Blue Bloods (Blue Bloods 1)

The Committee meetings were reinstated on Monday. They had been canceled for several weeks, without any explanation given to the junior members. During the meeting, planning for the Four Hundred Ball began in earnest. There was still no mention of Aggie's death or Dylan's arrest. Instead, there was excited chatter for the Christmas formal. The Four Hundred Ball was the most anticipated party of the year, the most glamorous, the most fantastic, and the most exclusive, as only Blue Bloods were invited.

Schuyler went to the meeting just to see if she could still talk some sense into Jack, who was standing with his back to her. The junior members were divided into subcommittees, and Schuyler joined the Invitation group only because it sounded like the least work. Just as she'd thought, the only task they had was to put together the guest list, which would be vetted by the Senior Committee, and then they would stamp and mail the invitations, which were already chosen, designed, and printed.

"I'm worried about Dylan," Bliss said, when the meeting was over. "Where is he? The police still won't say. And my dad keeps telling me to keep out of it."

"I know, I am too." Schuyler nodded, as her gaze drifted over to where Jack was chatting with Mrs. DuPont and Mimi.

"It's a lost cause, Schuyler. I know the Force twins. They stick together."

"I just have to try," Schuyler said wistfully. She still couldn't believe that the boy who'd kissed her so passionately not so long ago was now ignoring her and acting as if nothing had ever happened between them. She couldn't reconcile the Jack who'd told her about his dreams and his blocked memories with the one who was cheerfully debating swing orchestras or jazz bands for the upcoming ball.

"Suit yourself," Bliss sighed. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

Schuyler nodded. Bliss walked away and Schuyler moved toward Jack Force. Thankfully, Mimi had already left the room.

"Jack, you have to listen to me," she said, pulling him aside. "Please."

"Why?"

"I know what The Committee's hiding. I know what Croatan is."

He stopped, gaping at her. "How?" He had avoided meeting her gaze, but he looked at her now - Schuyler's cheeks were blazing red from anger, and she looked even more beautiful than he remembered.

"My grandmother told me." She relayed everything her grandmother had told her about the Silver Bloods, and the killings in Roanoke and Plymouth.

His forehead furrowed. "She isn't allowed to do that. It's privileged information."

"You know about this?"

"I did some research of my own, and my father told me the rest. But it's a dead end."

"What do you mean? It's the first clue."

He shook his head. "Schuyler, I'm sorry to have misled you. But Aggie's death is being taken care of. You have to trust The Committee to do the right thing. Your grandmother told you an old myth. There is no such thing as the Silver Bloods. No one has ever even proved they really existed."

"I don't believe you. We need to convince The Committee to warn everyone. If you don't join me, I'll do it myself."

"There's nothing I can do to stop you?" Jack asked.

Schuyler jutted her chin out in determination. "No." She looked askance at him. Just a few weeks ago, she'd been falling in love with him, with his courage and his bravery. Where was the boy who refused to swallow the lies The Committee told them? Where had he gone? When they had danced together at the Informals, she thought she had never been happier in her life. But Jack wasn't the boy she thought he was. Maybe he never had been.

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CHAPTER 35

The Central Park Conservatory luncheon was one of the most important events on Cordelia's social calendar. It was held in a ballroom at the Plaza, and was already well under way when Schuyler arrived. She checked in at the registration table and found her grandmother seated in the center with well-preserved luminaries on either side.

"My granddaughter, Schuyler," Cordelia said, looking pleased.

Schuyler pecked her grandmother's cheek. She took a seat at the table, removing a program from her chair.

The yearly luncheon raised a significant sum for the upkeep and maintenance of the park. It was one of the Blue Bloods most cherished causes. It had been their idea to bring nature to New York, to bring an oasis to the heart of the city, a simulacrum of the Garden they had been banished from so long ago. Schuyler recognized many of the grande dames and socialites from The Committee meetings flitting about from table to table, greeting guests.

"Cordelia - what's Croatan?" Schuyler demanded, breaking in to the gossipy chitchat.

The table went silent, and several ladies raised their eyebrows at Schuyler and her grandmother.

Cordelia startled at the word. She broke the roll she was holding in two. "This is neither the time nor the place, young lady," she said quietly.