Revelations (Blue Bloods 3)

"What are you talking about?" she cried. It was getting to be too much. All these secrets and lies, she was sick of it. She was sick of being kept in the dark about everything. "I know all about Allegra!" she declared suddenly, with a look of defiance.

BobiAnne gave her husband a look that said, "I told you so."

"Know what about Allegra?" Forsyth inquired, a look of innocence on his face.

"I found this ..." Bliss reached into her pocket and showed them the photograph with the inscription, which she kept close by at all times. "You lied to me. You told me my mother's name was Charlotte Potter. But there never was a Charlotte Potter, was there?"

Forsyth hesitated. "No - but it's not what you think."

"Then tell me."

"It's complicated," he sighed. His eyes wandered over to the panoramic view of the beach, not wanting to meet her gaze. "One day when you're ready, I will tell you. But not yet."

It was maddening. Her father was doing it again: sidestepping her questions, stonewalling her. Shielding her from the truth.

"What about Jordan?" she asked.

"Don't worry. She won't hurt you again," Forsyth said soothingly. "We're going to send her someplace safe."

"You're sending her to Transitions?"

"Something like that," her father said.

"But why?"

"Bliss, honey, she'll be better off," BobiAnne said.

"But ..." Bliss was completely confused. Her parents were talking about Jordan as if she were a dog being sent off to the country. They talked about her like she didn't matter.

But Bliss had to admit to herself that the strange family dynamics weren't entirely new. She thought about how BobiAnne never spoke lovingly of Jordan, had always made it clear that she preferred Bliss, who wasn't even her real child. How her father had always kept an arm's-length distance from his odd younger daughter.

When Bliss was younger she'd relished her parents' indifference to her younger sister. Now she realized it was pathological.

Her parents hated Jordan.

They always had.

"That was the hotel," Oliver explained, returning to the table. "Someone's checked out, and a room's opened up. They asked me if I wanted to take it. So you've got a room," he told Schuyler, his face neutral.

"Thanks," she said, trying to make her voice sound as normal as possible, even if there was a hole where her heart should be. But she forced all thoughts of Jack out of her head; later...she would mourn later.

"So why is the Conclave here, Lawrence?" Oliver asked. "Is it because of Leviathan?"

"The Conclave is here?" Lawrence asked sharply.

"Oh! I forgot to mention it - yeah. They're here. All of them," Schuyler said. "I think they arrived last night."

Lawrence mulled over this latest piece of information while draining his drink. As if she had vampire ability of her own, the waitress reappeared with another cocktail at his elbow. "More virgin coladas?" she asked, motioning to the half-empty glasses filled with melting yellow goo.

"Make mine a whiskey," Oliver coughed.

"Make that two," Schuyler quickly added, thinking she would risk her grandfather's censure later. "Who's Leviathan?" she asked, turning to Oliver. Around them the bar was starting to fill up with sunburned tourists coming in for happy hour, and a samba band began to play a rousing set.

"If you'd done your reading, Granddaughter, you would know the answer to that question," Lawrence replied.

"Leviathan's a demon." Oliver explained.

"One  of  the mightiest  Silver Bloods  of  all  time," Lawrence said. "The brother of the Dark Prince himself. His second-in-command."