Blue Bloods (Blue Bloods 1)

It was a library - a large, airy space that smelled like chalk dust and parchment. There were bookshelves that reached seventy-five feet to the ceiling, and a maze of ladders and bridges that connected the towering stacks. It was bright and well-lit, and decorated with cozy Aubusson rugs and bankers lamps. Several scholars at rolltop desks looked up curiously when they entered. Oliver bowed to them and led Schuyler to a private cubicle.

"This is the Repository of History. We keep it protected."

"Who's we?"

Oliver put a hand to his lips. He led her to a small, shabby desk in the back of the room. It held a gleaming iBook, several framed photographs, and a dozen Post-it notes. He searched the shelf on top of the desk and made a satisfied sound as he took down a book, musty and dirty from years of use. He blew softly on the cover. He flipped to the first page and displayed it to her. He pointed to the crumbling page where a family tree was illustrated, the name Van Alen inscribed in the center, with Hazard-Perry in small letters underneath.

"What is this?"

"It's how we're related," Oliver explained. "How we're associated, I mean. We're not family, so don't worry."

"What do you mean?" she asked, still trying to fathom the fact that there was a secret library underneath the nightclub.

"My family has served yours for centuries."

"Come again?"

"I'm a Conduit. Like everyone in my family. We've been caretakers for the Blue Bloods forever. We work as doctors, lawyers, accountants, financiers. We've served the Van Alens in that capacity since the 1700s. You know Dr. Pat? She's my aunt."

"What do you mean, serve us? Your family is so much richer than mine," Schuyler pointed out.

"An accident of fate. We offered to ameliorate the situation, but your grandmother wouldn't hear of it. 'Times have changed, she said."

"But what does that mean - a Conduit?"

"It means, we serve a different purpose. Not all humans are familiars."

"You know about that?" she asked. She looked down at the page again, recognizing the names of her ancestors on her mother's side.

"I know enough."

"But why didn't you ever say anything?"

"I'm not allowed."

"But how come you can know what you are, but I didn't know what I was?"

"Search me. That's how it's been since the beginning Being a Conduit is something that's passed down, that's taught, and it's easier to teach at a young age. We serve to keep the Blue Bloods a secret, to protect them and help them manage in the real world. The practice is an old one, and only a few vampire families keep Conduits nowadays. Most got rid of theirs, like the Forces. It's an ancient tradition, and some Blue Bloods don't keep to the old ways anymore. Like your grandmother said, things are different now I'm one of the last of our kind."

"Why?"

"Who knows?" Oliver shrugged. "Most Blue Bloods can take care of themselves anyway. They don't need us anymore. They don't trust the Red Bloods to help; they want to control them instead."

There was a commotion at another desk, and they turned to see a cowering, hunchbacked librarian being berated by an angry older woman with a distinctly recognizable blond bob.

"What's happening?"

"Anders is getting it again. Mrs. DuPont is not happy with the way his research is going."

Schuyler recognized the graceful figure of The Committee chair. "And Anders is?"

"A librarian. All the library staff is Red Blood. Conduits who don't work for any single family anymore."

Schuyler noticed that the Blue Bloods at the library ordered the librarians around with a grand, authoritative fashion, and for a moment she was embarrassed to be a vampire. What happened to common courtesy?

"Why do they talk to you guys like that?"

"Your family never did," Oliver said, blushing. "But like I told you, most Blue Bloods resent us. They don't even think we should be here, or know about them. But no one from your side wants to take over the Repository. No one's interested in caretaking some old books."