On the screen, Victoria Taylor was burning to death. Melting into the black flames. Her vampire skin was scorched and peeling, the blood turning obsidian as it was destroyed forever.
Victoria was in the Newport house. The Lennox brothers popped out of the glom, and they tried valiantly to fight the flames, but it was too late. Nothing could stop hellfire from burning once it began to consume the immortal spirit it was set to destroy.
“Goddamnit!” Sam Lennox cried, kicking at the burning chair, while his brother wept beside him.
Mimi fell to the floor, her knees buckling beneath her. She remembered: the glom, Victoria, the Venators. They had been so close. The Venators could have saved Victoria, but at the final second, the Lennoxes had turned away to try to save Mimi instead. They had seen the blood spell headed in her direction. Now they were too late. They were all too late. She had put the entire Coven in danger, she had almost been killed—and for what? She had been unable to save Victoria, just as she had been unable to save Kingsley. “Oh God.”
In the end, there was nothing left of Victoria but a pile of ashes.
Mimi buried her face in her hands and sobbed. She had failed so wretchedly. She was useless. As good as a Silver Blood. Worse.
Oliver quietly shut down the computer.
Outside, the crescent moon was high in the sky, shining in its silver glory.
The Cardinal
Florence, 1452
If the Changeling was to be believed, Andreas had allowed a Silver Blood to take control of the human church. Surely Andreas could not have known. He would never allow such blasphemy. Unless . . . unless Andreas was not who Tomi thought he was. Unless he was not Michael. Unless he was not her beloved. Tomi did not know what or who to believe anymore. This had never happened before. She could always recognize her twin in every incarnation, and every fiber of her being told her Michael was Andreas. How could she be so wrong? She could not understand it. There had to be another explanation. She could not accept it. And yet . . .
“Andreas is a traitor. I felt it, but I did not want to speak until I was sure,” Gio said, articulating every doubt Tomi held in her mind.
It was midday, and the newly inducted Cardinal was receiving a line of visitors wishing to kiss his ring and congratulate him on his newly elevated position. As Venators, they skipped the line and were quickly escorted inside his private office by his secretary.
“My friends!” Savonarola greeted Gio and Tomi with open arms.
Gio wasted no time. As soon as they entered, he reached and grabbed the priest by the neck. He squeezed the Cardinal’s throat until the man could not breathe. Savonarola’s eyes turned silver with crimson pupils.
“Abomination!” Gio spat. “You were an angel once,” he said, motioning to the view and the world that the Blue Bloods had built—a glorious city of beauty, peace, love, and light. “We will not allow you to destroy what we have made.”
“Where is your master? Where is he hiding?” Tomi demanded.
The Cardinal only cackled, but his secretary—a human Conduit hovering by the door—provided the answer. Trembling with fear, he told them, “He is in the highest tower, in the home of the Mistress—” But before he was able to finish his sentence, Savonarola burst away from the Venator’s hold, grabbed a jeweled dagger from his desk, and stabbed the human to death.
“I was promised no harm would come to me!” the Cardinal cried, as Gio’s sword slashed his neck, beheading the Silver Blood priest.
PART THE THIRD
DEMING CHEN, MERCY-KILLER
New York
The Present
TWENTYSIX
An Angel Descends
As many of you know, two weeks ago, in an attempt to save Victoria Taylor, I chose to remove the wards that guard our Coven for a very brief period. However, we were unable to retrieve her in time, as I myself was attacked by a blood spell in the glom.” The young Regent looked over the assembled Venators and Conclave members with sad eyes. Her voice was grave. “I survived the more insidious effects of the spell, but Victoria was not so lucky. She was murdered.”
The room remained silent for a long time. No one spoke or made any kind of noise: no nervous coughing, no impatient scraping of a chair. From her seat in the back, Deming Chen watched the Blue Bloods carefully. She was impressed by their ability to hold their emotions in check, but she sensed fear and anger from the assembled group.