The Gates of Paradise (8 page)

nce in a while, Schuyler missed him so much it was hard to put into words. She’d only known him for such a short time before he was taken from her. Nevertheless, he was always on her mind. Lawrence Van Alen. Her grandfather. The vampire who had taught her the four factors of the glom, who taught her about her legacy, who prepared her for her task.

It was amazing how much Peter Pendragon reminded her of Lawrence. Something in the haughty way he greeted her, his aristocratic mien and aloof manner. As Oliver explained, the Knights Templar was a splinter group of Venators, devoted to protecting the holy relics. But as time passed, their importance to the Covens had diminished and their ranks thinned. Peter Pendragon was one of the last remaining members.

They met him in his study at Marlborough Farm, a sprawling estate a few hours away from the city. The grand old manor had seen better days, most of its windows shuttered, dust motes flying in the air, furniture covered in sheets of fabric. The house was a beautiful ruin, like many historical homes in England that were too expensive for the upkeep, left to linger and decay. Perhaps that was why Schuyler felt at home in the shrouded, dark manor—it reminded her of her own home in New York City. She had been a child among phantoms, surrounded by memories of a better time, living in a dark, secluded place, with only her formidable grandmother as a companion.

She felt that watchful presence again; it came and went, and while it was troubling to feel as if she were being observed, there wasn’t much she could do about it. For now, whoever or whatever it was seemed to be benign enough.

“So you are Allegra’s daughter,” Peter said, looking Schuyler up and down. “And you have come to London to unlock the secret of the Gate of Promise.”

“Yes. Tilly St. James sent us. She said you were part of Gabrielle’s old team, just like her and Lucas Mendrion.”

“I was,” he said. “Come, sit down. Will you have tea?”

Schuyler declined politely, feeling as if the world were on a knife’s edge, and all she was doing was drinking champagne and sipping tea while her love was lost and Rome burned.

“Nice spread,” Oliver said, admiring the furnishings. Schuyler nudged him with her elbow, annoyed.

“What?” he asked. Kingsley’s cockiness was wearing off on him.

Pendragon turned to Schuyler. “I know Mendrion and the rest of the Coven are going underground. But I will stay here and make my stand. Besides, I heard through the Venators that something is happening in London soon. Your arrival is fortuitous, I think. Gabrielle’s daughter. That I am alive in this cycle to meet you is a wonder.

“I was assigned to Gabrielle when Dantos died in Florence in the fifteenth century, during that ugly mess. I had a shorter run than they did, since I left your mother’s service to join the Knights Templar.”

“Why did you leave?” Schuyler asked.

“It was Gabrielle’s idea, actually. She said I could serve her better as a knight.” He smiled. “I tried not to take it too personally. I liked working for your mother.”

“Can you help us?”

“Maybe.” He nodded. “Tell me what you know.”

“Catherine of Sienna told us that the Gate of Promise will only unlock with the key of the twins,” Schuyler said. “Do you know what that means?”

“The key of the twins is the
sangreal
. The holy blood,” he said, shifting in his chair.

“Holy blood,” Schuyler echoed.

“Another name for it is the Blood of the Father.”

“The Holy Grail?” Oliver guessed.

“No. The grail is the cup of Christ. There’s some mishmash about it being a person, but that’s not true; just some popular rumor, another false concept we released to the Red Bloods to keep the grails safe.” He shrugged.

“There is more than one?” asked Schuyler.

“Well, of course; you do not drink from only one cup,
do you?” he said. “They are hidden all over the world. Once upon a time, there were enough of us to guard each one, but no more,” he sighed, just as his butler entered the room and whispered in his ear.

“Excuse me,” he told them, struggling to stand with the help of his cane. “It seems there is a disturbance at one
of the grail sites and I must take my leave. Please forgive me. We must continue this charming conversation another time.”

“Is it serious?” Schuyler asked, looking worried.

“I’m sure the nuns are just jumpy. Do not worry. The grails are well hidden. A very old and very deep magic keeps them safe from harm.”

“Just like the gates,” Schuyler said.

Pendragon nodded, appraising her with approval. “The holy blood is about lineage, about ancestry.” The old knight looked at Schuyler. “Do you know who your father is?”

Back in the cab on the way to the town house, Schuyler mulled over Pendragon’s words and her own history. She was the
Dimidium Cognatus
. The half-blood. The only child of vampire and human lineage. “The Blood of the Father…Do you think?” she asked Oliver. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Your father is still alive,” Oliver said. “That’s what your mother wanted you to know.”

“Alive? It can’t be.”

“What did your grandmother say? What did Cordelia say about him?”

“She always made it clear he was dead, and that’s why Allegra was in a coma, because my mother wouldn’t take another familiar after he passed. I got the feeling Cordelia hated my father’s family. She never spoke of them, especially him. She couldn’t stand it that Allegra had married a Red Blood. I never knew much about him.” Schuyler fiddled with the latch on her bag. “I mean, I don’t even carry his name,” she said softly. She remembered all those lonely afternoons by Allegra’s bedside, and the time she had come upon a stranger kneeling by her mother’s bed, and how her heart had raced at the possibility that her father had returned. But the stranger had turned out to be Charles Force. The vampire Allegra had spurned to bond with her human familiar.

Oliver squeezed her hand in sympathy. “That was your grandmother’s fault, not yours.”

“Do you really think my dad is still alive?” she asked. “But there’s no way that’s true. My mom was in a coma out of grief, remember?” But then again, Allegra had so many secrets, it was hard to know what was true and what wasn’t, and Schuyler told that to Oliver as well.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out. What do you know of your father’s family?”

“They owned some big company a long time ago; my father was named after it. Bendix Corporations, I think. But they sold it.”

Oliver tapped the information into his phone. “Says here Bendix is now headquartered in Los Angeles, but that the family still retains a percentage of ownership, and sits on the board. I can get us on a flight tonight if you want.”

“Let’s do it,” Schuyler said. Her father was alive? No. It was impossible. She didn’t know much about her father, but she knew he was gone. If he was alive, why hadn’t he ever tried to come see her? How could someone just let their child grow up without ever once trying to contact them? She had grown up missing both her parents, a mother and father she never knew. She was a product of their great love for each other, and yet their legacy to their only child was a deep and abiding loneliness. She had been alone for so many years.

Not alone: she always had Oliver, she realized. Her human Conduit, her faithful companion. He was with her now.

Mother, where are you sending me?
she wondered.

t was dim inside the enchanted chapel, the windows black, as if the world extended no further than the space inside it. Mimi was trapped in an insulated world, in Limbo, in the nothingness of the abyss.

“I knew it was you at the station,” Kingsley said. “Don’t tell me you’re with that jerk. What happened to that brother of yours?”

Mimi tossed her hair back haughtily. “We work for Lucifer now.”

“Yeah, right.” Kingsley laughed.

“He wants the grail to make godsfire, and we mean to give it to him.”

“The Mimi I knew—”

“The Mimi you knew is gone,” she said. “I told you to forget about me, and it looks like you took my advice to heart.”

“Jealous, were you?” he asked. “Now I know you’re lying about your feelings for me.”

In reply, she drew out her sword and faced him.

He did the same, brandishing his weapon. “Do you really mean to fight me for it?” He tipped his sword against hers, and a dull ring echoed around the room. He took two steps backward, the grail in one hand, his blade in the other. “All right, then, who am I to stand in your way. You always were a good sparring partner.”

Make it look real,
she thought.
I’ve got to make him believe I
have gone to the Dark, to keep him safe. Otherwise…

She swung first, and he met her thrust with the edge of his sword, bashing her blade against a stone pillar. The shock reverberated through the steel, rattling her grip. She nearly lost the weapon, but quickly recovered. Kingsley took a step back.

Mimi advanced, crossing her blade against his, then quickly recovering to jab at his chest. Rather than meet her second blow with his sword, he swung with the grail, and she nearly dropped her weapon once more.

“Careful now, you might destroy what you want to take from me.”

Mimi smiled. “No chance of that.” She held her sword low, scraping it against the hard stone pillar as she brought it up fast toward his left hand. She turned the blade sideways, as he had first done, and struck at the back side of his hand. The blow sent the cup flailing from his grip, and it fell to the ground with a clang.

Kingsley took a leap forward, but rather than striking Mimi, he kicked the grail with the back side of his foot, sending the old cup rolling behind him.

For a moment he was defenseless, and Mimi drew her sword across his chest. Her steel met flesh, drawing a bloody line across his midsection. Kingsley grunted in pain, and she felt the ache in her chest as well, at the thought of hurting him. But her face remained impassive.

She lunged for the grail, but Kingsley kept himself between her and the cup, circling her as they danced around each other.

They were now in the center of the nave. The elaborate stone carvings that were worn flat in the real church appeared newly carved and shining in the otherworldly extension. But Mimi stopped admiring her surroundings when Kingsley’s sword nipped her shoulder, cutting through her coat.

“Ouch!” she said, annoyed.

“Tit for tat.” Kingsley smiled and motioned to the gash on his chest. “Come on now, let’s stop this. I haven’t seen you in months and this is how you greet me? I’ll say it. I’ve missed you. What happened to you? Why did you disappear like that? Why did you tell me to leave you alone? Explain what happened—I can help.…”

He knows. He knows I don’t want to hurt him.
She could have cut him deeply on the first strike, but she’d only caused a surface wound. He’d treated her shoulder in similar fashion. He wanted to know how far she would take this charade, how badly she was willing to wound him to recover the
grail.

And it was all because she had told him the truth before she’d left.
Remember that I love you, no matter what happens.

It was her own words that were keeping him from buying her act. If only she could take them back. It was too dangerous for him to know the truth.

“I will take the grail, or I will die trying,” she said. “You’ll have to kill me for it.”

“Fine,” Kingsley said. He advanced on her side, swinging his sword in a wide arc, and, knowing his reach would exceed hers, slashed against her torso.

Mimi hissed in pain, but before she could parry, he had cut her again above the knee. She staggered backward, trying to catch her breath. She would heal, but for now the pain was agonizing. He’s toying with me, she realized, as he cut her again, and this time the blade grazed her wrist in a thin line. Kingsley was wearing her down, cutting her with a thousand nips and scrapes. He didn’t want to kill her, but he would chip away at her defenses until she crumbled. Another cut grazed her ear, and this time she couldn’t restrain from letting out a sharp cry of pain.

Kingsley seemed taken aback. “Are you hurt? Truly?”

Mimi saw her opportunity and reached for the chalice, taking it in her hand and raising it in triumph. The moment she touched it, the chapel disappeared around them. The protective spell had dissipated.

They were standing outside the Rosslyn Chapel now, in the early evening.

“You can’t hurt me,” Mimi said, as she raised her weapon, her eyes blazing. “You were always a weakling. See how easy it was to take this from you? Lucifer would laugh to see you.”
Make him believe it, make him hate you.
She advanced toward him and lunged for his heart.

But rather than parry, Kingsley grabbed her blade and wrapped his hand around the steel, letting it cut into his palm. With all his strength, he pulled Mimi’s sword away from her so it fell to the ground, and she was forced to drop her hold on the chalice as well. He picked up the grail with his blood-soaked hand, and with the other he raised his sword toward her brow.

“Now tell me the truth,” he said. “Why are you doing this?”

She cringed from him. “I told you why.”

“I know you still love me.” He smiled. “I can see it in your face.”

Mimi sneered. “We are with Lucifer now; we have always been false.”

“I don’t believe it for one second,” Kingsley whispered, looking into her eyes tenderly.

“Then you are a fool,” she said. She wanted to throw herself upon him, to bring her face to his, to kiss his lips and hold him in her arms, to brush his dark hair out of his
eyes.

But instead she disappeared into smoke and air.

Her work was done. The grail was safe in the hands of the Venator she trusted most. She only hoped Jack had been as unsuccessful.