Her best friend and Conduit, or the boy she loved. Schuyler knew one day it would come to this. That she would have to lose one to have the other. That this game would have consequences. That she could not carry on just as she’d had—with a vampire lover and a human familiar, with none the wiser. She had lied to Oliver, lied to Jack, lied to everyone, including herself. But her lies had finally caught up with her.
“You are selfish, Schuyler. You should never have made me your familiar,” Oliver said impassively. “But I let it happen because I cared about you. I was worried at what would happen to you if I didn’t. But you—if you ever cared about me at all, if you were thinking about me at all, you should have had the decency to restrain yourself. You knew exactly how I felt about you, and you used me anyway.”
He was right. Schuyler nodded dumbly as the rain ran in rivers over her hair and her clothes, her garments becoming a soggy mess. Oliver had always been the more sensible of the two of them. He’d had a crush on his best friend, loved her since they’d first met, carried a torch for her for years, but if she hadn’t brought the Caerimonia into it, hadn’t drunk his blood, hadn’t imprinted herself on his soul, maybe someday he would have stopped feeling that way about her.
If she had found another familiar, if she had chosen another human boy, Oliver’s crush might have faded into a soft, nonbinding affection. Oliver would be able to grow up, love a Red Blood girl, have his own family one day. But she had made him her own. She had sealed his affection with that first tantalizing bite. The Sacred Kiss had marked him as hers.
She had acted selfishly, needlessly, recklessly.
He had no choice but to love her. Even if he left her now, he would never love another; he would always be alone.
He was damned, and she had cursed both of them with her weakness.
“I am sorry.” Schuyler’s eyes filled with tears. There would be no way to make this right.
“If you are sorry, you will leave him. Jack will never be yours, Schuyler. Not like I am yours.”
She nodded, crying bitterly, wiping her tears and runny nose with a wet sleeve. She knew she looked as wretched as she felt.
Oliver softened. “Come on, let’s get out of the rain. We’re both going to catch a cold.” He led Schuyler gently into the shelter of a store awning.
“You’re too kind to me,” Schuyler whispered.
Oliver nodded. He knew what it was like to love one who did not—or could not—love you back. But he’d had no choice. None of them did.
AUDIO RECORDINGS ARCHIVE:
Repository of History
CLASSIFIED DOCUMENT:
Altithronus Clearance Only
Transcript of Venator report filed 3/3
Venator Martin: They have called for the blood trial. All will be known. I will be discovered.
Charles Force: Yes, I heard. You must be quick. You must disappear. I will help you.
VM: But I want to know why. Why did you have me call the Silver Blood? Why?
CF: Because I had to know.
VM: Had to know what?
CF: If it was possible.
VM: What do you mean?
CF: It should not have worked. (agitated) It should never have happened—it was just a test. To see . . .
VM: What?
CF: No time. (whispers) I know what I must do now.
VM: But the Regis. He will want an explanation for my actions.
CF: Yes. I will take care of Lawrence. Do not worry. He, of all people, will understand why I did what I had to do. Now, listen to me. I am sending you to Corcovado. . . .
THIRTY-ONE
“Sky, you look awful. What happened?” Bliss asked, finding Schuyler standing morosely at her doorway. Schuyler’s eyes were red from crying, and she was blowing her nose with a tissue. “Your maid let me in. I hope that’s okay. Are your parents around?” Schuyler asked, still sniffing. “No. They’re at some campaign fund-raiser. What else is new. Come on in. Not that they’d care anyway. You know they like you,” Bliss said. As soon as she said it, Bliss realized she wasn’t sure if it was true. Her parents had never shown any interest in her friends. They still assumed she hung out with Mimi Force. That’s how clueless they were. They’d never even met Schuyler or Oliver. “Are you all right?” Bliss asked. Schuyler shook her head. She followed Bliss into her bedroom and climbed onto her bed, leaning back on the pillows and closing her eyes. “Oliver hates me,” she said with a strangled cry as she rubbed her eyes. “He saw . . . the . . . two of us . . . Jack and . . .”
“He knows.” Bliss nodded. So that’s what Mimi was telling Oliver that afternoon.
In answer, Schuyler grabbed a fluffy pillow from among the huge goose-down heap and put it behind her neck. “Yeah.”
Bliss sighed. She picked up the television remote and started flipping through recorded programs. “Did you see the latest episode of The Beach?”
“No, put it on,” Schuyler urged. The fabricated “reality show” about the lives of three vacuous and yet strangely fascinating blond girls from Los Angeles was their favorite.
“So how’d he find out?” Bliss asked, keeping her eyes on the screen. Then she paused the action and turned to Schuyler. “Although, I guess it doesn’t matter. You know he would eventually.”
“I know,” Schuyler said. “I wish you wouldn’t look at me that way. I know what you’re thinking.”
“I didn’t say anything.”