“Wanna take a walk?” he suggested.
Bliss nodded. A “walk on the beach” sounded pretty suspicious. Wasn’t that just a nice way to say “Wanna hook up?”
They walked hand in hand on the beach, Bliss dipping her feet into the rolling waves and feeling the cold water over her skin.
The lights of the hotel grew fainter and fainter.
“Morgan’s a girl’s name,” she teased.
“Oh yeah?” he asked, hugging her and pulling her to the ground.
Bliss pretended to struggle as he pinned her arms down.
“You’re not getting away from me,” he said.
“No?”
The boy began to kiss her, and Bliss kissed him back. This was different from kissing Dylan, or from kissing Kingsley, she thought. This was a human. A Red Blood. She could feel his heart thumping in his chest, smell his ripe human scent. And suddenly, she knew what she was about to do.
He lifted up his shirt and tossed it to the side. Bliss helped him unbutton her blouse. Her whole body tingled as he slipped a hand underneath her bikini top and untied the strings. He was moving so fast . . . but then, so was she.
She rolled him over so that she was straddling him, her knees pressed on the sand on either side of his hips.
“Nice,” he said, ever the frat boy, admiring Bliss sitting astride, topless in the moonlight.
“You think?” she asked coyly. Then she bent her head down, kissing upward from the dark line of his torso, up to his chest, then to his neck, to the warm spot underneath his chin. She kissed him slowly with her tongue.
He sighed and held her head with his hands, pressing her closer to him.
And that’s when she bit him with her fangs and began to feed. . . .
TWENTYNINE
The Committee maintained that all one needed to learn about one’s past lives was to sit in a chair, close your eyes, and meditate, letting the mind wander down the endless hallways of memory, perusing a catalog of a thousand lifetimes. In the dark privacy of her bedroom, Mimi snuggled on her princess divan, put a fur mask over her eyes, and began to concentrate. The visions couldn’t be clearer. Every iteration of her past showed her the same story: she and Jack together, happy, bonded, in love. She analyzed the history of their recent past: Plymouth, Newport, but neither time nor place offered a hint of a clue. Try as she might, she couldn’t find a reason for his withdrawal, for his doubt, for his hesitation. Or could she? With a shock she remembered the look on his face at the Four Hundred Ball. That look of total and complete adoration. At the time she had tried to dismiss it as mere infatuation. Nothing more than mere curiosity, even. That was stupid of her. She had allowed herself to be blinded by her pride. She had been too long in denial.
The answer had been in front of her all along.
Schuyler Van Alen.
The little half-blood. Or more correctly, a Blue Blood without a past. A new spirit. This was the anomaly in their universe. This was the unknown factor that was keeping Jack off balance.
How could she have not seen it before?
Schuyler had never existed in their world until now. Only now . . . in this cycle. And only now, in this cycle, was Jack and Mimi’s bond under question.
He was drawn to Schuyler—as he had once been drawn to Gabrielle. Mimi tore off her eye mask in a snit and threw it across the room, almost hitting her chow, Pookie, who whimpered in annoyance.
Gabrielle. It was always Gabrielle. Even before the Fall, it had been so. Gabrielle, the Virtuous, the Messenger, an archangel of the White, the one who would brings news of salvation. Mimi and Jack were Angels of the Underworld, their destiny one of darkness and justice, to remind man of their mortality. And yet Jack, Abbadon, had always been drawn to the Light. Had always been drawn to the power of the White.
And everybody said she was the social climber? Mimi thought.
Through the centuries, Mimi knew Jack had been unsatisfied with his lot, had been uncomfortable with his title and position—the Angel of Destruction. Jack would never shy from his responsibilities, Mimi understood her twin too well. She just wished he would accept the world as it was made instead of aspiring for something greater. That was what got them into trouble in the first place. They had followed Lucifer upward during his ascent, Jack thinking that if he could shine like the sun Gabrielle loved so well, he would win her hand. But Gabrielle had spurned him then, and even when she had abandoned Michael on Earth she had turned to a human rather than to Abbadon of the Dark.
There were no secrets between the Force twins. Mimi had learned to live with the fact that Gabrielle’s face had haunted Jack’s dreams for over a millennia. But now the power of attraction had transferred from mother to daughter, and that she could not accept.
Mimi knew now what she had to do. To save their bond, to save themselves.
She had to destroy Schuyler Van Alen.
THIRTY