The Van Alen Legacy

Schuyler forgot what she had come to the library to find.

She blinked back tears and felt her throat constrict. Soon her whole body was shaking as badly as it ever had, but this was no transformation-related sickness. She was wrong. She was not strong. Her heart was breaking, she could feel it— nothing would ever be the same. Her eyes watered, and she knew if she did not stop herself, she would soon be sobbing on the staircase.

So this was how a love affair ends: with a random meeting on a public staircase. A few polite words and nothing real said, even though their world was ending. And so, with the most self-control she had ever managed, she dried her tears, picked up her books, and continued up the stairs.

She would just have to endure.





FORTY-SEVEN

Mimi


Coordinating a bonding was easier than Mimi expected. Especially since the whole package—St. John’s Cathedral, the Met reception, the Boys Choir of Harlem, the Peter Duchin Orchestra, and a dozen other details—had all been decided upon a year ago. It was simply a matter of securing a new date and rehiring vendors, most of whom were more than happy to take her security deposit once again. The bonding was set for mid-October, the earliest date that worked for everyone.

But Mimi wasn’t thinking of her upcoming bonding as she sat in the lobby of the Mandarin Oriental hotel, waiting for Kingsley Martin to arrive that evening. It was the farthest thing from her mind, almost as if the whole bonding scenario were simply a role she would step into at the right moment, like a glass slipper that had to fit. But until then, she could do as she pleased.

The Repository aide who had unearthed the tape recorder that was able to play the tapes from Charles’s study had advised her to go easy on it; it was the only one they had left. He couldn’t even let her take it out of the building.

“Venators don’t like to upgrade,” he’d grumbled, handing her the bulky black object. “We’ve given them the attachments for their phones, but they still use their old junk to turn stuff in. Someone gave us a report on parchment the other day. In longhand. You know how hard that is to read? Let alone retype?”

Mimi had murmured sympathies, and then found an empty cubicle and some headphones. She started to listen.

She had spent almost the entire night at the Repository, leaving only so she wouldn’t miss her first class.

When Kingsley finally walked in, she wondered why it was that almost every time she was with him, she had been awake for more than twenty-four hours.

As he sauntered over, Mimi noticed how everyone at the bar turned to gape at him. Talk about using the glamour.

“You’re late,” she said, tapping at her watch.

“No, you’re just early.” Kingsley smiled and slid in next to her on the banquette.

She inched away from him. “Aren’t you staying at this hotel? You don’t even have an excuse. I’ve been waiting for over an hour for you.” And Mimi Force did not wait for anyone. It was a new and frustrating experience. She’d read the looks of pity from the cocktail waitress.

Kingsley yawned. “I know you’re not here to talk about my inability to master time management. So what’s up?”

“Order first,” Mimi snarled, as the waitress glided up to their table. Mimi noticed the girl was already making eyes at Kingsley.

“Macallan. Straight. And whatever the lady desires,” Kingsley said, winking at Mimi.

“I’ll have a dirty martini,” Mimi said.

“And I’ll have to see your ID,” the waitress said with a fake smile.

I have never been carded in my life! Mimi wanted to scream. This is New York City! Do you even have any idea how old I am? But before Mimi could say anything, or use the glom to her advantage, Kingsley reached over and snagged her purse and plucked out Mimi’s driver’s license to hand to the waitress. The girl didn’t even bother to look at it. “Whiskey and a martini coming right up.”

“Smooth. What did you do? Change the date?” Mimi asked. Some vampires had the ability to transform inanimate objects. Mimi would have loved that talent. Imagine all the knockoffs she could turn into real Birkins! She’d make a fortune.

“Nah. No need. She just wanted to mess with you. It’s my attention she was after.”

“You’re really something else, aren’t you?”

Kingsley grinned. “I’ve missed you, Force. You still mad at me from last time? I hope not. No hard feelings, yeah?”

She snorted, but it was hard to stay mad at him when he was smiling at her like that.

Their drinks came with no further flirtation from the waitress. Mimi took a sip of hers. Meanwhile, Kingsley had somehow managed it so that she was practically sitting on his lap at their cozy table.

“Stop it,” she said, pushing off. “I want to talk to you about something serious.”

“That sounds boring,” he sighed. “I was hoping you wanted to talk about something else.”