Mimi bumped into Kingsley's shoulder.

"Sorry," she said.

"No worries," he said, smiling at her from behind his dark bangs. She was wrong. Kingsley didn't see her. He didn't know it was her. He gave her the flirtatious grin he gave every pretty girl on the tube.

But the smile turned into a frown. "Hey - "

"Yes?" she asked, holding her breath.

"You dropped this," he said, holding up a postcard with a picture of a chapel.

"No - that's not mine," she said. "Sorry."

"Oh." He stared at her and blinked, staring hard at her now. "Do I know you from somewhere...?"

She smiled nervously, shook her head, and bolted back up the escalator. If Danel knew what she was up to...If Lucifer found out...She pushed through the people and jostling elbows. Danel was waiting for her at the top, talking on his phone.

"Sorry, I feel much better now," she said.

"Yeah, jet lag." He nodded. "You told me." He closed his phone. "So that was your boy."

Kingsley? she almost said. Then realized he meant Jack.

"He's run into a bit of trouble with those monks in Spain. I'm going to have to help him sort it out." He sighed. "He doesn't want to make too much of a mess. It would alert the Blue Bloods as to what we're doing. Keep it quiet, you know."

"Oh, okay."

"You think you can handle Rosslyn on your own?"

"Yeah...I mean...Yeah." She nodded.

"All right, gorgeous. But we've got unfinished business, you and me," Danel said, chucking her chin. Then he was gone.

You're welcome, her twin sent.

Mimi boarded the train to Edinburgh. She only hoped Kingsley would understand the meaning of the postcard.

She wanted nothing more than to fail at this quest.

Chapter Ten

Bliss

liss remembered the days when the Repository had been housed underneath a pair of nightclubs. The Bank had been one of the hottest spots in Manhattan, but now it attracted more of a bridge-and-tunnel crowd. Block 122, next door, was exclusively for Blue Bloods and their guests. Together, they'd provided perfect cover for the building that housed the documents detailing the history of the Blue Bloods. All of their knowledge, all of their secrets.

But the Repository had been relocated, and now it was housed below Force Tower, in a corescraper miles underground.

"A corescraper?" Lawson asked.

"You know, the opposite of a skyscraper," Bliss said. "The human Conduits watch over it. Maybe some of them will know where everybody is. They might also have some information about how we can get back to the underworld - you never know."

Lawson's face brightened, and Bliss felt a little guilty for bringing it up. It wasn't all that likely that the Conduits would be able to help, at least not with the wolves. Vampire knowledge of wolf lore was relatively limited. Oh, well. They'd find out soon enough.

Bliss led Lawson through the front door of Force Tower, to an elevator at the very back of the elevator bank. It was the only one containing a panel that would allow them to travel down instead of up.

"It smells weird in here," Lawson said.

He was right - it smelled musty and unused. The buttons on the panel were dusty. Bliss worried about what they would find when the doors opened.

She had been right to worry, because when they did open, she could see that the Repository had been all but destroyed.

What once had been a beautiful and welcoming library, with luscious leather chairs and rows of old-fashioned carrels, was now essentially a pile of rubble. Ransacked and left to burn. There were still some small fires burning in parts of the room, and everything smelled like smoke. There weren't as many books piled up as Bliss would have imagined, so maybe some of them had been saved.

"I take it this isn't what it usually looks like," Lawson said.

"Not even a little bit. I don't know what happened," she said, struck by a feeling of a deep sadness and nostalgia. They wandered through the library, looking in at the more formal offices of Committee Headquarters, the private reading areas, the rare book rooms. All trashed.

"Whoever they were, they were pretty thorough," said Lawson. Then he stopped and sniffed at the air. "Someone's here."

Bliss whirled around. "Where?" she asked, ready to fight or flee.

"It's human, don't worry," he said.

"Hello?" Bliss shouted. "Anyone here?"

From the recesses of a dark corner of the stacks, a figure emerged. He looked stooped and broken; his overly formal clothing was tattered and smeared with ash.

"Are those velvet pants?" Lawson whispered. "Who is this guy?"

"He's a Conduit," Bliss whispered back. "Sir?" she said out loud. "I believe we've met before, a long time ago. I'm Bliss Llewellyn."

"I know who you are, Miss Llewellyn," the man said, in a voice that Bliss recalled as being haughty but which now sounded frightened. "Renfield," he said.

"What happened here, Renfield?" she asked. "Where is everybody?"

Renfield shook his head. "We Conduits tried to store away as much as we could before going underground with the Coven, and I went back to grab a few more books and saw this."

"What do you mean underground? Where is everybody?"

"Gone. Everyone's gone. There are no vampires left. It's all chaos. The Regent is missing, the conclave has been disbanded."

"That can't be true," Bliss said, tears welling in her eyes. "I've only been gone a year. Things can't have changed that much. It can't all be over."

"I'm sure it's not over," Lawson said, and took her hand. "We'll figure it out."

"There may still be some hope," Renfield said. "A Venator bulletin went out."

"Show us," Bliss urged.

"It came over the wire the other week," he said. "I was disseminating the information to the remaining members of the Coven when I heard you out here. Come to my office."

Bliss and Lawson followed Renfield through the stacks, to a room tucked away in a back corner, where Bliss had never been. The door was beautiful and intricately carved, as were all the doors in the Repository; the fact that the solid wood remained undamaged made Bliss start to feel safe.

Until Renfield opened the door and a demon ripped out his throat.

Chapter Eleven

Schuyler

few minutes later, Schuyler, Oliver, and Tilly were settled into a cozy corner of a small tea shop, which was decorated with traditional, comfortable, grandmother-like touches - chintz couches and damask floral pillows. "So, did Lucas tell you why we wanted to see you?" Schuyler asked, sinking into a plush and decidedly lumpy armchair that Cordelia would never have allowed in her elegant Manhattan town house.

Tilly smiled. "Yes he did. Although, for a moment there, I thought you guys were from Chic. They're supposed to interview me."

Schuyler ignored the comment. "We wanted to talk about what you might know about the Gate of Promise."

The designer sighed. "Oh yes, yes. The Order of the Seven and all those grave responsibilities..."

"Forgive me if this sounds rude, but responsibilities like guarding the Gates of Hell? I would say that is pretty serious," said Schuyler, a bit taken aback by Tilly's irreverence.

Tilly shrugged. "It did seem terribly urgent back then. But you have to understand - you're a new soul, right? Lucas told me about you. The half-blood. Gabrielle's daughter. You don't have the blood memories. You don't know what it's like."

"Tell us, make us understand," Oliver urged.

Tilly fiddled with the rings on her fingers. "In the beginning, the danger was great. Lucifer had been discovered, and the paths had to be guarded or the demons would be unleashed into our world. Lucas and I were assigned to Gabrielle's protection, as was everyone from our old legion. Your mother did what she had to do in London, then we left Lucas behind." She motioned for a second cup of tea. "That's all I remember from that time. Of course, the Crisis in Rome was just the beginning of the trouble. I was with your mother in Florence when..." Her voice faltered and she shivered.

"When?" Schuyler prompted.

Tilly closed her eyes. "When Gabrielle discovered that Lucifer had tricked her. That the Gates of Hell she had built during the founding of Rome were no match for his power."

Schuyler and Oliver exchanged an uneasy glace. "What happened in Florence?"

"Lucifer was vanquished, of course. Michael saw to that, as he always did."

Schuyler looked at her keenly. "You don't seem so sure."

Tilly stirred her tea. "I don't know. I tried to forget about it, it was all so horrible. Anyway, the years went by...centuries upon centuries, and nothing happened...."

"Not nothing...There have been deaths. Young ones taken," Schuyler said. "Even here, in the London Coven."

"Yeah, I guess, but it wasn't like...it wasn't like it was everybody. It was one at a time...." Tilly said, her voice fading a little.

"What are a few souls here and there in the grand scheme of things, right?" Oliver said brusquely.

"I know you think it's terribly awful of us. That we let your mother down somehow, with Lucas going underground and all. But it's not as if evil isn't everywhere. It's all around. We're not the only victims anymore. The Red Bloods...are much more violent and vicious than we ever were."

"Lucas mentioned that you had mortalized...."

"Did he? Such an old goat. 'Mortalized.' I guess I did. I got bored, I suppose...."

"Bored?" Schuyler said coldly.

"Yeah. I don't know, sucking blood and all that...seemed so..." She shuddered. "Well, it's not really good for you, is it? All that protein? I mean, I'm a vegan now...." she said weakly.

A vegan-freaking-vampire. Schuyler decided she had certainly heard it all.

"So you don't...perform the Sacred Kiss?" asked Oliver.

"No. Haven't needed one in centuries. Thought I'd fade away at first, and I did get brutally sick. I remember it was during the eighteenth century sometime, when I thought I would just fade away. But then I recovered, and I haven't touched a drop since."

Tilly hadn't performed the Sacred Kiss in centuries. And neither had Schuyler for at least a year, ever since she'd left Oliver to be with Jack. Come to think of it, when she and Jack had been together, neither of them had taken familiars. She had forgotten the taste of blood and she had survived.

"By the way, we prefer the term 'gone native,'" Tilly said.

"We?" asked Oliver.

"Are there so many of you?" Schuyler asked.

Tilly tapped her finger against her teacup. "Yeah. Tons. It's not something the Repository or the Covens or the Regis ever wanted to accept. But yeah, a lot of us aren't living as vampires anymore. We don't cycle, we don't reincarnate."

"It's just another word for Enmortal, isn't it?" Oliver mused, meaning the vampires who chose not to rest but remain awake for their immortal life.

"Yeah. Maybe. I guess. Except..."

"We get it, no blood, no human familiars. Do you still have fangs even?" Schuyler asked, wondering what had become of her own. She hadn't felt them in so long.

"Yeah, they're still there. Sometimes they pop up, but you learn to control them." Tilly put her coat on. "Anyway, I'm sorry I can't help. Lucas said things are looking bad for the Covens. Everyone's gone underground again. But maybe that's for the best."

"For the best?" Schuyler asked, an edge in her voice.

"Seems unfair, doesn't it? The whole vampire-elite thing? What gave us the right? Maybe the Silver Bloods have a point. Maybe we're useless, in the end. Who needs us?" She nodded. "Thanks for the tea. And for the suggestion on the masks. I'll use them tomorrow."

Chapter Twelve

Tomasia (Florence, 1452)

is breath was sweet in her ear, his lashes soft on her cheek. "I give myself to you and accept you as my own," Gio whispered, his voice low and trembling with emotion.

Tomi clasped her hands around his back and pulled him closer, and said the same words to him. With that vow they were bonded, just as they had been since time eternal.

She pulled him away from the window and into the bedroom. Gio had seen to everything - that morning Tomi had moved her small things to the new home they were to share. It was a palace in Florence, above the Arno. The room was aglow with a hundred tiny candles flickering in the dark. She smiled at him shyly, even as her breath quickened in excitement. He kissed her again, starting from her lips and toward the base of her neck, and she kissed him back, with an urgent passion that rose as they moved ever closer together.