Cordelia had been Schuyler’s legal guardian. Schuyler had never known her parents: her father died before she was born, and her mother had fallen into a coma soon after giving birth to her. For most of Schuyler’s childhood, Cordelia had been aloof and distant, but she was the only family Schuyler had had in the world, and for better or worse, she had loved her grandmother.
“She was sure he would be here,” Schuyler said, disconsolately tossing bread crumbs at the pigeons that had gathered underneath their table. It was something she had been saying ever since they’d arrived in Venice. The Silver Blood attack had left Cordelia weakened, but before her grandmother had succumbed to the passive state (Blue Blood vampires are continually reincarnated immortal beings), she had pressed on Schuyler the need to find her missing grandfather, Lawrence Van Alen, whom she believed held the key to defeating the Silver Bloods. With her last breath, Schuyler’s grandmother had instructed her to travel to Venice, to comb the city’s crooked streets and winding canals for any sign of him.
“But we’ve looked everywhere. No one has ever even heard of a Lawrence Van Alen, or a Dr. John Carver,” Oliver sighed, pointing out that they had made dozens of inquiries at the university, at Harry’s Bar at the Cipriani, and at every hotel, villa, and pensione in between. John Carver had been a name Lawrence had taken during the Plymouth settlement.
“I know. I’m beginning to think he never even existed,” Schuyler replied.
“Maybe she was wrong—too weak and disoriented and confused about where to send you,” Oliver suggested. “This could end up being just a wild-goose chase.”
Schuyler mulled the possibility. Perhaps Cordelia had been wrong, and maybe Charles Force, the leader of the Blue Bloods, was right after all. But the loss of her grandmother had affected her terribly, and Schuyler was nursing a fevered determination to carry out the old woman’s final wish.
“I can’t think like that, Ollie. If I do, then I’ve given up. I have to find him. I have to find my grandfather. It hurts too much to think about what Charles Force said. . . .”
“What did he say?” Oliver asked. Schuyler had mentioned a conversation she’d had with Charles before they had left, but had kept the details vague.
“He said . . .” Schuyler closed her eyes and remembered the tension-filled encounter.
She had gone to visit her mother in the hospital. Allegra Van Alen was as beautiful and remote as ever, a woman who lingered between life and death. She had slipped into a catatonic state shortly after Schuyler was born. Schuyler had not been surprised to find a fellow visitor at her mother’s bedside.
Charles Force was kneeling by the bed, but he stood up quickly and wiped his eyes when he saw Schuyler.
Schuyler felt a stab of pity for the man. Just a month ago, she had believed him to be the personification of evil, had even accused him of being a Silver Blood. How off the mark she had been.
Charles Force was Michael, Pure of Heart, one of the archangels who had voluntarily chosen exile from Heaven to help his brethren who had been cast out during Lucifer’s revolt and cursed to live their lives on earth as the Blue Bloods. He was a vampire only by choice, not sin. Her mother, Allegra Van Alen, was the only other vampire who shared this distinction. Allegra was Gabrielle, the Uncorrupted, the Virtuous. Michael and Gabrielle had a long and entangled history. They were vampire twins, blood-bound to each other, and had been born brother and sister in this cycle.
The bond was an immortal vow between Blue Bloods, but Gabrielle had forsaken the vow when she had taken Schuyler’s Red Blood father, her human familiar, as husband instead.
“Do you know why your mother is in a coma? Or chooses to be in a coma?” Charles had asked.
Schuyler nodded. “She swore never to take another human familiar after my father died. Cordelia said it was because she wanted to die herself.”
“But she cannot. She is a vampire. So she lives,” Charles said bitterly. “If this is what you call living.”
“It is her choice,” Schuyler said, her voice even. She did not like the judgment inherent in Charles’s words.
“Choice,” Charles cursed. “A romantic notion, but nothing more.” He turned to Schuyler. “I hear you are going to Venice.”
Schuyler nodded. “We leave tomorrow. To find my grandfather,” she declared. It is said that the daughter of Gabrielle will bring us to the salvation we seek, her grandmother had told her. Only your grandfather knows how to defeat the Silver Bloods. He will help you.