The Gates of Paradise (13 page)

awson and his pack were waiting for Bliss outside the airport in Rome when she arrived. It felt like forever since she’d seen them, but it had only been a couple of days. She supposed her sense of time was all screwed up because of losing a year. It felt strange to see them all here, in this city, where they’d been so recently and yet such a long time ago. The Rome they had left was the city at its first breath, but the Rome they were in now was a sprawling and crowded metropolis, ancient ruins among medieval and Renaissance structures, a hodgepodge of architecture and industry, the Eternal City and a thoroughly modern one.

Bliss noticed that when Lawson saw her, his eyes lit up, but he kept his cool. She kept her feelings in check as well, even though she couldn’t help but hold him just a little tighter when they hugged hello.

“So what’s the plan?” she asked.

The boys looked at each other, then at the ground. Ahramin smirked. Bliss had the urge to slap her, but then again, she always had the urge to slap her, even after everything that had happened.

“No plan. Right. Okay, then at least tell me what Arthur said.”

“He told us there was a rupture in the timeline, that something had happened that wasn’t supposed to, and now there were two versions of the timeline. That’s what closed the passages,” Lawson said. “We have to figure out what it was and then find a way to open the passages up. Then we can go back to the underworld for the wolves.”

“Did he give you any sense of how we should go about doing that?” she asked.

“Apparently we need your help,” Ahramin said. “Even though we were doing just fine on our own.”

“We know the break in the timeline happened here,” Lawson said. “But we don’t know when or how. Just that it was sometime after when we were here, during the height
of the Roman Empire, during Caligula’s reign, when they first discovered the Paths of the Dead and established the first Gate of Hell. Arthur thought you might be able to help us with your memories. That maybe we can find the path that way.”

“My mother’s memories? Or my father’s?”

“Either one,” Lawson said, looking uncomfortable. Her father was still a touchy subject.

“Okay, so maybe we’ll start digging into what we know about Caligula—if there are certain monuments in the city that he built, or that are associated with him. Maybe we can start there and see where it leads. The Paths of the Dead are hidden in the glom, but they begin with a physical location here in mid-world.” Bliss looked at the pack. They were all still exhausted from having traveled back in time and fought a great battle; and she was feeling just as fatigued. “But first, let’s all get some sleep. I bet none of you slept on the
plane.”

“I did.” Malcolm smiled.

“All right, where are we staying?”

The boys looked at each other again.

“You haven’t figured out anything, have you?” Bliss said, but she tried to say it gently. Lawson looked uncomfortable; she knew he felt embarrassed at how unprepared they were. “We could stay at the St. Regis,” she said. “I stayed there last time I was here.”

“No. Nothing fancy,” Lawson said. “That’s not our style.”

“Okay. There are lots of youth hostels around here—I’m sure we can find someplace where we can all stay together.”

They took the train from the airport and found a cheap place downtown that looked clean. Since it was winter, and past the season for winter break travel, they managed to get a dorm room all to themselves.

“We all have to stay in one room?” Ahramin said, curling her lip.

“At least there’s no one else here,” Rafe said. “Come on, it will be fun. Like being back in the den.”

The hostel was sparsely furnished but cozy. Downstairs, where they’d checked in, was a small common area with scratchy wool sofas and a shelf full of magazines and books that other travelers had left behind. They definitely weren’t catering just to Americans, Bliss noted, seeing just about every language she recognized and a whole bunch she didn’t. That was probably a good thing, and why the place was so inexpensive. There was also a kitchen where they could make sandwiches—nothing hot, but there was bread and condiments and some cheese in the refrigerator, along with bottles of juice. So depressing to be eating a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich in Italy, but Bliss was sure there would be time for a good meal once they’d figured out what they were doing.

Upstairs were several dormitory-style rooms, with eight beds in each. Bliss quickly staked out one of the beds closest to the door. If she’d learned anything these past few years, it was the importance of being able to make a quick exit. Apparently, Lawson was on the same page, because he did the same thing.

Malcolm took the bed closest to the window, so he could leave it open in case he started to feel sick. It was always possible that the break in time had something to do with the Hellhounds, and there was a slim chance that Malcolm would be able to catch the scent.

Bliss watched Ahramin walk up and down the row of beds, trying to decide where she wanted to stake her claim. Sure enough, she took the bed right next to Lawson. Edon looked irritated, but he didn’t say anything.

What was going on here? Bliss was confused. Ahramin had been instrumental in their victory over Romulus. The former Hellhound had fought against her collar and lived. Ahramin and Edon had seemed happy enough to be back together again. Had something happened since then? How could it, since Bliss had been present nearly the whole time? Was it something else? Something that had happened back when they were still in the underworld, maybe?

“Guess I’m back here with Mac,” Rafe said, throwing his bag on the cot closest to the window.

Edon looked as if he were going to protest, but then put his things down between Rafe and Ahri. “Are we sure they aren’t going to put more people in here?”

“They promised,” Bliss said. “No guarantees on the bathrooms, though. They’re unisex and only one person can go in at a time. And I hate to say it, but they’re totally
gross.”

It was true. She’d been fooled by the cleanliness of the rest of the hostel; the bathrooms were tiny and infested with mold and mildew. She was barely going to be able to make herself shower, and she’d only go in if she had to.

The problem was, where was she supposed to change?

As if to answer her question, Ahramin started stripping off her clothes. “Guess we won’t be keeping any secrets from each other,” she said lazily, standing in the middle of the room in only her bra and underwear. Bliss was annoyed until she noticed the scars that remained on the girl’s neck, and reminded herself that Ahri hadn’t had it
easy.

Bliss put on her pajamas as discreetly as possible. No need to make a spectacle of herself, as Ahramin had. Pajama top over regular top, regular top removed through the neck hole of the pajama top, bra removed through the sleeves of the pajama top. Piece of cake. Just the pants left, and who cared if she showed her legs?

She looked up to see Lawson stifling, and then failing to stifle, a laugh. “What?” she asked.

“You,” he said. “That. I thought you were going to sprain something in there.”

“Shush,” she said, laughing as well. She smacked him on his bare chest with her balled-up top.

He grabbed it from her and pulled her close. “Hey,” he said. “I missed you.”

She snuggled into his arms, forgetting where they were for a moment.

“Get a room!” Malcolm yelled.

“We did!” Lawson yelled back, but he let Bliss go and she sighed.

“Good night,” he whispered when they were tucked into their respective beds. He stretched his hand so that their fingertips were touching.

“Good night,” she said, knowing it would be difficult to sleep so close and yet so far from him.

xcuse me?” Schuyler asked. “Cordelia told you what?”

Decca shook her head. “I’m sorry—we didn’t know. If we had known you existed, we would never have kept away. What you must think of us!”

How could Cordelia have done this to me? Schuyler wondered. How could she have cut me off from my father’s family so completely? What was she thinking? But then again, given what Allegra had done, wasn’t Cordelia merely acting in the Coven’s best interests? From her point of view, she was cleaning up her daughter’s mess by severing all ties to Allegra’s human mistake.

Decca reached over to the tray on the coffee table and poured two glasses of iced tea. Then, to Schuyler’s surprise, she burst into tears. “I knew something was strange. She’d told us not to bother with Allegra’s funeral. We didn’t even know where to send flowers, and there was no announcement or anything. I should have tried harder to get to the truth. I always thought she was hiding something from me. So your mother was Allegra—of course, I saw it the moment you walked in the room, and you look so much like your father.…You—”

“Have his eyes.” Schuyler smiled.

“Yes.” Her grandmother nodded. “I’m so happy!” Decca suddenly cried out, and clasped Schuyler’s hand.

That did it—Schuyler started crying too. And she’d been so adamant that she wouldn’t. “Me too,” she sniffled.

They spent a quiet moment holding hands and crying, and then Decca straightened her back, shook her head, and composed herself. “Your mother made him so happy. They loved each other so much.”

Schuyler nodded. She hadn’t quite managed to stop crying yet, but she took a sip of iced tea and tried to hold it together.

“After the wedding, they lived in Napa for a while, but Allegra missed New York. They moved to the city and disappeared shortly afterward, and we didn’t hear from them for a long time. I tried getting in touch—I called your mother, your grandmother, I wrote letters, but nothing. It wasn’t like Ben, but we respected his privacy. Your mother had always been…
different
, but perhaps I was too cautious, too willing to step aside, and then it was too late.”

Schuyler wondered if Decca could tell that she was “different” too. Most likely. She had the sense that not much got by this new grandmother of hers. The vampires must have had to work overtime to keep her from figuring out what was going on. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said. “I’m here now, and we’re finally meeting each other.”

“Yes, it’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Decca beamed. “I want you to tell me all about yourself. We have so much catching up to do! Are you in school now? Is there a young man in your life? Tell me everything!”

Tell her everything? That was impossible. But she could edit, she supposed. She told Decca about growing up with Cordelia, living on the Upper West Side, and going to Duchesne. She told her about her brief stint modeling, how she hadn’t figured out what she wanted to do with her life yet (not exactly true, but at least it explained why she wasn’t going to college). And then she took a deep breath and told her about Jack.

How to explain Jack?

“There was someone in my life,” she said. “I was in love. It was hard—there were challenges for us, being together—but it was wonderful.”

“You’re using the past tense,” Decca said. “What happened?”

“I’m still not entirely sure,” Schuyler said. “All I know is that he’s gone, and I don’t think he’s ever coming back.”

“I lost my husband too,” Decca said, reaching out to again clasp Schuyler’s hand. “I understand that feeling of loss, that sense that a part of you has been physically taken away. That you’re diminished, less than you once were.”

“That’s exactly it,” Schuyler said. “There’s something missing in me now, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get it back.”

“You’re young,” Decca said. “I know that’s what people say, and it seems impossible now, but your heart will mend, and perhaps in the future…”

But Schuyler wasn’t ready to think about what her life could be like after Jack. And she had far more important concerns than herself; although the thought of Jack really and truly being gone forever was too much, and she found herself starting to cry again. Get it together, she thought.

“I can see that it’s too soon for you to think about it,” Decca said. “I understand—even at my age I have friends who try to arrange dates for me. I don’t have the heart to tell them I’m not ready and I may never be, though it’s been years.”

“But you have other family,” Schuyler said. “Your granddaughter…”

“Yes, Finn!” Decca brightened. “You really must meet her. She’ll be so thrilled to hear that she has a sister.”

Schuyler hoped that would turn out to be true, but she could easily imagine a reality in which it wasn’t.

“Do you have other children?” Schuyler asked.

“No, I’m afraid Bendix was our only child,” Decca said. “Of course we tried, for years and years, but we didn’t have all the marvelous technological advances you young people have these days. If you couldn’t manage it naturally, there was only so much the doctors could do.

“It’s a blessing that we’ve found each other, isn’t it?” Decca said. “Where are you staying? I insist that you move your things here and stay with me for a while, if you’re not otherwise occupied.”

“I wish that I could,” Schuyler said, and she really meant it. “But…” She had no idea how to explain why she couldn’t stay. She’d have to come up with something. “Some friends of mine are in trouble. I’m in the middle of helping them out—I came down here to help—and I need to get back to them.”

“I see,” Decca said, clearly disappointed. “Well, I won’t keep you, then.”

“No, it’s not like that!” Schuyler said. “I want to stay, really I do. And I hope that if you’ll have me, I can come back someday.”

Decca smiled. “Of course you can. You do what you need to do. I’ll be here when you return.”

“There’s just one more thing I have to ask before I go,” Schuyler said.

“About your father?”

Schuyler nodded.

“I figured you would,” Decca said.

“He did come back to you, eventually, didn’t he?” Schuyler said.

“Yes, he did.” She smiled sadly.

“I need to find him. Do you know where he is?”

“I do,” Decca said, giving her a concerned look.

“Where is he?”

“He’s here.”