The Van Alen Legacy

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!” Bliss cried as she released her friend, the tears streaming down her face.

“Bliss—stop—what are you doing?” Schuyler screamed. “No!”

With a mighty thrust, Bliss plunged the archangel’s blade deep into her own heart, breaking the glass into a million pieces, and ending her life.





SIXTY-EIGHT

Mimi


The Coven was up in arms. Forsyth Llewellyn had disappeared. Kidnapped by the Croatan? Or was he Croatan himself ? Who knew who they could trust anymore? Mimi wondered why he had been so keen on their bonding. Had it truly been for the sake of the Coven, or was it something else? Had he known what was hidden under the church? Meanwhile, the Conclave was in shambles. This was the end of everything—Silver Bloods in the church! At a bonding! It was madness, inexcusable. There would have to be meetings to discuss what must be done. More and more meetings, and proper investigations, and no decisions made. They were frightened and leaderless. Mimi understood that the Coven needed her and Jack now more than ever. More even than yesterday.

The church had survived the attack intact, except for a fine black dust that covered every surface. As Mimi walked through its doors the next morning at dawn, she was glad, in a way, that she and Jack would be alone for the ceremony this time. Because their bonding was not just about the two of them, but the survival of their people. It was their duty.

She was wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans. There would be no society photographers this time, no honored guests. It would be just as it had been in the early days of Rome. There would be no witnesses to their bonding, but they needed none. All they needed was to say the words to each other.

This was their fate and this was their way.

She walked to the front of the altar and lit a candle. Jack wouldn’t be long. They had shared a cab to the church, but he had asked her to wait for him inside while he took a call.

But as the minutes ticked by and Jack did not walk through the church door, Mimi understood. He would never walk through the door. He had lied to her yet again, because he was not worthy of her. He would never be worthy.

Not like . . . but she could not say his name aloud. Kingsley. All that could have been flashed in Mimi’s mind: the two of them hunting Silver Bloods together . . . a life of danger and adventure . . . a chance for her to be herself again. . . .

Her phone vibrated. It was a text from her brother. It said two words:

i’m sorry.

Mimi blew out the flame. There was no need for it now.

So. She was right. Jack had forsaken her to be with the half-blood. He would not honor their celestial bond. He would not do his duty. She had sacrificed her love, but he would not sacrifice his. He had cast his lot to the winds—tempting fate, death, rebelling against the laws of Heaven and the laws of their blood bond.

She would never forgive him for that. She could have left for Paris when Kingsley had asked. She could have chosen happiness as well. But she had not. She had made her decision too late.

And now she was alone.

The Code of the Vampires decreed that anyone who violated the Sacred Law was condemned to death, the blood burning. Charles had refused to subject Allegra to the sentence. But Mimi was a different matter.

Mimi walked out of the church, knowing that if she ever saw Jack again, she would have to kill him.





SIXTY-NINE

Bliss


When Bliss woke up the day after Mimi’s bonding, she was lying in a comfortable bed under a patchwork quilt. Across from her sat an ordinary woman with ruddy cheeks and a quizzical expression, wearing a worn cashmere sweater and a wool argyle skirt.

“Miss Murray?” Bliss asked. What was her history teacher doing sitting across from her?

“You’ve had a hard time of it, love. Take it easy; don’t exert yourself.”

The room was small and cozy, and Bliss realized this was the entire apartment. She had never been in a space quite so small. It was the size of a closet, practically. There was room for a bed and a stove and nothing more. If Bliss wanted to exert herself, she could cook dinner while lying in bed at the same time. But even though it was small, it was warm and comfortable.

“What am I . . . ? What happened? Where’s . . . ?”

“Shhh,” Miss Murray said, putting a finger to her lips. “You should rest. She’ll be here soon. She wants to talk to you.”

“Who . . . ?”

A woman appeared out of the air. She was fair-haired and green-eyed, clad in white raiment that glowed softly with a pure white light. As soon as Bliss saw her, she knew. “Allegra,” she breathed. “It is you, isn’t it? Where am I? Am I dead?”

Allegra Van Alen smiled serenely. She looked a lot older than Bliss remembered from the hospital. The woman in the bed had seemed frozen in time, but this Allegra, standing in front of her, had lines on her face, and her hands were wrinkled. There was gray in her blond hair. But she was still very beautiful. Seeing her made Bliss want to weep.