Schuyler felt dire trepidation as they shared a taxicab up to hospital, but she tried to suppress it. When they arrived at the complex, the guards joked about her ?boyfriend? as they gave Jack a visitor's tag.
"Who's here? Where are we going?" he asked, as he followed her swiftly down the hallway.
"My mother," Schuyler said. "You'll see."
"Your mother? I thought your mother was dead."
"She might as well be," Schuyler said grimly.
She led him down the empty hallways to the corner room. She looked through the glass window and motioned for Jack to do the same.
There was a man there, kneeling at the foot of the bed. The same mysterious visitor who came every Sunday, whom Schuyler had seen more than once in her mother's room. So that was why Charles Force had looked so familiar to her at Aggie's funeral. Now she recognized the set of the shoulders. He was the man in the basement of The Bank, and the beast who had just attacked her. The dark stranger wasn't her father after all, but a Silver Blood. A monster. She felt a furious rage - what if Charles Force had had something to do with her mother's condition? What had he done to her?
"Father," Jack said as he entered the room. He stopped and stared when he saw the face of the woman in the bed. The woman in his dreams. Allegra Van Alen.
Charles looked up and saw Schuyler and Jack standing in front of him. "I thought we had put an end to this," he said, frowning at the two of them together.
"Where were you half an hour ago?" Schuyler demanded. "Here."
"Liar," Schuyler accused. "CROATAN!"
Charles raised his eyebrows. "Should I be insulted? Please lower your voice. Show some respect for your surroundings. We're in a hospital, not at a wrestling match."
"It's you, Father. We saw you." Jack said. He still couldn't believe Allegra was still alive. But what was she doing in a hospital?
"What exactly are you both accusing me of?"
"Where did you get those scratches?" Jack demanded, noticing the cuts on his father's face.
"Your mother's confounded Persian," Charles growled.
"I don't think so," Schuyler scoffed.
"What is this all about?" Charles demanded. "Why are the two of you here?"
"You attacked Schuyler. I held you off. It was you, I saw you... Schuyler said the words, and my foe revealed its face. And it was yours."
"Is this what you believe?"
"Yes."
"Your grandmother is right, Schuyler," Charles said in a bemused tone. "Times have certainly changed if my own son thinks I am Abomination. That is what you're calling me, isn't it, Jack?" he asked, as he pulled down his shirt cuff and showed them a mark on the underhand of his right wrist. It was of a sword, a golden sword piercing a cloud.
"What is it? Why are you showing us this?" Schuyler asked.
"The mark of the Archangel," Jack explained, his voice reverent. He forgot about his confusion concerning Allegra Van Alen for a moment, and dropped to his knees, prostrating himself in front of his father's feet.
"Precisely," Charles said with a thin smile.
"What does it mean?" Schuyler asked.
"It means, my father is no more a Silver Blood than you or I," Jack explained, his voice rising. "The mark of the Archangel. It can't be duplicated and it can't be falsified. My father is Michael, Pure of Heart, who voluntarily accompanied the banished onto the earth to guide us in our immortal journey." He bowed to his father. "Forgive me. I have been lost, but now I am found."
"Rise, my son. There is nothing to forgive."
Schuyler looked from father to son with questioning eyes. "But I used the Sacred Language. The incantation to reveal its true nature."
"Silver Bloods are agile shape-shifters," Charles explained. "It would follow your command - but only after showing you something it knew would throw you off, to shock you. Only afterward would it show its true identity. But only for the briefest moment."