Melissa de la Cruz - Revelations

"So why is the Conclave here, Lawrence?" Oliver asked. "Is it because of Leviathan?"

"The Conclave is here?" Lawrence asked sharply.

"Oh! I forgot to mention it—yeah. They're here. All of them," Schuyler said. "I think they arrived last night."

Lawrence mulled over this latest piece of information while draining his drink. As if she had vampire ability of her own, the waitress reappeared with another cocktail at his elbow. "More virgin coladas?" she asked, motioning to the half-empty glasses filled with melting yellow goo.

"Make mine a whiskey," Oliver coughed.

"Make that two," Schuyler quickly added, thinking she would risk her grandfather's censure later. "Who's Leviathan?" she asked, turning to Oliver. Around them the bar was starting to fill up with sunburned tourists coming in for happy hour, and a samba band began to play a rousing set.

"If you'd done your reading, Granddaughter, you would know the answer to that question," Lawrence replied.

"Leviathan's a demon." Oliver explained.

"One of the mightiest Silver Bloods of all time," Lawrence said. "The brother of the Dark Prince himself. His second-in-command."

Schuyler shuddered. "But what's he got to do with anything?" She wished the music weren't so loud. The bright, happy sound was in stark contrast to the dark subject of their conversation.

"Corcovado is Leviathan's prison," Lawrence replied. "It is the only place on earth that could hold him. He was too strong to be slain, and was too rooted in the earth to be sent back to hell. When he was captured he was imprisoned in rock underneath the Statue of the Redeemer. Your own mother took him down."

So that's what Lawrence was keeping from her the night he left. Protecting her from the truth and not telling her everything about Corcovado. Leviathan. That visceral hatred she'd felt the day of the fashion show. If she'd paid more attention to her books she could have figured it out sooner. But she'd been too distracted…

"Yes. That was him that evening of the earthquake," Lawrence confirmed. "He is the reason Corcovado is guarded by the Venator elite. We have always kept a strong presence here."

"Now I get it," Schuyler said. "Why you came down here, I mean."

Lawrence nodded. "When Kingsley first brought news of the strange disappearances in Rio, I was a bit unnerved. After the earthquake, I realized I would have to take matters into my own hands and make certain Corcovado remained fortified. I vowed I would not leave the city until I was sure that the threat—if there was one—was completely disarmed.

"Then a few weeks ago, the Venators confirmed that Yana, the young vampire who'd been missing, had simply run off for a beach vacation with her boyfriend, just as her mother had thought. Meanwhile Kingsley's team brought in Alfonso Almeida, the missing patriarch of the South American clan, after an extensive search in the Andes. Aside from frostbite and an inability to read a map, he was fine.

"So as I told you in my messages, everything was secure. There was no breaking."

"Leviathan?" Oliver asked.

"Trapped for eternity as far as I could see," Lawrence said dismissively.

"But the sending…the earthquake," Schuyler argued, trying to talk over the deafening sound of the crowd and the relentless samba drums.

"Mere symptoms in his struggle to break free of his chains. Nothing Leviathan has tried before. But it is of no use. Corcovado will hold forever." He rapped the table with his glass, as if to stress his point.

"So why does the Conclave think Corcovado is a danger then?" she asked.

"Is that why they are here?"

Schuyler nodded.

"I don't know. But Nan must have her reasons; the Regent would never act without just cause." Lawrence finished his drink. "Then again, maybe Kingsley is right," he said softly to himself.

"Kingsley!" Schuyler exploded. "How can you trust him? You said yourself, never to trust shiny surfaces. Kingsley's as slick as they come."

"Actually Kingsley has proven his loyalty to the Coven above and beyond the call of duty. Do not speak of him so disrespectfully, Granddaughter," Lawrence said sternly.

"That stunt he pulled at the Repository? That was how he proved his loyalty?"

"Kingsley was only doing what was asked of him. He was following the orders of his Regis."

"You mean Charles told him to call up the Silver Blood?" Schuyler half laughed in indignation. Michael was an Archangel. He would never be capable of such treachery.

"There is a reason for everything. Perhaps even for this sudden influx of Elders into this city," Lawrence surmised.

"You know, the Almeidas are giving a dinner tonight," Oliver interrupted. "For the whole Conclave." He checked his watch. "I think it's already started."

Lawrence signaled for the bill. "Very good. Perhaps we will find our answers there. At the very least, the Almeidas throw a wonderful party."

There was a sharp rap on the door, and Bliss noticed how both her parents jumped at the sound. Forsyth took a quick step and looked through the keyhole. "It's all right," he declared, unlocking the door. A stern, elegant woman with a white streak in her raven hair strode into the room, followed by two servants.

Bliss had always been a little afraid of Warden Cutler. The Elder had been the one who had probed her mind for Silver Blood corruption. She still remembered the disquieting feeling of being judged.

"Where is the Watcher?" Nan Cutler asked.

BobiAnne indicated the bundle at the far end of the room.

"You've put her in stasis?"

Forsyth nodded. "Yes. It's going to be a long time until she wakes up."

"We found her with this," BobiAnne said, handing Jordan's weapon to the Warden.

"We need to find a way to destroy it; it's too dangerous for us to use," Forsyth said. "I thought that spell was enough to hold it in the vault, but obviously she was able to disarm it. She's too clever by half."

"If there is a way to destroy it," Nan said. "It's not susceptible to the Black Fire."

"You will be able to manage?" Forsyth asked.

"You won't be followed?" BobiAnne wanted to know.

Bliss watched as the grim-faced Warden shook her head. "No, we will not be followed. We will make sure of that. It is amazing she waited this long, really, to make her move. But do not worry, I will make certain that she is no longer a threat to us." She looked with disdain in the direction of the comforter. "Cordelia Van Alen was weak minded as usual to think sending the Watcher into your family would solve anything."

"She suspected, then?" BobiAnne asked.

"Of course she suspected," Forsyth snapped. "You don't give her enough credit, Nan. That bird was sharp. She knew something was up."

"A pity her little assassin was as ineffectual as she was, then." Nan signaled, and her servants picked up the bundle and left the room.

Bliss had no idea what they were talking about, but was desperate to find out. What did Cordelia Van Alen suspect?

"We have to hurry," BobiAnne said to her husband. "The dinner starts in an hour."

Forsyth nodded.

"What's going on? Where are you going?" Bliss asked, fighting tears of frustration. "Where are they taking Jordan?" She wondered what had sparked her little sister to do something so crazy. But her parents refused to explain or tell her anything more than the cryptic comments they'd made.

They left for the big dinner at the Almeidas', as if nothing at all had happened. BobiAnne even told Bliss she could order anything she wanted off the room-service menu.

She had to accept it.

Jordan was gone.

Her younger sister, who used to follow her around, trying to emulate her every move. At five Jordan had wanted big curly hair like her sister, and forced the maids to use a curling iron on her stubbornly straight locks, so that her hair would resemble her sister's. Jordan, who had called her "Biss" when she was a baby because she couldn't pronounce her name correctly. Jordan, who'd offered her chocolate and comfort just the other day. Bliss found that there were tears in her eyes.