chapter Sixty-Two
Schuyler
chuyler had chosen to go to college about as far away from New York City as she could while still remaining in the contiguous United States. The campus was beautiful, dotted with palm trees and reddish-tinted buildings made of stucco. She had joked with Oliver that it felt more like going to a country club than a university, as there was even a man-made lake for sailing lessons.
Three years had passed since the final battle. It was the first week of May, and Schuyler's friends were making plans for the summer - traveling scholarships, working internships; everyone ready to leave, ready to go. Schuyler was sitting on the grass with them, watching their animated faces, laughing at their jokes, but when they asked about her plans she shrugged.
She thought she could stay right here for as long as possible - watch the days get longer and the nights shorter, enjoy being young for as long as she could, even as she had celebrated her twenty-first birthday that September.
A breeze blew, and she gathered her things and hopped onto her bike, thinking she would stop by the library to pick up a few books for research on her thesis. She had finally decided on a major - had been tempted to follow her sister's path, but decided it was ultimately not for her, to Finn's disappointment. While she was drawn to art, she wasn't passionate enough to study it seriously.
Finn had moved to New York for work, and it was her cherished dream that the two of them could share an apartment in the city one day. But as much as Schuyler missed her sister and the city, she was enjoying being far away from so many memories. It was too soon. Schuyler enjoyed her anonymity in California. No one knew who she was, no one asked her questions about her past.
Lawrence had always advocated finding and fulfilling a passionate interest: Do not waste your life on drudgery, he had told her during those endless lessons.
So she had chosen a subject that fascinated her: History. Because it was said that those who did not study it were doomed to repeat it, and after what she had been through, that seemed reason enough to choose it.
She parked her bicycle and walked into the library, to her usual carrel, but discovered the librarian had given away her reservation to someone else by mistake. Schuyler sighed and settled at one of the big long tables in the middle of the library, where several students worked side by side.
She'd barely spread out her books when she noticed someone reading across from her. A boy. He looked so familiar.
He was reading about Roanoke.
Mimi
n all her lifetimes, Mimi Force had always had the perfect bonding. The perfect dress, the perfect venue, the perfect party.
This was unlike any bonding she had ever attended.
For one thing, it was in the underworld.
But somehow, Mimi liked the idea. There was something unseemly about it, and she liked the edginess of it. It felt just a little bit wicked in a time when there was little room for wickedness.
She had stood in the gardens of Elysium, she had tasted the water from the fountains, and when she was given a choice, she had chosen to come here.
With him.
They didn't belong up there. Eden wasn't home anymore. Not for the likes of them. She was made here. She was the Angel of Death. The one who would bring the Horsemen to the Apocalypse. What did she need the light of Elysium for? She was made of fire and brimstone, smoke and shadow.
They chose to come home.
"Are you sure?" he had asked.
"I'm sure."
Mimi liked having her own kingdom, her own domain. And the Duke of Hell needed a bride.
Besides, what more could she ask for when everything was perfect? There was a lot to do in the underworld, and they were going to make it beautiful. Things were going to change around here, now that the wolves were free. Hell was about to freeze over.
"We're going to transform this place," Kingsley said. "No one will be here who doesn't want to be here, and those who stay will help us rebuild."
Their bonding ceremony was going to take place somewhere that would have been inconceivable a few short years ago: a rose garden, one that Kingsley had tended with his own hands.
He stood in the middle of the flowers. He was still Kingsley, his hair rakish, his clothes just a little askew. And what was Mimi wearing? She didn't care. She could have been wearing rags; perhaps she was. It didn't matter.
Kingsley handed her a bouquet.
"Still sure you don't want a big party? With your friends, or whoever?"
She shook her head. "Jack is gone, and Bliss is one of the wolves now. Schuyler and I were never close. Oliver, maybe, but he's so busy. It doesn't matter. Everyone else...they're not important. Only you."
"Shall we, then?" Kingsley asked.
She nodded.
Mimi said the words she had been waiting to say her whole immortal lifetime, words that would matter to the person hearing them.
A new bond. To replace the old one. One of their own making, of their own choice.
"I give myself to you," Kingsley said, hands in hers. "And I accept you for who you are. You are the world to me."
Mimi smiled at him, a blazing, terrifyingly happy smile, and she felt as if she would burst from joy. Kingsley swept her off her feet and into his arms, and she knew she had made the right decision.
But then again, Mimi Force was rarely ever wrong.