“I hope they don’t think Dylan’s behind it. He can’t be,” Bliss said nervously.
“What are you talking about?” Mimi asked. “Dylan? Why would he be involved? Didn’t he disappear on you a few months ago? He’s like, history.” Mimi dimly remembered the story of how Dylan had broken into Bliss’s window before being taken by a Silver Blood. Bliss had been inconsolable for days, and Mimi had tried to comfort Bliss by reminding her that the monster could have taken her too. She was lucky to be alive. The Conclave had sent a team to investigate and track down Dylan’s whereabouts, but the Venators had found nothing.
“Don’t you know?” Bliss asked.
“Know what?”
“Dylan’s back and he’s in rehab.”
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same guy. Dylan— your deadbeat ex and the guy who killed Aggie? Who got turned into a Silver Blood?” Mimi demanded. Bliss wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. A girl who was still wearing last season’s sack dresses in May was totally clueless, as far as Mimi was concerned.
“Yeah.”
“Why would I know about it?” Mimi asked.
“You’re on the Conclave. I turned him in to Forsyth. He said he would let the Conclave know, so that everyone could make a decision. He said the Elders decided to send him to Transitions.”
Mimi shook her head, looking mystified. “No. Your dad never mentioned it in a meeting. We did no such thing.” She looked at Bliss like she was out of her mind. How strange that Forsyth would keep something like that a secret from the Conclave.
“That’s odd, why would he lie to me?”
“Who knows?” Mimi studied Bliss. “Dylan’s really back? You’re sure?”
Bliss nodded. “We visited him the other week.”
“Take me to him. I’ll let Forsyth know I need to make a report on Dylan for the Conclave.”
Cordelia Van Alen Files
Repository of History
CLASSIFIED DOCUMENT:
Altithronus Clearance Only
TWENTY-SEVEN
Because Mimi wanted to see Dylan right away, they decided to visit him the next day, which would mean cutting classes again. Not that Bliss minded all too much. Her grades were the furthest thing on her mind at that point. That evening, Bliss did not ask her father why he hadn’t told the Conclave about Dylan. She was wary about letting him know she knew he was keeping secrets from her. Forsyth must have had his reasons, but somehow Bliss had a feeling he wouldn’t share them. The next afternoon Bliss packed Dylan a care package. She knew he was receiving the best care money could buy, but Transitions wouldn’t have the newest indie-rock CD or a copy of Absolute Sandman. She thought maybe if he had a couple of his favorite things, it would remind him who he was, and in tandem, what Bliss had meant to him. She just didn’t want to give up on him. She’d even decided to stop feeling rejected about what had happened when they’d made out that fateful night. Maybe Dylan freaking out on her was just part of his sickness.
Jordan walked by the doorway and peeked inside Bliss’s room. “Are you going up to Saratoga again?” she asked.
“Yeah. Mimi wants to go see Dylan for the Conclave. And his doctor’s there today. I can finally ask what’s going on with him,” Bliss explained, folding a new leather motorcycle jacket she’d had her stylist track down at Barneys and stuffing it into the shopping bag.
Her sister walked in and sat on the bed, watching Bliss pack. “Hey . . . I wanted to ask you . . . you know how you used to have your blackouts?”
“Uh-huh.” Bliss nodded, deciding against bringing the teddy bear in a “Get Well” T-shirt she’d bought on impulse at a card shop. Dylan would definitely think it was corny. He’d always made fun of her for having so many stuffed animals on her bed.
“Do you still get them?”
Bliss paused and thought about it. The blackouts used to come with unnerving regularity. She would pass out and wake up somewhere completely different from where she’d begun, with no knowledge of how she’d gotten there. “No. And I haven’t had a nightmare in months either.”
“That’s good,” Jordan said, looking relieved.
But Bliss wasn’t finished talking. “It’s like, I get them during the day now. Like the other day—I saw this weird thing. I was holding my hairbrush and it turned into this, like, gold snake. Scared the crap out of me.”
Jordan paled. “Gold snake?”
“Yeah.”
“And the other day I looked up at the sky, and I saw this seven-headed dragon. Freaked me out.”
“This happens a lot?” Jordan asked.
Bliss shrugged. “Kind of. I asked Dad about it. He said it was all . . .”
“Part of the transformation,” Jordan chimed in.
“Yeah.” Bliss finished packing. Her cell phone buzzed. Mimi was downstairs with the car, waiting. Jordan was still standing there, an odd expression on her face. She looked as if she were wrestling with a decision. “What’s up?” Bliss asked.