Gates of Paradise (a Blue Bloods Novel)

Mimi started to stand up, but Kingsley blocked her. “No, you stay where you are for now. I want to have a conversation with you, and I don’t want you pulling out that little needle of a sword, like you did the last time we saw each other.”


Mimi held up her hands and sat back down. “You’re the one with guards at the door,” she said. “You’re in charge now.”

“I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about you,” Kingsley said. “A lot more than I wanted to, given how you’ve been behaving. But I really wanted to figure out what was going on. One minute you travel to Hell for me; the next you never want to see me again; then you throw a fight with me to get me to steal the grail. You let me win, I know. Don’t even try to tell me differently. I know you.”

Mimi started to interrupt, but Kingsley held up a finger. “I’m not done. I want some answers, and if at the end of this conversation you still want to do a little sparring, that can be arranged. But be warned, my darling, that if I’m not satisfied with what I hear from you, this will be the last fight we ever have. One way or another.”

“Fair enough,” she said. So this would end how it was supposed to.

“Here’s what I’m thinking: given your sudden shift in attentiveness toward me after we got out of Hell, I’m guessing that you were forced into making some sort of deal with Lucifer. I know you entered the underworld thinking you’d happily sacrifice Oliver for a chance to save me, but he turned out to be too good a friend. See, the thing I’ve known about you from the beginning is that no matter what you want people to think, you’re not a bad person. Even on your worst day,” he said gently. “Unless, of course, you’re missing something vital. Like your soul.”

She stared at him.

“I think you traded your soul for mine, and that’s how you freed me from Hell. You couldn’t sacrifice Oliver, so you sacrificed yourself. That’s why you were so cold, as if you didn’t care about me at all. Because you didn’t.”

Mimi shook her head. “What a lovely story you’ve told yourself. I’ll tell Lucifer you’re not just a weakling these days, you’re delusional as well.”

Kingsley sighed. “You can insult me all you want. I know it’s a charade. But what I can’t figure out is what happened after that. Because, as much as you’d like me to think that you’re working for the devil himself, I know you. I can look into your eyes and see that you’re there and that you still love me.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong,” Mimi spat. “I’m just a much better actress than you think I am.”

“You aren’t, though,” Kingsley said. “I know you think you are, but you’re not. And somehow I get the feeling that this whole thing you’ve orchestrated is simply a way to set us up for some sort of fight to the finish that I’d rather not engage in.”

“As if you have a choice.”

“Maybe I don’t,” he agreed. “But you had your chance to kill me back at Rosslyn Chapel, and you didn’t take it. Not only that, but you set up that meeting. I think you wanted me to take the chalice from you, to save you from having to bring Lucifer something he so desperately needed.”

So he’d understood everything, after all. She so desperately wished she could tell him that he was right, that she’d loved him all along. But the necklace she wore was burning, as if on fire.

“I knew that was you from the beginning. Of course I did. I know where Dehua is. I sent her and Sam to look after Schuyler. I wanted to have this conversation in private, but of course Deming is a bit impulsive, and now everyone knows. I had to let them take you.”

Mimi shrugged.

“Why are you here, Mimi? Does it mean what I hope it means? That you’ve returned to us—to me?”

“Never,” she said. “Why would I ever settle for you when Jack is waiting for me?” She wanted to make him angry, angry enough to fight. She could goad him into it, use that male vanity against him.

“Jack isn’t waiting for you, and we both know it,” Kingsley said. “So what’s your game? Why are you here?”

“I’m here for you.” She leaned back in the chair and thrust her leg forward, kicking Kingsley’s knee as hard as she could. He buckled, and she was able to get past him and unsheathe her sword. “A fight to the finish, isn’t that what you said?” She swung hard, with the goal of inflicting some sort of flesh wound, enough to get Kingsley riled up.

He was quick, though, and he darted out of the way before her sword could reach him. His weapon was in his hand before she saw him retrieve it, but she was quick too—she parried his thrust, and the metal swords made a clanging sound that echoed in the room.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he said as they sparred.

“This is the only way it can end,” she said. “And it needs to end. You should have killed me when you had the chance.”

“I could say the same for you,” he said.