last
night at Oliver’s, where she had been staying since returning from South America. She hadn’t the
courage to go back to the brownstone on
101st Street
. It hurt too much to know that there would be
no Lawrence puffing on his cigar in his study. Her grandfather’s Conduit advised her to leave the
country as soon as possible. He had read the transcript of the investigation. “You cannot take
chances. No one knows what will happen tomorrow. It is better that you go now and disappear
before they can renounce you as a traitor.”
“I told you,” Oliver said,
looking meaningfully at Schuyler.
“But where would we go?” she
asked.
“Everywhere. Do
not stay anywhere for longer than seventy-two hours. The Venators are fast, but they will be
using the glom to find you, and it will slow them down a little. Wherever you go, make sure you
end up in Paris next August.”
“Why Paris?” Schuyler asked.
“The full European Coven
converges every other year for a grand party and a congress,” Anderson said. “Lawrence had been
planning to attend the biannual meeting. You shall take his place instead. The countess will see
you. The Conclaves have been estranged ever since the Blue Bloods left the Old Country. She never
had any faith in Michael and the New York Coven. She will have even less faith now, when she
hears of Lawrence’s demise. She was one of his oldest friends.”
The countess had been a friend
to Cordelia as well, Schuyler realized later. She vaguely remembered the royal couple: their
stately home had made more of an impression. She hadn’t thought anything in particular of them
except that they had seemed gracious and extremely wealthy, just like everyone in Cordelia’s
circle. Now Schuyler understood they were special. The countess had been married to the late
Prince Henri, who would have been the King of France save the Revolution. Henri had been Regis of
the European Conclave. Upon the end of his cycle, his queen had assumed the title.
Anderson was leaving the city
too. Upon a vampire’s death, human Conduits were released from service and allowed a choice: the
Repository or freedom. They could work for the Coven at large, or they could have a normal
life.
Anderson told them he had no
desire to live out the rest of his life in a basement. He was going back to Venice, back to the
University. Of course, his memory would be erased by the Conclave. That was a prerequisite to his
leaving them. The Blue Bloods kept their secrets.
Schuyler understood Anderson’s
choice, but it saddened her all the same. Anderson was the last remaining link to her
grandfather. Once he left the Coven, he would be a stranger to her. But she would not deny him
his desire for an ordinary existence. He had spent a lifetime in service to the Van
Alens.
“Go and find the countess,”
Anderson continued. ‘ tell her everything that has happened. There has been distrust
between the covens, so she might not know the truth about the massacre in Rio. And,
Schuyler?”
“Yes?”
“I know what they’ve planned
for me tomorrow at my exit interview. The forced amnesia. But don’t worry, I will
never forget you.” He shook her hand, and she clasped his in hers.
“Nor shall I forget your great
kindness,” Schuyler replied. Oliver was right as usual. They had to leave immediately. The
Venators would come for her that evening. They would come to take her away.
“The countess will help
you.”
Schuyler hoped her
grandfather’s old friend was right.
TEN
Schuyler
“Look at you,” Oliver
murmured, coming up from behind to rest a warm hand on Schuyler’s exposed hip.
She turned to him with a soft
smile and placed her hand firmly on top of his so that they were practically embracing. Whatever
happened tonight, at least they had each other. It was a source of great consolation to both of
them.
“You don’t look too bad