chapter Thirty
Schuyler
chuyler texted Oliver when she left Decca's house. Need you. Come back? I can't do this alone.
Oliver returned to Los Angeles on the next available flight. Whatever duties he had to the Repository, his duties as her Conduit and friend always came first. Schuyler met him outside the airport and jumped into his arms as soon as he came out the door.
"Oh, hey," he said. "I missed you too." But she noticed he returned her hug rather awkwardly.
"I'm sorry..." She felt a little embarrassed at being so enthusiastic to see him, especially after everything that had happened between them.
"It's okay." He patted her back and stepped away from her, just the tiniest bit, and Schuyler understood that, while they were still friends, things had changed, and she couldn't take him for granted anymore. Whatever had happened with that witch in the East Village had really worked. He was his own man now.
"I have so much to tell you, I hardly know where to start," she said. "But first - tell me what happened in New York."
Oliver shook his head. "It wasn't good. The Repository's been destroyed, and Renfield was murdered. The Silver Bloods can break the wards now, so the Coven is basically unprotected."
Schuyler accepted this information; it was nothing new. The vampires' strength had weakened considerably since the Covens had disbanded.
"And it looks like someone else was there too. They rifled through the notes. The files were left open."
"Who?"
"I don't know." Oliver sighed. "Whoever it was used Bliss's code."
Bliss! Schuyler felt a glimmer of hope. "Do you think it was her?"
"Maybe. If luck is on our side. Remember Jane Murray? Our old history teacher? She has the spirit of the Watcher now, and she's back too. She made contact with the Coven. She's helping them to locate Bliss, see if she has the wolves."
So many pieces to this puzzle of theirs; so many things that had to happen before they had any chance of succeeding. And so many complications.
They walked toward the parking lot for the car. Oliver said, "There's more. The Silver Bloods burned down our safe house in London. Don't worry, no one was hurt - it was empty when they torched it. And the good news is that Kingsley's back."
"Where'd he go?"
"He wouldn't say, but wherever he went, he said he knows now what the demons are planning, and he thinks he might have an idea on how to subvert it. He's called for a Venator conclave to plan the attack."
"Attack?"
"He thinks it's better to draw them out, especially now that we know they're on to us and they found the safe house so easily. Since we know where the Gate of Promise is, he'd rather have them bring the battle to us than wait for them to sneak up on us. Show all our cards, as they say. Make it happen."
"Is that wise?"
"Who am I to judge? I'm just a lowly Conduit, not a Venator. But strategically, I think it's wise. We don't know when the Silver Bloods plan to ambush the gate, but this way, we can have the upper hand. We can prepare." He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "So tell me what's been happening here? Did you have a happy little reunion with your grandmother? Was she round and soft? Did she bake you cookies?"
Schuyler punched him in the arm. "Don't make fun! No, there weren't any cookies." She rolled her eyes. As far as she knew, neither of Oliver's grandmothers were the cookie-baking type either. Doro Samuels had worked to preserve Grand Central Terminal and Central Park, while Eleanor Hazard-Perry was a children's programming pioneer who taught kids how to read using tactics gleaned from vampire skills of instant memorization.
"She was cool, a grande dame, sort of like Cordelia but, you know...warmer," Schuyler said.
"Warm-blooded." Oliver smiled. "And did you find your dad?"
"Yeah," she said. "Come on."
The grass at the graveyard was lush and green, almost too alive, Schuyler thought. It was like a constant reminder of everything that was gone, everything lost. She'd brought a small bouquet of calla lilies, and when they found the headstone, she set them down.
"Sky, I'm so sorry," Oliver said. "I know this wasn't how you hoped it would turn out." He put an arm around her shoulder, and she leaned against him as she read the headstone.
STEPHEN BENDIX CHASE
BELOVED SON AND HUSBAND
The headstone didn't tell the whole story of his life, Schuyler thought, thinking not only of herself but of the sister she had yet to meet. Beloved son, husband, and father.
He had returned to his family in a box.
"Cancer," Schuyler told Oliver. "Stupid old cancer. He wasn't killed by a vampire. He wasn't killed by Charles out of revenge, as I'd feared for a while. He was just another young person taken too early."
Decca had told her the whole story: how Ben and Allegra had gone back to New York and how, in the end, Allegra had called them so they could say good-bye to their son. The disease had been swift and brutal. When they returned from the funeral, they discovered that they had a grandchild, as his ex-girlfriend had showed up at their doorstep with a baby. Renny had told Ben she was pregnant to get him to marry her, but when she admitted it was a fake pregnancy, he'd left to be with Allegra. Only it wasn't fake: Renny had figured out that he would never love her like he loved Allegra, and she'd freed him to be with her.
"Noble of her, I suppose," Decca had said, though Schuyler could tell that until she'd learned about Schuyler, she'd have preferred that Ben had stayed with the ex, Renny.
"Allegra was so distraught. She kept saying it was all her fault, that she had tried to get him to see a doctor for months, that he'd been coughing up blood but had insisted nothing was wrong. Then Cordelia wrote us this letter not long after, and we always assumed Allegra had died of a broken heart."
It was true in a way, Schuyler thought, remembering her mother lying motionless in a hospital bed.
"What was he like?" Schuyler asked.
"Ben?" Decca sighed. "I know mothers are biased, but Ben was one of the good ones, you know? He had it - whatever it was. He was so handsome, and everyone loved him, and he was always so kind - I think that's what mattered more - not his good looks - but that he was a good soul. I don't mean nice or polite, but someone who had a strong moral compass, someone with character. He was privileged, of course, but he wasn't spoiled. He was such a generous person. Like I said, he loved your mother so much. She was everything to him. It was a shame that he never knew his daughters. He would have been such a good father. He adored children."
Schuyler knelt down at the grave and ran her hand over the headstone. The granite was cool under her fingers and sparkled in the sunlight, glinting gray and pink. I wish I'd had a chance to know you. I wish that so much.
You'd have loved him, said a voice in her head. Allegra, inside her, grieving as well. She had not felt her mother's spirit in a while; it was different from the watchful presence that came and went. Schuyler could feel the warm love she always felt when Allegra was with her. Your grandmother spoke true. He was a wonderful man. He was the most unselfish, generous person I knew. He was such a happy person, he made me so happy. We were happy together until the end. I thought he would get a chance to know you. When I first met him, I saw a vision of the three of us together, of him at my bedside at your birth. But it was not to be. He was taken away too early. A few weeks after he passed, I discovered I was pregnant with you. Cordelia did what she did to protect you. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive her one day.
That's why she changed my name, Schuyler realized. To hide me from my father's family. Because I was not supposed to exist. I am half human and half vampire. An Abomination. My father never even knew me, and my mother only cared for the survival of the vampires.
Schuyler realized she had been holding on to a dream - that her father might still be alive and her mother would return.
It would never happen, not now, not ever.
Not in this lifetime, maybe, Allegra said. But the best that is in you is from him. He was the most unselfish person I ever knew. When he learned who and what I was, he told me to forgive Charles, that it was important I return to him. He wanted that for me, for us. Sometimes love means letting go, he said. Remember that when you arrive at the crossroads. When time stands still. When the path is open to you. Remember who your father was.
Oliver knelt down beside her. "You okay?"
Schuyler wiped a few errant tears off her cheeks and nodded, then stood up.
"This means we were wrong about the whole Blood of the Father thing," she said. "But there's still one more thing I'd like to do before we go back. Will you help me?"
"Of course I will. What is it?"
"I know this isn't really related to what we're doing, and I understand that we don't have a lot of time, but it turns out that before my father got back together with my mother, he had another girlfriend. And she had a baby. That means..."
"That you have a sister," Oliver said. "How many secret sisters can one girl have?" he joked.
"Funny," Schuyler said. "But I don't know if you can imagine what it means to me to know that I have more family out there. I need to find her."
They went back to the hotel and got on Oliver's computer. "Tell me her name," he said.
"Finn Chase, I think. Actually, I don't know - I'm not sure if she was using her mother's name, and I don't know what that is."
But Oliver was typing away. "Just Googled her. Got a Seraphina Chase on Facebook, goes by Finn." He pulled up her profile page. "Could this be her?"
Schuyler peered at the picture and recognized the girl from the photographs. "That's her."
"Let's see what she's like. Binge-drinking photos? Embarrassing status updates?"
Finn must have been a trusting soul, because she didn't have any privacy settings that would prevent them from looking at everything. There were lots of pictures - with her mom, her grandmother, her friends. In all of them she was smiling, happy. Unlike Oliver's predictions, there weren't any incriminating photographs, although there were a few obligatory shots of Finn holding a red Solo cup at parties.
"Hmm. Hopelessly wholesome, but that's U of Chicago for you. Supposedly everyone studies too much there," Oliver said. "A bunch of grinds."
"You'd fit right in," Schuyler teased.
"She looks a little bit like you," he said.
Schuyler couldn't see it at first - Finn was blond, to start. But then she looked closer and saw that they both shared the same blue eyes.
"She's pretty," Oliver said.
There was a time, Schuyler knew, when that statement would have elicited a pang of jealousy. She waited for it, but it never came.
"I want to meet her," she said, staring at the photo stream. It was like looking at what her life might have been, a gallery of everything that she had lost. Finn had a mom who loved her, grandparents who doted on her, and friends who clearly adored her, from the numerous "likes" on her page to the messages they scrawled on her wall. It was hard not to feel a little envious of the sister she never knew.
Allegra's legacy had been one of grief, pain, suffering, and war.
But Finn Chase was Ben's daughter. A normal human girl, with a normal life, a normal heart.
"Will you come with me to Chicago?" she asked Oliver.