The Van Alen Legacy

Nothing. And everything. A life of danger and adventure. A chance to be yourself. Leave him. Come with me.

He really had some nerve. She had already made her decision! She couldn’t leave her twin in the middle of the bonding—in front of the entire Coven! They would laugh about it for centuries, she knew. Who did he think she was? Was he smirking? He totally was. He knew he was making her squirm. Well, she would show him. She would throw this in his face—make him wish that . . . he had never . . .

What was she thinking? Kingsley was here. No matter what he said, his actions spoke louder than his glibness. He was supposed to be in Paris, but instead he was here, in the church, at the bonding, because maybe, just maybe, he felt something for her, something real and true and wonderful and something he could not deny, no matter how many jokes he made about it.

Maybe he was here because he loved her.

Let’s get this over with, Jack had sent. Jack would love her once they were bonded. But only as his duty. Only because the bond would force him.

Mimi held Kingsley’s gaze. I can’t . . .





SIXTY

Bliss


What was Mimi doing? Why had she stopped in the middle of the aisle? Who was she looking at? Kingsley Martin? Bliss hadn’t seen Kingsley since the trial. . . . How strange that he was here for the bonding. Wasn’t he a Venator of some sort?

Martin!

An image appeared. A thin boy, sickly and frail, following on the heels of his older, stronger, smarter cousin. A boy who admired and adored his childhood hero, his Gaius, his protector and his best friend.

Gemullus.

Bliss saw it: The lord Emperor Caligula taking the throne, his younger, frailer cousin by his side. Tiberius Gemellus. The true heir. But there was no envy in Gemellus’s heart. Only adoration. He loved him so. He would do anything his emperor commanded him to do. Even agree to the Corruption.

She saw them: Caligula taking the blood of Gemellus, and Gemellus transforming from a sickly boy to a strong one. Stronger than he had ever dreamed; faster, and more powerful, the entire being transformed. And then the despair . . . the agony of the soul unbound . . . the cries of the many in the undead blood, and then penance before Michael . . . and forgiveness . . . and a mission.

And suddenly everything fell into place. The Visitor’s voice spoke so fast, Bliss didn’t understand what he was saying.

Ofcourse.Gemellus.Ofcourse!Michaelwasacraftyone.Trustinhimtotrustatraitor.Wemuststrikenow.Now.Now.Now.

The unfinished church. In the sacred laws, a church must be completed to be fully consecrated. Of course. Where best to hide the gate than in a sacred spot that was not at all sacred? A church that even a Silver Blood could enter?

Without knowing what she was doing, Bliss cried in a voice darker than the deepest echelons of hell.

Croatan! To me! This is our destiny! The Gate of Time is here! Arise, dark demons of the deep! Arise and awake, your time has come!

And suddenly all was mist as the Silver Bloods entered the church—the only church they could enter in the known universe—and they surrounded Kingsley, enveloping him in the silver mist, thick and impenetrable. They blanketed the church in darkness, their laughter crazed and agonized.

“The girl! Don’t forget the girl!” rasped a voice.

Bliss looked. Schuyler was running down the length of the aisle, running to help Kingsley while the Coven stood in shock. It was as if Schuyler were moving in slow motion through a still crowd.

“No! Schuyler! Stay back!” Bliss yelled, running to save her friend from the demon’s reach.

But Leviathan got there first.





SIXTY-ONE

Schuyler


She was in the glom and she was falling, falling, falling. The demon held her in his grasp and he was taking her down to the deep. Down to the deepest dark center of the twilight world. When Schuyler could finally open her eyes, she saw that she was chained to some sort of gate, and there were two men standing on either side of it. On one side was a beautiful man in a white suit.

She recognized him immediately. Lucifer, the former Prince of Heaven, the Morningstar. She never thought a man could be so handsome; his beauty was so dazzling it was almost too painful to see. Like a knife that cut deep beneath the skin, his beauty exacted a price from the beholder. She understood the difference between him and the false image on Corcovado. The true Morningstar glowed with a pure inescapable light.