The room remained silent for a long time. No one spoke or made any kind of noise: no nervous coughing, no impatient scraping of a chair. From her seat in the back, Deming Chen watched the Blue Bloods carefully. She was impressed by their ability to hold their emotions in check, but she sensed fear and anger from the assembled group.
This was not a good sign. It meant as Regent, Mimi Force did not have the backing of her Conclave. It was a pity, as anyone who could deflect a blood spell without a mark on her must have had very powerful protection at her disposal, and was worthy of respect and admiration. When Mimi had first gotten in touch with her, Deming was shocked to find that the rumors were true, that the New York Coven was being led by someone so early in her cycle, and carried the spirit of Azrael, no less. Things really must be dire if the Coven had the Angel of Death at its head. Deming had met Mimi Force only once before, during the Four Hundred Ball almost two years ago, when the newborn flock revealed their immortal identities.
Deming liked Mimi well enough, although the memory of the Blue Bloods’ long-ago insurrection was still sharp in her mind, as if it had happened yesterday. Azrael and Abbadon had led the campaign against the Almighty—had helped the Morningstar assemble a legion of the best and brightest. We are the gods now, Azrael had told them. The rule of Paradise can be ours. The great and mighty warrior queen had flattered and persuaded them, had convinced them they had been chosen personally for their strengths. How could they refuse?
Deming looked around: this was a sorry group indeed, filled with the elderly and the untested. Some of the Conclave members looked like they were way past the time for their cycle to be over, while some, like the Regent, were only coming into their full powers and memories. Not that she should be so critical, as she herself had just celebrated her seventeenth birthday.
That the Blue Blood ranks had been reduced to such a state was troubling, to say the least. News was bad all over: the European Coven was in a communication blackout after what had happened in Paris; they refused to send word or share information, fearing other traitors in the community. In South America, the Conclave had declared martial law, and inter-Coven transactions shut down. Deming had expected more from the North American delegation—New York was famously the most powerful stronghold of the vampires. This was where Michael and Gabrielle had made their home. But the Uncorrupted had disappeared to who knows where, and no one knew when and if they would ever return. The vampires were on their own.
Deming drained her coffee cup. It had been an eighteen-hour flight into Kennedy Airport from Pudong, and she had spent the entire time poring over the Venator reports, re-reading every log, scrutinizing every decision. The Truth Seekers had operated by the book, and she could not find fault in their actions, but this junction required more from them than routine operations. She tried to hide a yawn. She had barely slept and could feel a giant headache forming. You’d think as immortals they would be immune from jet lag, she thought ruefully.
At the front of the room, the Regent was calling her name, and she realized with a start that everyone was looking at her. “Please allow me to introduce Venator Deming Chen. Time and again, Deming has proven to be one of our most effective and efficient Truth Seekers. I’m sure many of you remember that she, along with her twin, Dehua, was instrumental during critical victories in our history: the Egyptian Terrors, the Crisis in Rome, and the Monumental Schism are only a few of the battles her sword has helped us win. We are grateful that her Coven was kind enough to send her to help us on this case.”
That was quite an introduction, akin to reading a résumé, really, but Deming was used to it. As Kuan Yin, Angel of Mercy, she was highly sensitive to emotion and mood, and back in Shanghai was famous for her talent at reading a person’s guanghuán or, in the Sacred Language, affectus, the color representation of one’s interior barometer that was undetectable to the eye. She was one of two vampires (her sister was the other) who could see it without the help of the glom. Red Bloods had a name for it as well, but those charlatans who purported to read a person’s “aura” were doing nothing but guesswork. You had to have angel sight to be able to read the real thing.
Deming stood and joined Mimi at the podium. “Six months ago, a vampire from our Coven was kidnapped,” she said, taking a remote control from the table and pulling up two photographs on the back screen. It showed Victoria, tied and blindfolded on one side, and a dark-haired girl bound in a similar manner on the other. “Liling Tang’s father is one of the richest men in China, and Liling’s abductors demanded twenty million dollars for her release. Because of the money issue, naturally we concentrated on the humans in our community. However, in the end, we discovered she was taken by one of us. A Blue Blood.”
The assembled group did not stir. It was almost as if they had expected it, and Deming soldiered on. “Her location was hidden by a masking spell, but after a thorough investigation, we were able to figure out where she was being held, and rescued her before the appointed deadline.”
She continued. “I’ve gone over Victoria’s file. According to the Warden overseers, Victoria arrived at the party at eleven p.m. After that she was never seen anywhere again. Otherwise the Wardens would have picked up on her glom signature when she left. Therefore, whoever took her was at that party, which means whoever did this was someone close to her as well—someone from her inner circle. Someone from Duchesne. Someone she trusted.”
“Deming will be enrolled as a senior at Duchesne,” the Regent announced. “She will infiltrate Victoria Taylor’s close group of friends, those who had been at Jamie Kip’s party on the night in question. As we do not want to cause unnecessary fear or panic, this must remain a strict undercover operation.”
“I’ve got a question. How did you find Liling if her glom signature was masked?” Ted Lennox asked. Deming had met him the night before; he had picked her up at the airport with his brother.
“We sent a DeathWalker into the glom.”
The room buzzed at this information. “A glom-induced coma? To hide the spirit trail? But the potential damage to the soul is . . .” Ted shook his head. “You’d have to be really crazy or really brave to do something like that. Who’d you find to carry out such a risky operation?”
“I did it myself,” Deming said coolly. It was either her or Dehua, and Deming had always been the stronger of the twins. She hadn’t allowed her sister to take the risk.
The crowd murmured its approval. DeathWalkers stripped their immortal spirit to its very essence, and in doing so mimicked death. With no trace of her spirit in the glom, she had been able to go underneath the masking spell and find the physical location of the hostage.
The Regent tapped her lectern. “Are there any more questions?” She looked around. There were none. “I don’t have to remind you that this information is classified to the Conclave and the Venator team originally assigned to the case. No one else in the Coven must know we are conducting an internal investigation. As far as they are concerned, the Conspiracy has taken care of the security breach posed by the online video. The mainstream world remains blissfully ignorant of our existence. Victoria’s disappearance has been explained as a transfer to a Swiss boarding school. The Taylors have been alerted to the situation and are cooperating.”
The meeting ended, and as Deming collected her things, the Regent walked to her side. Deming was struck by Azrael’s beauty. It was said among the vampires that only Gabrielle was lovelier, although it had been a while since Deming had seen her in the flesh. Deming had not been in cycle when Allegra was still active. The Regent’s translucent skin had the creamy freshness of youth, a radiant vitality in contrast to heavy sadness in her emerald green eyes. “You have everything you need?” Mimi asked. “How are the boys treating you?”
“Venator quarters are a dump. Just like back home.” Deming grinned. “But I’ll manage.”
“Glad to hear. Remember, at school, I don’t know you. So please don’t take anything I do or say personally.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” said Deming. She made for the door, but she got the sense that the Regent still had something she wanted to say, so she stuck around.
Mimi waited until the room was completely empty to speak. “There’s another thing. It’s come to my attention that there are those among us who believe that as community we pose too much of a target. Venators loyal to me have discovered that Josiah Archibald and several other Conclave members are planning a coup to disband the Coven. They’re going to shut down the Repository, move the House of Records underground, and take half of the registered families with them. I’ve let them think I don’t know anything about their plans. But I need to find the killer. If I can figure out who’s behind the videos, I can regain their trust, calm the opposition, and make the Coven whole again.”
Deming nodded. Mimi had not mentioned this when she’d debriefed her on the assignment, and it was a shock to learn the New York Coven was in such jeopardy. But then, n
o other Coven had lost as many immortal lives. “The blood spell that hit you—do you think the Conclave had something to do with it?” Deming asked.
“The Venators aren’t completely certain yet; they’re still breaking down the mechanics of the spell. But right now it’s our best guess that yes, it was intended to get me out of the way.” Mimi bowed her head. “The Conclave had access to my Repository log. Somehow they found out I was planning to take down the wards.”
“Do you think they were involved in Victoria’s abduction?”
“No. Of course not. But they used it as an opportunity to attack me.”
“Can I ask how you deflected the blood spell?”
The Regent sighed. “I’m not sure myself. As far as our doctors can tell, it just passed through me—neutralized on impact. As if I were wearing a bulletproof vest.”