Misguided Angel (14 page)

"How do you know she's here?"

"We don't. We're just guessing." Oliver pressed the elevator button for the top floor. "I know the Venators are concentrating on those subliminal images, but I thought maybe we should take a closer look at the main video itself. I watched it frame by frame and found something in the shadows. I had tech magnify part of the screen."

He showed her the image on his phone.

"What am I looking at here, exactly?" Mimi asked. It looked like a bunch of squiggles and nothing to get excited about. Certainly not enough to clear an entire hotel lobby and disrupt an evening at the prestigious hotel. Wendel Randolph, the Blue Blood tycoon who owned the Carlyle, was surely going to get annoyed. Mimi saw that she had several messages from him already.

"That's from the wal paper behind her head. The shine from the Venator rope il uminates it a bit. It's cal ed Cabbage and Vine. It's a famous Wil iam Morris design, which went out of production in the 1880s. But when this hotel was built in the 1930s, they had the same textile factory produce it for the hotel. After the renovation last year, only a few rooms kept the original wal paper. We've already checked the other two. This is the last one."

"We're here because of wal paper?" Mimi asked. "You guys cleared an entire hotel--used a massive compulsion on al those Red Bloods--because of some wal paper?" She tried not to sound too incredulous.

"It's al we've got," Oliver said apologetical y. "You said no one dies on your watch. We have to try everything, don't we?"

The elevator door opened, and Mimi saw Sam and Ted take position in front of a door to the suite. The rest of the team were arranged in the hal way.

"We have a green?" Ted asked.

Mimi didn't know what to say. At this point they had acted without consulting her, so why adhere to protocol now? It was too late to back out. Maybe it was just courtesy since she had arrived on the scene. It was better than Helen Archibald's rudeness. She would humor her Venators. "Affirmative." She nodded. "Go."

The strike force burst into the room, swarming into the space, setting off glom bombs, their swords held aloft and gleaming.

There was a girl tied up in a chair.

Alas, it was not Victoria.

They had surprised the actor, a movie star, who'd returned the night before with his new girlfriend. At the sight of the black-clad, armored Venators, he dropped a magnum of champagne and fainted.

TWENTY-THREE

The Pub

After the failure and embarrassment of the Carlyle raid--which Mimi placed directly on Oliver's shoulders to stave off criticism of her Venators--she met the Lennox brothers at their usual pub the next evening. The night was black, and in less than twenty-four hours the crescent moon would appear in the sky.

They were almost out of time. She knew the boys wouldn't appreciate what she was about to tel them, but she had no choice. She was Regent now; it was her cal . She was not about to lose one of their own. She hoped they had good news for her.

The pub had been a speakeasy during the Prohibition, when the Blue Bloods were the only purveyors of alcohol in the city. The place stil had its original double doors, the keyhole to peek out, sawdust on the floor, knotted pine benches scarred with the names of friends and enemies.

Venators of al stripes--jol y veterans with worn faces and cigarettes hanging from their bottom lips, and slim new recruits straight out of Langley (the CIA had been founded by a Venator; the original Blue Bloods training center was located in the same area) jostled at tables next to the odd NYU students who'd wandered in and had no idea they were surrounded by the vampire secret police. There was a pool table and dartboard, and a chalkboard behind the bar for recording rounds.

Mimi found Sam sitting in the back booth surrounded by empties, and took a seat across from him. "It's my shout," Ted announced, bringing back three pints of dark bitter ale topped with a gold lager. Black and Tans they cal ed them. Mimi didn't usual y like the taste of beer--she preferred martinis or wine--but she also did not feel like making a fuss. She took a sip. Not too bad, real y. Not as tangy as blood--she remembered the taste of Kingsley's blood: sweet and sharp. Her throat constricted and her eyes watered, and for a moment she felt as if she would lose it. But she held herself together.

"First off, take it easy on that Conduit. Hazard-Perry means wel ," Sam said. "It was as good a guess as any. The kid hasn't slept in days. He works harder than anybody."

"Maybe, but that pompous windbag Wendel Randolph wants my seat for 'abuse of the police force.' He said he's going to cal a White Vote at the next meeting."

"He won't. He's al bluster," Ted said with a dismissive wave. "You're al they've got and they know it."

"Maybe. Look guys, this is hard for me to say." Mimi took a deep breath. "I know we've al worked real y hard this last week, and I appreciate al your efforts, but I have no choice: if we don't find her by tomorrow night, I'm taking the wards off the Coven. I don't want to, but it's my only option. I can't have her burn, not online, not anywhere. At least with the wards down we'l know exactly where she is and we'l be able to get her out."

The Venators took the news with sober faces. "That's a huge risk. You know we'd be sitting ducks if the Silver Bloods pul ed a stunt at the same time," Ted warned.

"I know the risks." Mimi put her hands in the air. "But do I have a choice?"

"Charles would never al ow it," Sam pointed out. "Not even during the slayings," he said, meaning the two years prior when several teenage Blue Bloods were drained.

"Charles let six immortals die," Mimi replied. "And Lawrence lost almost the entire Conclave in Rio. No. I've made up my mind. If we don't find her before midnight, I'm doing it."

Sam pushed back on his chair and put his hands behind his head. Every year of his Enmortal life showed in the creases on his face. "But don't you have got get the ful Conclave approval for that sort of thing?"

"Not in a time of war. Not with the Regis Doctrine," said Mimi, a bit smugly. How's that for looking up the Code, she thought. "And gentlemen, if it wasn't clear before, let me make it so. This is a war we're fighting. I'm not going to let security get mired up in useless bureaucratic motions."

Ted exchanged a look with his brother, and Sam shrugged. "Al right then, like you said, it's your cal , ma'am. But give us until the last minute before you pul the trigger. We've got someone working on a counter to that masking spel . We'l find her. The last time the Regis took the wards off, you remember what happened."

Mimi actual y didn't, but she wasn't about to admit that to them, especial y after she had already announced her decision. Plus, where did he get off cal ing her ma'am? "Al right. But not one minute more."

"We wanted to show you something too," Sam said. "We got Renfield's notes back. What is wrong with that guy, by the way?"

"He's watched too many movies made by the Conspiracy." Mimi smirked. "Next thing you know he's going to start smel ing like roses."

Sam snorted. "He came up with a doozy. Remember those three things we saw on the video?" He began to draw on a cocktail napkin. "Copulating animals. Ram's head. Snake." He tapped the drawing with his pen.

"Uh-huh."

"The scribes found something in the archives--take a look." Sam slid a book across the table. It was an old Repository tome, probably from the 1500s, Mimi guessed, due to the Vitruvian silhouette on the spine. She could smel the dust on it.

Ted opened the book and pointed to an il ustration on the left-hand page. It was a symbol divided into three parts. The first showed two interlocking circles, and the second, an animal on four legs. The third symbol was a sword piercing a star.

"Lucifer's sigil," Mimi sighed, pushing the book away. "So this is the Silver Bloods' work after al . Of course."

"Not exactly," Sam said. "It's actual y the second symbol that worries us."

"What is it?" Mimi squinted at the image. It looked like a furry little creature of some kind. . . . Like a . . . "It's a lamb, isn't it?"

"Yes."

They didn't have to say anything more. Mimi knew her history as wel as they. So that's what the three images on the video meant. They corresponded to the symbols on the triglyph: the mating animals stood for union, the ram's head for the sheep, and the snake was yet another symbol for Lucifer. The lamb symbolized humanity. The Red Bloods. A human flock. With Lucifer at its lead. The symbol for union joining the two, lashing them together.

The Silver Bloods were in cahoots with . . . humans? She felt sick. It didn't make sense. Nothing did.

TWENTY-FOUR

The Vanity of Mrs. Armstrong Flood

On Sunday afternoon, Mimi met Oliver at Duchesne. "Are you absolutely certain this is the place this time?" she asked, as they ran up the darkened back stairway.

They had so little time left before the crescent moon rose. This was a farce; she did not even know why she had al owed herself to be talked into this.

But if there was a chance to save Victoria without taking down the wards . . . they had to hurry.

When they had arrived at the school, Mimi quickly got them in without setting off any alarms. As Regent, she had the keys and codes to al the Blue Blood strongholds. The dark, empty building had struck her as surprisingly melancholy. She had never been in the school during the off-hours and was surprised to find how quiet and hol ow it seemed without its students. She had always thought of Duchesne as a lively place, and now understood that its heart lay in its student body. Without them, the school was just an empty vessel, a stage set.

"I can't have another Carlyle on my hands. Wendel Randolph wants my head on a platter for disrupting his hotel. We had to do a huge memory wipe on al those Red Bloods. Messy. I think the actor wants to sue. He got a scratch on his forehead. His face is insured, you know."

"Actors," Oliver said, as if it were a curse word. "Just get one of the Conspiracy members to give him a part in their new film. I figured we should try everything before you had to take the wards down." He looked out the window at the sky, where the moon was stil hidden. "We've got, what . . . fifteen minutes?" he asked, huffing as he led the way.

"Just about." They were cutting it close, but Mimi had promised the Lennox boys they would have every minute until the crescent moon rose, and they had asked her to meet Oliver and give them this one last chance.

It would take an instant to cal off the wards. Al she had to do was say the words and they would see Victoria immediately. She had made her decision, but now that the time to act was coming upon her, she was starting to have doubts. Should she risk the safety of the entire Coven for the life of one vampire? Charles had never done so, and neither had Lawrence when he was Regis. Why on earth was she Regent? She wasn't ready to make these kinds of decisions! She might be centuries old in blood, but in this cycle she was only seventeen.

Oliver caught his breath for a moment. "Anyway, in answer to your question, we're here because it's one of the places Victoria could be. Sam and Ted are already at the other."

"Other?"

He nodded. "I'l explain in a bit. Remember the Carlyle pattern?"

"Are we back to wal paper again?" Mimi snapped.

"Hear me out. The pattern on the wal paper was produced by Wil iam Morris in 1880. Its reprint was exclusive to the Carlyle Hotel. No one else in the world is supposed to have that wal paper. But it kept bothering me--why did that pattern look so familiar? I thought I'd seen it before, and not just at the Carlyle."

"Okay."

"Then I did some digging up on the history of the hotel. Did you know it was owned by the Floods? The same family who gave their mansion to the Duchesne School. Mrs. Flood--Rose--was a leading tastemaker back in the day. It wasn't unreasonable to assume she had picked out that wal paper personal y. It took a lot of trouble to reproduce it--they practical y had to buy the factory that did it. And so it got me thinking--if she loved it so much--maybe

. . ."

"She put it in her bedroom," Mimi finished. "Victoria's in the attic, then? Al this time?"

"That's my guess. Or in their Newport mansion, which is where the boys are. It's a museum now, so I thought it was best if we took this place and sent them there. That way you don't have to answer to the Preservation Society of Newport if things get messy, like they did the other day."

"Good thinking, but you know if you're wrong, I'm having your memory wiped and you'l never work for us again."

"Promise?"

Mimi and Oliver flew up the stairs to Mrs. Flood's bedroom. The top-floor classrooms had been abandoned several years ago, after too many of the Red Blood students swore they had seen or heard ghosts. Sil y humans, there was no such thing as ghosts! Only apparitions set off by vampires fooling around in the glom. But in order to appease the human population, the area had been sealed off by the administration. It did make for a good place to hide someone, since the distraction spel kept the area clear of humans while the vampires chalked up any strange activity as consequence to the spel .

But to think that al along, Victoria had been here--just underneath their noses--was almost insulting. It was if whoever had done this was taunting them.

Mimi pressed her ear against the door. She could hear something--a terrible grunting noise and a shuffling. She pushed against the door. It was held by a massive blocking spel . Crap. Spel casting and unmaking were not her areas of expertise, aside from that one time when she had dabbled in the Dark Arts.

"Try an exploder," Oliver suggested.

"I am," Mimi said, annoyed that she hadn't thought of it earlier. She focused on the doorknob and visualized it disintegrating into nothingness, blasting open, and al owing her inside.

The doorknob shook and shivered but the door remained locked. The terrible grunting noise grew louder, accompanied by a fearful, low moaning.