Мелисса де ла Круз - Masquerade

"Your grandmother always said never to trust shiny surfaces. They hide a multitude of flaws.”

As she walked into the school, Schuyler bumped into Jack Force, who was coming in from the side door. Jack was still wearing his dark gray suit from the hearing, and his eyes were red-rimmed, as if from crying. Schuyler felt a stab of pity. While she had no love for Mimi, Jack was a reminder that not everyone felt the same way.

"She didn't do it, you know," he said preemptively.

Schuyler flushed, thinking, She wanted to destroy me! She admitted it herself! But to Jack she said coolly, "That's not what the court found.”

"Mimi's selfish…but she's not evil," Jack implored. The afternoon bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period and the start of classes. Students began streaming out of the cafeteria, up the stairs, and crowding the marble foyer, where Jack and Schuyler were standing. Several whispered to each other as they noticed Jack and Schuyler huddled in conversation. Some Blue Bloods who had attended the hearing looked sympathetic when they saw Jack, while others glared, and one went so far as to hiss at his presence. A special Committee meeting had been scheduled that afternoon to alert junior members on the latest discoveries.

"She would never truly hurt another person." Jack continued to press his sister's case.

"She doesn't hate you. Not really." He wished he could explain. It not you she hates, Schuyler. It's me. She just turned her anger outward because she couldn't bring herself to hate whom she loves. And she does hate me for what I have done—for loving you.

Schuyler looked at him skeptically, but remained silent. Mimi Force. Azrael. The Angel of Death? Wasn't that Mimi's job? To bring about the end of life? To her surprise, Jack seemed to be able to read her mind.

"You don't understand—it is part of the balance. We are who we are. Death is as much a part of life. It is the gift of the Red Bloods. Mimi is part of the grand plan," Jack said.

Schuyler shrugged. "I'm not so sure," she said. "Goodbye, Jack.”

FORTY-THREE

Lawrence was poring over archives from the Repository, and noticed that one clipping had been completely burned except for the date on the top. November 23, 1872. He was still puzzling over it when Schuyler returned from school. She told her grandfather about Jack Force being able to read her mind that afternoon.

"I thought I was safe from telepathy, and yet he was still able to read my thoughts. Why?"

she asked.

"Abbadon has always been one of our most gifted seers," Lawrence said. "It will take more than a simple occludo exercise to close one's mind from him. But it sometimes happens that those who are drawn to each other can share a kinship of some kind.”

"Drawn to each other?" Schuyler asked.

"You must have noticed he is drawn to you," Lawrence said.

Schuyler blushed. She had hoped but she had never thought of it as a reality. And yet, even with his bond with Mimi, he had sought her friendship and hinted that maybe he would be interested in something more.…He had kissed her once, so long ago. And the boy behind the mask…Could it have been him?

"But he is bonded," Schuyler said. "It cannot be.”

"No. Not among our kind. Abbadon has always been this way. You were not the first to tempt his fidelity," Lawrence said. "But it will pass. Thank goodness you are not drawn to him.

Otherwise it will spell disaster for both of you.”

She looked down at the carpet, wondering if her grandfather was testing her, or if he merely assumed that Schuyler would choose the right path simply because she was his granddaughter.

"Yes," she said. "Thank God for that.”

She felt a sudden light-headedness, and her vision became pixilated and blurry; her knees buckled, but before she could collapse, Lawrence leaped to his feet and steadied her. "You have not done as you were told," he said grimly. "You have not taken a human familiar. You are weakening.”

She shook her head.

"This is not a trivial matter, Schuyler. If you do not take a familiar, there is a very real danger you will succumb to a coma like your mother.”

"But I…”

Lawrence cut her off with a curt directive. "You must hunt, then—use the seduction. The call. That is the only way now.”

The Caerimonia Osculor was a ritual between vampire and human that was usually a development within an existing relationship. That was why human familiars were traditionally lovers and friends of Blue Bloods. But the Code also allowed for the use of the powers of Seduction if the vampire was desperate. The vampire would use The Call to draw the human to him, hypnotizing the human and drawing its blood.

"I have taught you the words from the sacred language that would induce it," Lawrence said. "I will be going to the club tonight. When I return, I will trust that you have performed what is necessary.”

Her grandfather departed soon after that, leaving Schuyler upstairs in her room. I don't want to, she thought stubbornly. I don't want to do it with a stranger. I don't want to do it with someone I don't know. I'm not desperate! Or am I?

Then, almost as if drawn by the call, someone knocked on Schuyler's bedroom door.

"What is it, Hattie?" Schuyler asked.

The door opened. "It's not Hattie, it's me," Oliver said, slouching in the doorway.

"I didn't hear the front door open. What are you doing here?" Schuyler asked defensively.

"Your grandfather told me you wanted me to come over," Oliver explained.

Ah. So Lawrence had performed a call of his own. Only, this one merely involved the use of a telephone. Very clever, grandfather, Schuyler thought.

Oliver walked over to sit on the footlocker across from Schuyler's bed. He looked at her pensively. "I was thinking…if you still want to do it, we can.”

"You mean?”

"Yeah.”

"Here?" Schuyler asked, looking around at her room, at her Evanescence posters, the pink Barbie dream house, the row of Playbill covers—Rent, Avenue Q, The Boy from Oz—taped on her wall during the time when Cordelia regularly took her to Broadway musicals. It was still a childish bedroom and painted Mountain Dew yellow. It didn't look like the lair of a vampire.

"As good a place as any," Oliver shrugged. "Besides, it'll save me the cost of a hotel room.”

"You're sure about this?" Schuyler asked, reaching for his hand.

"Yes." Oliver exhaled. "I know what's going to happen to you if you don't, and between you and me, I'd prefer it if you weren't a vegetable. I hate vegetables," he joked. "Especially broccoli…So how do we…" Oliver said. "Should I stand? Or…" He stood up and looked around.

He was so much taller than she was.

"No, sit down," Schuyler said, pushing him gently by the shoulders onto her bed. "This way I can reach down." She stood between his legs. He looked up at her. She thought he had never looked so handsome, or so vulnerable.

Oliver closed his eyes. "Be gentle.”

Schuyler leaned down, kissed the hollow at the base of his neck, and then, ever so gently, she elongated her fangs and stuck them in.

Oliver whistled between his teeth, as if in pain. "Should I stop?”

"No…go on…" he said, waving a hand.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?”

"No…It feels…good, actually," he whispered. He put a hand on her head and guided her to his neck again.

Schuyler closed her eyes and sank her fangs back into his neck. As she did so, her senses heightened, and his mind became open to her. The blood memory came flashing out. It was just as Bliss had said: she was devouring his soul, his very being…and, what was this? His mind was an open book to her now, his blood mixing with hers, reviving hers…and she could read every thought he'd ever had in his life…could access every memory.