FORTY
Schuyler was brushing her teeth when her cell phone rang. She rinsed, gargled, and spit, quickly wiped her face, and ran to pick it up. It was early in the morning, and she was getting ready for school. “Yeah?” “Is that any way to answer the phone?” “Oh, Bliss. Hey. Sorry. I thought it was Oliver. He always calls in the morning.” “Sorry to disappoint.” “No, not at all. How are you?” Schuyler asked. She had been meaning to visit Bliss in the clinic, but the past several days had been hectic, what with trying to keep up with a full class schedule, vampire lessons, and deal with the fact that her grandfather was getting ready for the battle royal of his life. The White Vote had been called, and the election was imminent.
“Better,” Bliss said. “You, uh, know what happened to me, right?”
“Yeah,” Schuyler said. “My grandfather said it was a Croatan, but that you were safe.”
Bliss told Schuyler about the test, opening her mind up to Nan Cutler, and how the marks on her neck disappeared.
“The same thing happened to me,” Schuyler said. “Remember? The night we modeled for that shoot?”
“Yeah.”
“I was attacked, but the marks disappeared. And I couldn’t remember anything.”
“She also wanted to see the back of my neck. Isn’t that odd?”
Schuyler nodded, even though Bliss wasn’t able to see her. “Actually, that’s another kind of test, my grandfather said. Nan came over here, too. To check me out.”
“Really? I’m not the only one?”
“No, of course not. Everyone there that night has to be tested.”
“Cool.”
“So, what’s up?”
“Listen, I found out something from my dad. You know how The Committee always said there was no such thing as the Silver Bloods?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, I guess they’re coming around.”
“Yeah, I heard that too,” Schuyler said. Lawrence had filled her in on the politics of the Conclave. Now that a full-grown vampire had been taken, the Conclave was up in arms and primed for revolt. The Silver Bloods were a grim reality they would have to face.
“Anyway, my dad said that it has to be one of us— someone high up, an old family,” Bliss said.
“That’s what Cordelia always said too.”
“You might think this is crazy,” Bliss said, “but I think I know who did it.”
“Who did what?”
“I mean, I think I know who’s harboring the Silver Blood, or Silver Bloods,” Bliss said. “I think Kingsley has something to do with it.”
Bliss told Schuyler her suspicions, and how they matched up with what her father had told her about corruption—his intense curiosity about the Dark Matter, the odd book she always saw Kingsley reading, the way he was so familiar with Silver Blood history and mythology.
Schuyler whistled. “I don’t know . . . it sounds suspicious . . . but don’t you think you’re jumping to conclusions?”
“Maybe, but I’m stuck in here for another week,” Bliss said. “Do you think you and Oliver could look into it?”
Later that week, Schuyler and Oliver dug up a few interesting facts about the new boy. The Repository had been restored to somewhat usable condition (the Velox factor came in handy). All the dust and plaster had been cleared, and nothing remained of the explosion except for a small, hairline crack in the middle of the marble floor. It was amazing what vampires could do when they set their minds to it.
Tracking Kingsley’s whereabouts was easy with Oliver’s network of connections in the private-school circuit, as well as some clever computer sleuthing.
Schuyler called Bliss at the clinic to let her know what they had found. “The Martins moved to New York the same night that you said Dylan was murdered,” she said. “And we found out Kingsley spent summer school at Hotchkiss, where that girl was killed, and he’d spent a week at Choate visiting a friend, where a sophomore had been found dead right before school started. He was here in New York the night of Aggie’s death at Block 122, and he was also at the party where Landon Schlessinger died.”
“I knew it!” Bliss said.
“There’s other stuff: Kingsley was the last person to visit Summer Amory. Oliver said the gossip was that he was dating her. So that places him at the scene of all the crimes. But I’m not sure, it could just be coincidence. Lots of other Blue Blood kids spent summer school at Hotchkiss, go to Choate, were at Block 122 that night, and knew Landon Schlessinger. And Summer Armory was dating a bunch of people. I’m sure if we wanted to, we could find several other people who fit the bill.”
“No, it has to be him. I know it is,” Bliss said emphatically.
“Are you going to tell your dad about this?”
“I’m not sure. He’s kind of an adviser to Kingsley’s family. I mean . . .”