“We were learning about it in the Committee meetings is all, Grandfather.”
So that was why Jack never wanted to talk about it. Because there was no way to escape the bond. He had lied to her. A lie born of love. There was no hope for the two of them. He was putting himself at risk by resisting it.
Mimi was right. Mimi was telling the truth.
Without the bond Jack would never be the vampire he was meant to be. He would be half of himself, weakened and destroyed. It would happen slowly over the centuries, but it would happen. His spirit would die. And if that did not get him, the laws would. Mimi would hunt him down. The Conclave would condemn him to the Burning. By loving Schuyler he was risking his very soul. The longer they continued to meet, the more danger he was putting himself in.
It had to end.
She thought wistfully of their last meeting. That heavenly evening full of art and poetry, how handsome and brave he’d looked when he spoke about breaking the bond. What he would risk to be with her. Schiele’s painting came to mind again. There was a reason why she loved it so much. Two lovers, embracing, as if it were their last. Just as in Anne Sexton’s “The Break,” Schuyler’s story was one of a shattered heart.
There would be no more nights by the fire. No more books slipped under her door. No more secrets.
Good-bye, Jack.
As hard as it would be, as much as it would destroy her very will to even live, Schuyler knew what she had to do.
She had to tell another lie.
A lie that would release him.
AUDIO RECORDINGS ARCHIVE:
Repository of History
CLASSIFIED DOCUMENT:
Altithronus Clearance Only
Cordelia Van Alen Personal File
Transcript of conversation dated 12/25/98.
Cordelia Van Alen: Come here, child. Do you know me?
Jordan Llewellyn: Seraphiel.
CVA: Good.
CVA: Do you know why I have brought you?
JL: (child’s voice changes) I am Pistis Sophia. The Watcher. A spirit born with its eyes wide open, born into full consciousness. Why have you woken me?
CVA: Because I am afraid.
JL: What are you afraid of?
CVA: I am afraid that we have failed. That the battle in Rome was a farce. That our greatest enemy still walks this earth, but I do not know how. You are Jordan Llewellyn. For this cycle you are the daughter of Forsyth Llewellyn. If my suspicions are correct, then you will be our first line of defense.
JL: What must I do?
CVA: You shall watch and listen and observe.
JL: And then?
CVA: If what I fear is true, you must complete what we failed to do in Rome. But I cannot help you. I am bound by the Code. This is the last time we shall speak.
JL: I understand, Godmother.
CVA: Be well, child. Take my blessing on your journey. May it keep you safe. Facio Valiturus Fortis. Be strong and brave. Till we meet again.
JL: See you in the next life.
THIRTY-SIX
Pain. Searing pain. As if someone were holding a hot poker to her heart. It was scalding, burning. She could feel her skin turn red, then black, could smell the smoke rising from her frying flesh. This was nothing like the attack at the Repository. She would not survive this. Bliss tore through the miasma of sleep, forced herself to wake up. Wake up! Wake up! It was like being suffocated and torn apart at the same time. But she salvaged what power she had, and gathered all of her effort, all of her strength, and successfully pushed the pain away. There was a crash and a scream. She blinked awake and sat up on the couch. She had taken a nap in their suite after coming back from the beach. She was still trying to make sense of what had happened when the door flew open and her parents appeared in the doorway.
In the dark she saw Jordan lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, holding something bright and glittering in her hand.
Her parents assessed the situation quickly, almost professionally, as if they had been expecting something like this to happen.
“Quick, BobiAnne, she’s still stunned. Set the spell,” Forsyth said as he began to bundle up his younger daughter with the hotel’s comforter and blankets.
“What’s going on? What are you guys doing?” Bliss asked groggily. Things were happening much too fast for her understanding.
“Look,” Forsyth said, removing a small blade from Jordan’s hand and tossing it to his wife. “She picked the vault.”
Bliss tried to make sense of everything, but logical thinking eluded her in her dizzy and disoriented state. Was she going insane, or did Jordan just try to kill her?
She flinched as her stepmother put a hand on her brow. “She’s warm,” she told her husband. Then she lifted Bliss’s shirt and examined her chest. “But I think she’s okay.”