The Van Alen Legacy

“Come,” Allegra said, holding out her arms. “Come here, my daughter.”


“So it’s true,” Bliss whispered. “I am yours.”

“I am sorry I have not been here for you, but your existence was hidden from me for a very long time,” she said, and the sadness in her voice was unmistakable.

“Then how? Why?”

“You came to visit me not too long ago.”

“Yes.” Bliss nodded. She remembered that surreptitious visit to the hospital, while Allegra remained immobile in her bed.

“When you came to see me, I felt a presence I had not felt in a very long time. I was very afraid and I was very angry. I screamed. I think the whole hospital heard me. But now I understand that Charles and Lawrence did what they felt they had to. They did it for love, and sometimes love makes us do the irrational . . . even the inexcusable. But I don’t know if I will ever forgive them for what they tried to do to you,” Allegra said quietly.

Bliss curled her fists up in the quilt. She had a mother, but she had also been robbed of one. “So Lucifer did not lie to me,” she said stonily. She felt conflicted and agonized.

“No, he did not. You are ours.”

“But how—how—you were bound to Michael.”

Allegra nodded. “Yes. It is a long and painful story. But know that we made you together. In love.”

“Where are you? Are you here? Are you actually here?”

“I am in you. I did not find the link until now. As I told your sister, I will always be with you.”

“Okay.” Bliss blinked back her tears.

“Do you notice anything different about yourself ?” Allegra asked.

“Like what?” She had no idea what Allegra was talking about—until she stopped to think about it. There was silence. She was alone in her body. The voices were gone. The heaviness—those many souls that had lived in her— they were gone. Most important, the Visitor was gone.

“Michael’s sword killed your blood link to Lucifer. Your father was using you as a way to reach through the boundary that was keeping him in the underworld.”

“So I’m not dead. But my father is dead in me.” Bliss was overwhelmed with relief. She had her life back. She’d done it—she had successfully killed herself, just as she and Dylan had known would be her task. She’d done it. . . .

And then, as if she had conjured him from the air, Dylan appeared next to Allegra. “I’m proud of you, Bliss,” he said. “Michael’s sword released the souls that were trapped in your blood. You freed them. You freed me.”

“But now I’m never going to see you again, am I?” she asked.

Dylan smiled. “It’s unlikely. But I never say never.”

“I wish you wouldn’t go. I’ll miss you so much,” Bliss said.

“I’ll miss you too.”

Dylan put his hand up, and so did Bliss. But this time, instead of touching air, she felt his warm hand grasping her cold one. She looked at Allegra. Somehow, she knew her mother was making this happen. Dylan leaned down, and she could feel his lips, soft and inviting, gently kissing hers.

Then Dylan was gone. But Bliss did not feel anguished. She felt at peace. Dylan was not broken and incomplete anymore. He was whole.

“You are healed.” Allegra nodded. “You are no longer a Silver Blood.” She paused. “But you are no longer a vampire either.”

Bliss started. No longer a vampire—but what did that mean? Did it mean she was just human?

Now, listen closely. Bliss heard Allegra’s voice in her head— in the glom—as if she were speaking directly into Bliss’s mind. A long time ago when the world was young and the paths between Heaven and Hell were still open, Lucifer brought the beasts out of the ground, the hounds of Hell. But their alliance with the Silver Bloods was short-lived. The wolves are demon fighters. They stood with the Blue Bloods during the crisis. But over the centuries we have become estranged. You must find them. The Blue Bloods will need them in the final battle with the Silver Bloods. Find the wolves. Tame them. Bring them back into the fold.

But where do I start?

I have not left you alone. You will have someone to help you with your task. Someone who loves you and will take care of you since I cannot.

Bliss understood. Miss Murray was standing next to Allegra, and she did not look like an apple-cheeked history teacher. Instead, her eyes were gray and serious . . . and Bliss gasped.

Jordan?

You knew me by that name once. Her teacher nodded. But my true name is . . .

Sophia.

Quite right. Good girl. Miss Murray beamed.

Is that what I should call you?

I think Miss Murray will do for now. Although, if you like, you can call me Aunt Jane.

Michael’s sword. You were the one who slipped it into my bouquet. I’m right, aren’t I? Bliss asked.

Her teacher did not deny it. I knew you would use it the right way. I had faith in you.