Three of diamonds.
And so it went. The gray fog did not lift. Schuyler felt depressed. After her success on the Velox and the aminadverto, she was certain mastering the glom would be just as straightforward.
Anderson was excused, and Schuyler was left alone with her grandfather.
“It is a hard one.” Lawrence consoled, shuffling the cards and stacking them back in their case.
Schuyler nodded. “But it seems so easy,” she said, mentioning how she could read Oliver’s thoughts with no trouble.
“He is unprotected. Remind me, we will have to train him as well if he is going to be an effective Conduit.”
Schuyler nodded. The effort to master the glom had taken a lot of her energy, and she felt dizzy and tired all of a sudden.
“Are you all right?” Lawrence asked, concerned.
She waved her hand away. Schuyler never admitted it to her grandfather, but sometimes after completing the tests, she was so weak she could barely stand.
TWENTYSIX
Their meeting in the Repository had been purely accidental. Schuyler was there to read as many books as possible on Lawrence’s instructions and had been pleasantly surprised to find Jack studying at one of the desks. “Oh, hey.” He grinned, raking a hand through his hair and motioning for her to take the seat across from him. “What are you reading? The Trial?” he asked, showing her his copy. She nodded. They had been assigned the Kafka tome in their AP English class. It was one of the several books she had in her stack. “Silly love story, don’t you think?” he asked, paging through the yellowed leaves in his book, which Schuyler noticed was well worn and dog-eared. “Love story?” She made a face. “Isn’t the book about the tyranny of justice? The absurd nature of bureaucracy? We never know what he’s on trial for, after all.”
“I disagree. And since Kafka never wanted the book to be published, who’s to say what it’s really about?” Jack asked in a slightly teasing tone. “I read that it’s about his failed courtship and engagement to Felice Bauer. Which means it’s not about the law at all, but about a man who’s frustrated in love. . . .”
“Oh, Jack . . .” Schuyler sighed. She wasn’t sure if he was pulling her leg or not, but she was enjoying their banter. It hadn’t been clear until then whether they would ever be able to mend the budding friendship, or whatever it was that had started between them and then ended so abruptly last semester. But it looked as if Jack might not be too put off from trying again. Not that it meant anything. He was still Mimi Force’s brother.
“Maybe my book has something yours doesn’t,” Jack said, pushing his copy over. “Here, let me take yours.” He said. “Yours has a better cover anyway.”
Schuyler picked up his book, inhaling its mildewy scent. She found the page where she had left off and began to read.
Boring old place, Mimi thought, as she followed Kingsley down the stairs into the Repository of History, The Committee’s headquarters and the coven’s main library located underneath Block 122, the superexclusive nightclub open to Blue Bloods and their guests only.
Kingsley had become a friend, someone who shared Mimi’s sense of wickedness. The incident with the boy on the balcony had been the start of their alliance. Kingsley represented everything Mimi admired in a vampire—the desire to use power. Privately, she agreed with Kingsley: The Committee was much too cautious, and she chafed against its stringent rules. Why not use their strength to dominate humans? What good was reading someone’s mind if you couldn’t use it for material or emotional gain? Why not feed on more than one familiar at a time? Why not flaunt their superior status instead of trying to blend in with the mortal world?
He had asked her to come with him to the Repository so he could show her something cool, and he had disappeared into the stacks to find it.
She looked around the cavernous old room. Several pathetic humans, former Conduits no longer attached to vampire families, were working diligently in their carrels.
Mimi took a seat at one of the large reading tables in the middle of the room, drumming her fingers impatiently.
The soft sound of conversation drifted to her ears from behind a row of books.
“There’s nothing about love in here, Jack,” a girl was saying. “Maybe you’re the one being absurd.”
“Are you sure? You should look harder, maybe you’re not reading it closely enough,” he countered.
Mimi gritted her teeth. That was the Van Alen mouse again, talking to her brother. She stood up and cleared her throat, peering over the low shelves at the two of them.
Jack and Schuyler immediately moved away from each other.
“I’ll, uh, see you later,” Schuyler said, taking her books and walking over to a different desk, not realizing she still had his copy.