The Gates of Paradise (16 page)

he next morning, Bliss told the pack about her nightmare, about the sense she’d had of being underground but still in Rome. “Is there anything under any of these ancient places? Like tunnels or a part of the city? Maybe under the Colosseum or the Forum or the Pantheon, even? The place we’re looking for doesn’t necessarily have to have been built during Caligula’s time; maybe it just had to exist when he was emperor.”

“So full of ideas this morning! So energetic,” Ahramin said. “And I thought you surely had to be tired from not getting any sleep last night.”

“Who said I didn’t get any sleep?” Bliss asked. Had they woken Ahramin up? Had she heard them hooking up? And if so, what was it to her?

“Please,” Ahramin said, looking annoyed.

“What’s with you?” Edon asked.

Ahramin shrugged and ignored him.

“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me,” Edon said, finally sounding truly angry.

“Stop bickering,” Lawson said, ignoring Ahramin’s glare. “Bliss, tell us more.”

“This dream I had last night, I’m pretty sure it’s connected to what we’re looking for. I felt like it happened underground.”

“Well, there are the catacombs, of course,” Malcolm said.

“Breakfast first,” Edon said. “We have a long day ahead of us.” He went downstairs to the kitchen, pointedly ignoring Ahramin, and the boys followed.

Ahramin lingered behind. “The whole place could hear you,” she sneered.

“So what?” Bliss shot back. “What do you care?”

“Ask Lawson.”

“I’m asking
you
,” Bliss said, but Ahri had already stormed out of the room.

Great. As if things weren’t hard enough.

Bliss pulled Lawson aside as they walked toward the Colosseum, Malcolm’s choice for their outing. “What’s going on between you and Ahri?” she asked. “She’s making me nuts, and I can tell Edon’s starting to freak out too.”

“There’s nothing going on,” Lawson said.

“Yeah, right,” Bliss said. “Clearly you guys have some sort of history, and one that Edon doesn’t know about. Or didn’t, anyway. I think he’s on to you, and he’s getting pretty pissed off.”

“It’s not important,” Lawson said, but he didn’t deny it, and Bliss felt her stomach sink at that. Her suspicions were right, then…maybe?

“I’m not sure you’re in the best position to decide that right now,” said Bliss.

“Well, that’s all I have to say about it,” Lawson said. “Let it go.”

“Not so fast,” Bliss yelled as he walked away.

The rest of the pack turned around to look at her.

“Give us a minute,” she said, catching up to Lawson and pulling him aside.

“We don’t have time for this.” He brushed her arm away.

“You’re going to have to make time. I don’t understand why Ahramin is behaving this way, and I can tell Edon doesn’t either. If we’re going to work together, we’re all going to have to find a way to get along, and I can’t have Ahri making nasty comments every time you and I…” Her voice trailed off and she blushed.

She’d felt so close to him last night, and now he was as distant as ever. Would it always be like this between them?

Lawson didn’t seem to catch it, though. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Do you not see it? She’s acting so weird lately, like she’s jealous…of us. I don’t understand why she’d care. But there must be a reason for it. If I’m wrong about that, I
want to know, and I bet Edon does too.”

Lawson sighed. “Is there somewhere we can sit down?”

“There’s a bench over there.”

He sat with his head in his hands for a moment before speaking. “I’d really hoped this wasn’t going to be an issue.”

So something did happen between them. Bliss inhaled sharply and tried not to let what he was about to tell her hurt so much.

Lawson shook his head; then in a soft, almost inaudible voice, he confessed.

“It only happened once, the night before the trials. I was so keyed up, so afraid of what was about to happen. I’d trained for weeks. If I lost, I would die.” He couldn’t look her in the eye. His voice was flat. “She came into my bed, just as I was about to sleep. I didn’t know what was happening until it was too late. She seduced me. She was my brother’s mate. She knew I was scared and she used it against me. Then the next day, I found out why she had done it.

“I entered the arena. They hadn’t told me who my opponent was, but somehow she knew. It was her. I would have had to kill her to win, to make alpha. It was either her or me.

“I couldn’t. Not only because of what we’d done the night before, but because of who she was. I loved her too, as a sister. She must have worried that that wouldn’t have stopped me, so that’s why she seduced me, just to make sure I lost. I thought the masters would kill me. I wanted them to, after everything that happened. I couldn’t face Edon. I don’t love Ahri, and I don’t think she loves me. I think she’s just angry and confused. I don’t know. I think she wanted to win. She wanted to be alpha.”

“That’s terrible,” Bliss said, though she wasn’t sure whether she was referring to what Ahri had done, or Lawson.

“I figured losing at the trials was my punishment. I meant nothing to her, so I knew she’d never tell Edon, and no one would ever know.”

“Did you—” Bliss almost couldn’t bring herself to ask. “You didn’t leave her behind on purpose, did you? When you guys escaped from Hell?”

Lawson looked as if she’d hit him. “You have to know I would never do that. I’d rather have faced Edon than leave her in the underworld by herself. I would never wish that on her. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I thought at first that maybe she believed I had, though, and that I was partly to blame for what happened to her down there. But then I realized that if that were true, she’d have said something. To hurt me, or to hurt Edon.”

“If she was content to keep it a secret, I don’t understand why she’s acting like this now,” Bliss said.

Lawson raised an eyebrow at her. “You really don’t?”

“Why would I?”

“She’s jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Of you. Of you and me, I guess, but probably mostly of you. There’s something special about you, and she knows it. We all do.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Bliss said. “She just saw you with someone else, and now she wants you back. I think maybe she always wanted you and settled for Edon.”

“Maybe.” Lawson considered the possibility. “But she didn’t get quite this bent out of shape when she found out about me and Tala. She was pissed, but she never seemed jealous. No, it’s you.” Tala had been his mate until she was killed by Romulus, before he and Bliss even met.

“Well, you need to do something about it. We have to figure out what caused the break in the timeline, and we need everyone to be able to work together.”

“It will be fine,” Lawson said. “Just let it go.”

Bliss thought Lawson was such a boy sometimes, hoping that something would go away if he ignored it long enough.

“Let what go?” Edon said.

Bliss hadn’t noticed the rest of the pack in front of them. So much for a private conversation. “It’s nothing,” she said.

“Yeah, forget about it,” Lawson said.

“Because it meant nothing to you?” Ahramin asked.

“What are you talking about?” Edon asked. “Ahri, what are you talking about?” But then Bliss saw the look of comprehension cross his face. “No. No, you didn’t. You couldn’t have.”

He could have been talking to either one of them.

“Edon, it’s not what you think,” Lawson said.

“It’s exactly what I think,” Edon said. “It couldn’t be clearer.” He turned to Ahramin. “I love you. Why would you do that to me?”

“Because I wanted to be alpha. I did what I had to do. We needed a leader. A real leader and not one who rolled over and sat up for the masters. I’m sorry, Edon, but it had to be done.”

Edon turned away.

“Edon!” Lawson yelled. “Edon!”

Edon shifted into a wolf and growled. For a moment it looked as if he would rear up and lunge at Lawson. But he stumbled back against the wall and then stormed away.

Lawson’s face was full of anguish. “Edon!”

“Let him go,” Ahramin said. “He’ll come back. He has nowhere else to go.”

nce upon a time, before Schuyler had discovered she was different, that she was a vampire, that she would have to continue what her mother had started, she had been a regular girl at a competitive and elite private school in Manhattan. And as a student of the Duchesne School, she was expected to attend a prestigious college. Her mother had attended Harvard, and her father Stanford, but Schuyler had been drawn to the smaller schools—the urban schools—the “flowerpot” Ivies—Brown, Columbia, as well as the “brainiac” schools like the University of Chicago.

In another life, she and Oliver could have been these students, she thought, looking around at the young people. Their only anxieties were over exams and dating.

Getting to Chicago had been easy enough, but Schuyler had no idea what to do once they arrived. She supposed she could have sent Finn Chase a friend request on Facebook and asked to meet up, but it seemed so awkward. What was she supposed to say? “I’m the long-lost daughter of the father who died when you were a baby and before I was born. Sorry to spring it on you like this. Let’s hang out!”

“Are we just going to show up on her doorstep?” Oliver asked.

“I would if I knew where her doorstep was,” Schuyler said. “This place is enormous, though.”

The campus was spread out over several city blocks, and it seemed impossible that they would be able to find her. “Did you check to see if there was an address on Facebook? Any references to what dorm she lives in?” Oliver asked.

“I read every post I could find, but there was nothing about where she lived. On campus, that’s all I know. She’s probably careful not to reveal where; too many stalkers these days.”

“What about finding her after class? What’s she studying?”

Trust Oliver to always come up with something useful. “She’s an art major,” Schuyler told him. “There was something about how Finn had gotten all of her requirements out of the way and could now spend her time doing what she loved.”

“That means most of her classes are probably in the same building,” Oliver pointed out. “If we go there, someone might be able to help us find her. We might even run into her, like the crazy stalkers we are.”

“Such a good idea!” Schuyler checked her phone to see where visual art classes were held. “Looks like most of them are in the Arts Center, on South Greenwood. That’s just a few blocks from here.”

It didn’t take them long to arrive at the squat, rectangular concrete building. “Not very attractive for a building devoted to art,” Oliver sniffed.

“It’s what’s inside that counts,” Schuyler said.

They looked at each other, took deep breaths, and entered the building. Schuyler had been hoping there would be some sort of secretary they could ask right away, but the lobby was empty. They must have come during class time.

“The administrative offices are this way.” Oliver pointed.

The office was buzzing with activity, in contrast to the lobby. Student interns wandered around the suite, making copies and filing paperwork. The receptionist was filing her very long nails when Schuyler approached the desk. “You’re looking for who? Is she expecting you?”

“Not exactly,” Schuyler said.

“And you are…?”

“Her sister.”

“Is there some sort of family emergency?”

Schuyler debated whether to lie, then opted against it. “No, I was just hoping to find her. Is there any chance you could tell me where she is? What classroom she’s in? I’m not looking for her home address or anything like that.” Though I’d take it if you gave it to me, she thought.

“Can’t do that,” the receptionist said. “FERPA violation.”

“FERPA?”

“Privacy. I know your generation doesn’t have much use for it anymore, but it’s still the law.”

“Well, thank you for your help.” Schuyler couldn’t help but let the sarcasm creep into her voice.

The woman gave her a look and then returned to filing her nails.

Schuyler walked out of the office, dejected.

“What about the glom?” Oliver asked. “Just
make
her tell you.”

“I thought about it, but it seemed wrong somehow,” she said. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Excuse me?” a voice said.

They turned around to see a petite girl with dark curly hair standing behind them. “Sorry to be nosy, but I couldn’t help overhearing you in there. You’re looking for Finn Chase?”

“We are,” Schuyler said eagerly.

“You’re her sister? She’s a pretty good friend of mine, and I don’t remember her having any siblings.”

“She doesn’t know about me,” Schuyler admitted. “Actually, I only just found out about her.”

The girl’s dark eyes sparkled. “How exciting and mysterious!” She held out her hand. “I’m Ivy. I totally know her schedule. Can I introduce you guys? Please?”

Is she kidding? Of course she can!
“I’m Schuyler, and this is my friend Oliver. We’d love it if you’d help us out.”

“Awesome,” Ivy said. “Are you two, like, a thing? Are you a potential brother-in-law or something?”

Was she asking out of curiosity, or because she thought Oliver was cute? It didn’t matter, Schuyler figured, as long as she’d help them. And if Oliver needed to flirt to get what they needed, then he’d better get cracking.

“I’m quite single,” he said. “Schuyler’s like a sister to me.”

Schuyler breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps not quite accurate, but it would do the job.

“Class is almost over,” Ivy said. “She’s taking a grad class on Kandinsky. Such an overachiever.” She rolled her eyes.

Well, they had Kandinsky in common, Schuyler thought. Finn’s taste must have been influenced by Decca. And Ben, of course. She remembered that he’d been some sort of artist.

“We’ll catch her on the way out. Come on.”

Oliver and Schuyler followed Ivy down a long corridor to a seminar room. Through a window in the door, Schuyler could see a group of students sitting around a table. They were arguing animatedly, and she felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of Finn as a normal college student, passionate about art, oblivious to the fact that the world might be a horrible and dangerous place, where your love could be ripped away from you.

“Sky? You with us?” Oliver asked.

“Just watching,” she said.

The students began packing up their books and heading toward the door. Schuyler jumped back and wondered why she felt as if she needed to hide. Nervous about meeting her sister, she supposed.

A tall blond girl with her hair in a ponytail, her face framed by a pair of severe black eyeglasses, left the room. Schuyler had expected Finn to look sporty, somehow, from the photos of her on the ski slopes and the tennis courts; and while the girl certainly had an athletic gracefulness about her, she carried herself with a serious mien. Finn Chase, Schuyler realized, was a bit of a nerd. A cool nerd, of course—a hipster with her vintage glasses and the polyester blouse and the bell-bottom jeans—but a nerd nonetheless.

Ivy stood by the door and grabbed Finn’s arm as soon as she exited the room. “I have the craziest thing to tell you,” she said.

Finn rolled her eyes. “Crazier than the time you said your calculus tutor was hitting on you, except he just had a spastic eyelid? Crazier than the time you thought we all had bedbugs because you actually had poison oak from rolling around in the bushes with that random freshman? Crazier than—”

“Okay, I get it, enough already,” Ivy said. “Yes, crazier than all of that. Legit crazy.” She dragged Finn over
to where Schuyler and Oliver were waiting. “Finn, meet Schuyler. Schuyler, this is Finn. Also, this is Oliver. And they’re totally not dating.”

Finn gave Ivy the kind of look Schuyler suspected she’d given her many, many times before, then turned and smiled at Schuyler and Oliver. “Nice to meet you,” she said politely. “What’s this all about?”

“GUESS!” Ivy was bursting with excitement. She practically bounced up and down, trying to drag out the moment. “You’ll never guess!”

Enough already, Schuyler thought, ready to interrupt. Finally, Ivy squealed, “She’s your sister!”

Finn frowned.
Uh-oh.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “I don’t have a sister. Or a brother. Or any siblings. Who are you guys, really?”

“She’s not kidding,” Schuyler said. “I know it sounds crazy, but I actually am your sister. I just found out a few days ago. Ben was my dad too. He was married to my mother but he died before I was born.”

“You’re kidding,” said Finn, shocked.

“She isn’t,” Oliver said. “Not even a little bit.”

“But I thought—and he and my mom never even—are we the same age? I’m so confused.”

“I think you’re maybe two years older than I am,” Schuyler said. “It’s kind of a long story. If you want to hear it.” She still couldn’t tell. Finn was looking at her with such skepticism, and Schuyler was struck by how much she looked exactly like Decca—wary, guarded, reserved—that she was prepared to be dismissed as an opportunistic crackpot.

“Um, hello?” Finn asked. “Of course I want to hear it!” She broke out into a broad smile. The one Schuyler recognized from the photographs of her father on the mantel. Ben Chase’s dazzling, generous, light-filled smile. “Come to my dorm and tell me everything!”