"No, Papa," he said firmly. "I am in absolutely no danger. This is about you--" Pause. "No, my blood--" Pause. "My blood won't--" Pause. "Papa, listen to me. Please. Edward can't use my blood for the ritual."
The lie flowed so smoothly even I almost wondered whether I'd misunderstood Jaime.
"Consider it logically, Papa," Lucas continued. "Why would the ritual require the blood of the person who passed through? That person is gone and, in almost every case, not coming back. In most sacrificial rituals, if the original subject is no longer available, you must use the nearest same-sex blood relative, correct?"
A brief pause. Lucas's lips parted in a silent sigh of relief.
"Yes, that's right," he said. "Therefore you are the one in danger. I know you're extremely security-conscious already, but this will require additional protection. For the next twenty-four hours, you should excuse yourself from public life and--"
Lucas stopped and listened, frown lines deepening with each passing second.
"Yes, yes, I do remember your mentioning it, but--" Pause. "In this one case, I believe you have a reasonable excuse for not attending--" Pause. "Yes, perhaps it would be a way to trap him, but--" Another sigh, this one audible. His eyes cut to me.
"Let me speak to Paige, and I'll phone you back."
"What's this about trapping Edward?" I said as Lucas hung up.
"My father is scheduled to make an appearance tonight--a semipublic appearance--and he refuses to bow out. He hopes Edward will show up."
"The charity masquerade," I said. "For the New York firefighters."
"Precisely."
"Would Edward know he's there?"
"It's a large event, well covered in the media. The Cortez Corporation is a cosponsor, and my father is expected to attend. Edward would only need to pick up today's paper to see that. That may also explain why the cab dropped him off at the Caribbean marketplace. It would be an excellent place to get costume fixings." He swore under his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Perhaps I can still talk him out of it--"
"You won't," I said. "He's not going to that safe house any more than you are. We have to deal with it. Let's go talk to the others."
As we walked back into the main room, Elena was talking.
"Okay," she said. "This is dead obvious so, since no one else is bringing it up, I know I'm missing something. We're assuming that Edward wants to go back through the portal to get to Natasha. My question is: Why doesn't he just kill himself?"
"I know that sounds easy, Elena, but for a vampire, it's more complicated than that." Cassandra's voice held none of the impatient snap she used with the rest of us. "The only way we can die is by being beheaded."
"Not the easiest method of suicide. Okay, I get it. But why..." She hesitated, as if reluctant to question something if no one else was.
"Why not get someone else to do it?" Clay said.
Elena nodded. "Right."
"Because he can't guarantee he'll end up with Natasha," I said as I took my place on the sofa. "We have no idea where she is, whether it was some kind of vampire afterlife, or a side effect of their immortality experiments. The best way for Edward to ensure he'd be with Natasha is to use the portal she opened. In the meantime, we have a new problem."
I told them about Benicio's plan.
"Maybe this is for the best," Cassandra said. "You've done your share--more than your share. Let the Cabals finish this. I would prefer to see Edward taken quietly and allowed a fair trial, but if he's killed while attempting to kidnap a Cabal CEO, there's little I can do about that."
She glanced at Aaron as if for confirmation.
He nodded. "Not much chance they'll behead the guy in the middle of a charity gala. They'll probably settle for taking him into custody; then we could intervene later. If not, well, Cassandra and I can deal with any fallout in the vampire community. Edward has committed enough crimes that I'm not going to put someone else in danger just to make sure he gets a fair trial."
I looked at Lucas. Stone-faced, he was struggling not to argue, but I could see concern simmering in his eyes.
"Your father invited us to the masquerade," I said softly. "Maybe we should go."
"As backup, I hope," Clay said. "Because if you mean what I think you mean--"
I lifted a hand. "Hear me out, okay? Yes, I mean Lucas and I go as guests, that we set ourselves up as bait."