The Van Alen Legacy

Kingsley raised his cup to hers. “Back to school, I take it? Senior year?” He teased. “You know, it’s a funny thing . . . I never did go to high school. I mean, not in any real sense. The first time I went was when I got assigned to the Duchesne case.”


“Don’t tell me you miss it,” she joked. She wondered how old Kingsley was. Silver Bloods were like Enmortals, they were free of the cycles. They didn’t age, almost as if they were frozen in time. She knew a little about Kingsley’s history: he had been corrupted by a Silver Blood in Rome, but had been forgiven by Michael himself and welcomed back into the Blue Blood community.

“Maybe a little. The little announcements at the start of the day. All that peer counseling. Very self-actualizing.” He grinned to let her know he was making fun, but not making fun of her.

The barista yelled from the counter. “Two clovers!”

“That’s mine!” Mimi said, collecting her order. Some things didn’t change: even if this was no Starbucks, the coffee still came in a cup the size of a pitcher. “I should go or I’ll be late,” she told Kingsley. She picked up her satchel and swung it over her shoulder, holding the two drinks in a cardboard carrier.

“I heard about the bonding,” Kingsley said quietly. He put down his coffee cup and signaled to the waitress for another.

“Forsyth told you.”

“Indeed. He explained that since Charles is still MIA, he’s giving you away.”

“So? What of it?” she challenged.

Kingsley smiled sweetly. “Nothing. I just wanted to congratulate you. You’ll make a beautiful bride.”

Now it was Mimi’s turn to blush uncharacteristically. She didn’t know what she had expected. Him to plead with her? To ask her not to bond with Jack? Ridiculous. Impossible. Kingsley was exactly like her: selfish, dangerous, unable to follow rules. Had she wanted him to feel something for her when she felt nothing for him?

She stared at him, her cheeks slowly burning. He returned her gaze steadily.

“Dude, I don’t know why I even bother,” Mimi said, and she left, storming out of the café.

A year ago, when Mimi had returned from Rio to New York, there had been no time to even think about the bonding. Everything had been canceled immediately. It wasn’t the right time, and after what had happened, she and Jack were too shell-shocked to think of it. Deposits were lost, her gown taken to storage. A week later she had confronted him about his little affair with the half-blood, and they had reconciled. In any case, Schuyler had ceased to be a problem: the little wench had left New York and Jack. She was following in the footsteps of her mother, headed to some sad tragic end, Mimi hoped.

But instead of Schuyler’s absence leading to a deeper relationship, the two of them being alone together at last had caused an estrangement between them. But this time it was Mimi who had withdrawn. She didn’t want to be second choice. She didn’t want Jack to be with her only because he couldn’t be with the person he truly loved.

Jack in her arms was nothing but a Phyrric victory. Mimi wanted him to love her and to mean it. But every day, it appeared he was doing the same thing he always did: paying lip service to their bond, placating her fears with lies, while his eyes betrayed the deeper truth: that his heart still belonged to another.

And so she had escaped. She had joined up with the Venators. She had left him. See how well he would do without her. She wanted him to miss her. She wanted him to miss her so desperately he would understand exactly how much she meant to him. She thought that if she left, he would realize the error of his ways, and discover the deep bond between them. She might as well have stayed home.

Nothing had changed. Jack had gone his way and she had gone hers. When she had told him about Forsyth’s request, he had accepted the new date of their bonding without comment. He would bond with her. But he would find no joy in the process: the groom as dead man walking. She was tired of it.

She found Jack standing at the corner, his messenger bag slung across his broad shoulders. He really needed a haircut, she thought.

“Here you go.” She handed her twin his coffee.

“Thanks.”

They walked to school, their steps easily matching the other’s. Even after a year away, they fell in line together. In a weird way, they would always be bonded even without the official ceremony.

“Here’s your croissant. Probably not as good compared to Paris, right?” Mimi asked.

Jack took a bite. “It’s okay.” He shrugged. When she’d mentioned Paris, his lips twitched, like they did whenever he was upset.

But for the first time in a very long time, Mimi couldn’t care less about what was bothering him.





FORTY-FIVE

Bliss


Where r u? miss u. am back & want 2 c u. why Bliss read her text. Her thumb hovered over the reply button, but in the end she put her phone away. No. She wasn’t safe to be around. She didn’t want any more of her friends to suffer because of her.

“Sorry,” she said, when she noticed Miss Murray looking in her direction.