Melissa de la Cruz - Revelations

She thought that when she finally saw Allegra she would sense something—know for sure whether she was related to her or not. But there was nothing. Bliss touched the necklace hidden underneath her shirt for comfort, then reached over to hold Allegra's hand, feeling her papery skin. She closed her eyes and tried to access her past lives, her memories, to see if she had any knowledge of Gabrielle.

In flashes she would catch a glimpse of someone who looked familiar, who might have been her, but Bliss wasn't sure. In the end, the woman in the bed was as much a stranger as the nurse in the hallway.

"Allegra?" Bliss whispered. It seemed presumptuous to call her "mother." "It's me. I'm…Bliss. I don't know if you remember me, but I think you might be my …" Bliss suddenly stopped short. She felt a pain in her chest, as if she couldn't breathe. What was she doing here? She had to go. She had to leave immediately.

She was right; she would find no answers here. She would never know the truth. Her father would never tell her, and Allegra could not.

Bliss left, troubled and confused, still seeking answers to questions she kept in her heart.

She did not know that when she left the room, Allegra Van Alen began to scream.

Committee meetings never started on time, so Mimi didn't worry when her conference call with her bonding planner ran a little longer than she'd planned. Ever since Lawrence had been installed as Regis, the meetings had less and less to do with social planning and fund-raising and more to do with, in her opinion, totally redundant vampire lessons.

Edmund Oelrich, the doddering senile goat from the Conclave who was the new chief warden, didn't run as tight a ship as the late Priscilla Dupont, and was completely ignorant of the fact that if they wanted to secure the right honorary chairs for the annual spring gala for the ballet in May, they should have sent feelers out a few weeks ago. As it was, all the former First Ladies were already unavailable, and the governor's wife was immersed in her husband's latest scandal. At this rate they would have to settle for the mayor's girlfriend, who wasn't remotely fashionable or at all interested in doing social work under the guise of social-climbing.

Mimi entered the library room at Duchesne, found a seat in the back, and tapped on the Bluetooth device attached to her ear as an excuse for not greeting her friends. She thought the Committee's lessons were a complete waste of time. She'd been adept at all her skills since transformation, and it galled her that other vampires were so slow. Today they were supposed to learn more about mutatio, the ability to change into the elements: fire, water, air. Mimi sighed. She had been disappearing into a fog since she was eleven. She had "developed" early, as they say.

"Sorry, could you repeat that again?" she asked, shaking the tiny silver receiver wedged in her ear. "You think we could have it at the White House? No?"

The firm she'd hired, Elizabeth Tilton Events, had recently orchestrated a five-day extravaganza in Cartagena, wherein Don Alejandro Castaсeda, the Blue Blood heir to his father's sugar-and-beverage fortune, had been bonded to his vampire twin, Danielle Russell, a recent Brown graduate. Mimi and Jack had represented the family, and Mimi had been a little miffed when the talk at the rehearsal dinner was about how extraordinary everything had been. The best man had announced that "the next bonding will have to be on the moon, since no one else is going to top this!"

Mimi was sure going to try.

"Darling," Lizbet Tilton cooed. "I'm sorry, but with the new administration, the Rose Garden is out of the question. I don't think we contributed enough to the campaign. But there has to be somewhere else you'd like to have it."

"What about Buckingham, then? I'm sure my father can call in a favor."

Lizbet laughed heartily. "Sweetheart, what century are you in? Have you got your lifetimes confused? Even though you're a Royal, that branch of the clan has never forgiven us for leaving. Besides, they're terribly strict these days. Even Charles and Camilla had to get married off-site."

Mimi pouted. "Well, I guess we could do it in on the island," she said, noticing that Schuyler and Bliss had just entered the room. Mimi sent a quick suggestion and caused Schuyler to suddenly trip. Ha. Someone sure wasn't doing their occludo lessons. Schuyler's mind was as open as a wound.

"You mean your dad's place in Sandy Cay?" Lizbet asked. "That would be fabulous." The Forces owned their own private island in the Bahamas. "Everyone could jet down for the weekend, and if they don't have wings we could charter a plane. We just did that for Alex and Dani in Colombia."

Mimi so did not want her bonding to be just like anyone else's.

"What about Italy?" Lizbet suggested. "One of the ancestral palaces? You guys still have that place in Tuscany?"

"Um, no. Not Italy. Bad memories?" Mimi chided, glaring at the group that was staring at her. The chief warden and the rest of the senior committee had finally arrived, and lessons were about to commence.

"Right. Sorry."

"You know," Lizbet said thoughtfully, "with all the hoopla of everyone getting bonded everywhere, no one has done a five-star New York bonding in decades."

"Here? Just at home?" Mimi frowned. That did not sound special at all.

Up front, Edmund Oelrich was shuffling papers at the podium and greeting the well-preserved women who made up the senior committee.

"Saint John the Divine is a fabulous Gothic cathedral. You could wear a train longer than Princess Di's. And we could get the Boys Choir of Harlem. It would be properly angelic."

Mimi considered the suggestion. It was indeed a beautiful church, she told Lizbet, and they could have the reception at the Temple of Dendur at the Metropolitan Museum afterward. Charles was a museum trustee and had been particularly generous that year. She waved to Jack, who had just come in the door. Her brother joined her and gave a quick smile.

"Who are you talking to?" he mouthed.

"So, we're on the same page here? Saint John's? And then the Met?" Lizbet was asking. "And you did say you wanted to invite the whole Four Hundred, yes?"

"Done and done!" Mimi said with satisfaction. She put away her phone and smiled at her brother. Now that she knew his secret, she noticed that he looked everywhere in the room except toward the corner where Schuyler was sitting.

Schuyler's sidekick, that equally annoying human Oliver, arrived soon after. That was another travesty—letting humans into their exclusive meetings. Charles would never have allowed it during his tenure. But Lawrence had made it clear he expected the Conduits to undergo their own training as well, and what better way to learn about their calling than to join the Committee.

Mimi sensed Jack tense by her side. Oliver had kissed Schuyler on the cheek. That was interesting. She used her vampire sense to zero in on Oliver's neck. She spotted the telltale bite marks immediately. They were undetectable to the human eye, but glaring to the vampire sight. So. The little half-blood had made her best friend her familiar.

Well.

It gave Mimi an idea. If Schuyler wasn't going to give up her pathetic little liaison with Jack, then maybe she could be forced to.

Oliver could prove useful.

Mimi would have to act fast. She'd told Lizbet she wanted her bonding to take place in three months.

Unlike Mimi, Bliss enjoyed the Committee's new agenda. She liked discovering and using her vampire abilities, instead of merely memorizing boring facts about their history, or stuffing envelopes and critiquing caterers for extravagant events that she didn't look forward to attending. Lessons got her blood pumping. She was thrilled to find herself adept at some of the more difficult tasks, like the mutatio, for instance.