“Yes, yes. I know who you are. Just put her down on the couch, there’s a good lad,” Lawrence instructed, leading Jack into the living room. Jack placed Schuyler gently on a velvet-upholstered divan, and Lawrence covered her with an afghan blanket.
Schuyler’s skin was so pale it was transparent, and her dark lashes were wet against her cheek. She was breathing in irregular, tortured gasps. Lawrence put a cool hand on her hot forehead and asked Hattie to bring a thermometer. “She’s burning up,” he said in a tense voice.
“She fainted at school,” Jack explained. “She seemed all right in the cab, and then she said she felt sleepy, and . . . well . . . you can see.”
Lawrence’s frown deepened.
“She’s been working on the glom, she said.” Jack looked sharply at Lawrence out of the corner of his eye.
“Yes, we were practicing.” Lawrence nodded. He sat next to his granddaughter and gently inserted a thermometer between her parched lips.
“That’s against Committee rules,” Jack noted.
“I don’t recall you ever caring very much for rules, Abbadon,” Lawrence said. Neither of them had acknowledged their former friendship until then. “You, who stood with us at Plymouth at great cost to your own reputation.”
“Times change,” Jack muttered. “If what you say is true, then she has been weakened by your own hand.”
Lawrence pulled the thermometer out of Schuyler’s mouth. “One hundred and twelve,” he said matter-of-factly. A temperature that would certainly spell imminent death or permanent damage to a mortal. But Schuyler was a vampire, and it was still within an acceptable range for her kind. “A tad high, perhaps,” Lawrence pronounced. “But nothing a good rest won’t cure.”
A few minutes later, Schuyler woke up to find Jack and her grandfather looking at her keenly. She shivered underneath the wool blanket and pulled it around her shoulders tightly.
“My dear, has this happened before?”
“Sometimes,” Schuyler acknowledged softly.
“After lessons?”
Schuyler nodded. She hadn’t admitted it, because she wanted the lessons to continue.
“I should have seen this. The first time this happened— when you went into hibernation—that was several days after you chased me in Venice, was it not?”
Schuyler nodded. She remembered what Dr. Pat had said: Sometimes it’s a delayed reaction.
“I have figured out why you are so weak,” Lawrence said. “I chastise myself for not realizing the problem earlier. It’s simple. By exercising your vampire powers, your blue-blood cells are working overtime, and since your red-blood cells aren’t high to begin with—because of the mixed nature of your blood composition—your energy flags. There is only one solution to keep your blood counts in the normal range. You must take a human familiar.”
“But I’m not even eighteen,” Schuyler protested, citing the age of consent for the Sacred Kiss. “I was kind of planning on waiting.”
“This is serious, Schuyler. I’ve already lost your mother to a coma, I don’t want to lose you as well. While you possess certain special powers that vampires your age wouldn’t even dream of having, in many ways, you are also much weaker than the average Blue Blood. You cannot escape from the progress of the transformation, but you can control some of its more adverse effects. You must take a familiar sooner than eighteen. A human boy. For your own sake.”
Jack cleared his throat, and Schuyler was surprised to see him there. He had been so quiet during her grandfather’s lecture. “I think I’ll take your leave, Lawrence. Schuyler.”
The door to the room opened just as Jack was about to exit.
Oliver Hazard-Perry stood in the doorway, looking flustered at seeing Jack. “I heard Schuyler had to go home from school. I was worried, I came as soon as I could.”
The three vampires looked at him, all with the same thought on their minds.
Oliver was a human boy. A Red Blood. And Schuyler needed a familiar. . . .
“What?” Oliver asked, when no one replied. “Do I smell or something?”
THIRTYTHREE
It was time to try her plan. The roses had been the last straw. It was not only that—her brother was becoming bolder and bolder in his pursuit of the half-blood. He hardly ever tried to disguise the fact that he lingered in hallways outside Schuyler’s classroom, or had taken to hanging out in the library at school or the Repository to catch a glimpse of her. Mimi had even caught the two of them shamelessly flirting in public! The other day a friend told her she had seen Jack actually walk out of the school with Schuyler in his arms! Not that Mimi even believed that one. Mimi drew the pentagram as the book had instructed, with a small white chalk on the pale blond hardwood floor. Then she placed the necessary ingredients together in a small steel bowl on her dressing-room table: verbena leaves, bay leaves, a cluster of tiger lilies, marjoram, a toad heart, and a bat wing. The array looked out of place among the many crystal bottles of perfume and expensive French lotions.
She lit a candle and drew a flame from it with a stick of rosemary. She blew out the candle as directed and threw the burning herb into the bowl.