Misguided Angel (Blue Bloods 5)

“This thing’s on the Internet?” she asked, motioning to the screen.

Mimi nodded. “Yes, but the Conspiracy’s working to add the Suck movie tagline on it. That should be up within an hour.”

“Good, that takes care of exposure.”

“But it doesn’t help us find our victim,” Mimi pointed out. “You heard the video, and this time we only have three days until the next crescent moon. I’ve managed to keep the Conclave unaware of this new hostage for now. I can’t take the wards down again; not that it helped us any last time. So start doing what I brought you here to do. You’d better come up with something, Chen! Find me my killer! Find Stuart! Or I swear to God when the Coven dies, I’ll take you down with me.” The Regent did not need the help of the glom to look like a wrathful Angel of Death just then.

But Deming remained unperturbed in her seat. “Understood.”

“You seem awfully confident,” Mimi huffed. “What are you planning?”

“What I should’ve done the minute I arrived in New York. A DeathWalk.”

THIRTY-SIX

Background Checks

The next morning the Lennox brothers listened intently as Deming outlined what they would need to help her prepare for the mission. After yesterday’s humiliation she had believed she would never be able to work in New York again, that her fellow Venators would demand she be taken off the case and shipped back directly to China. Instead the brothers were being extraordinarily understanding. It happened all the time, they assured her. Venator work was not infallible. They made mistakes. What was important was that they kept trying.

The plan was for the three of them to enter the glom together, with Sam keeping an eye out for danger and staying at the top level, while Ted would follow her as far as he could into the spirit trail, stopping just below the subconscious layer. Once Deming flatlined she would be able to go underneath the masking spell, locate Stuart, and pull his body out of the real world and into the glom, where the boys would be waiting to help, and then the four of them would jump out together.

“Still sounds risky,” Sam said, shaking his head. “Once you’re in the protoconscious, you’re on your own, and you might not be able to get back into your body in time.”

“Yes, technically I’ll be dead for five minutes and my heart will stop beating. But five minutes out here is like five hours in the glom. I’ll have plenty of time.”

“It’s your call.”

Deming nodded. “We’ll do it tomorrow night. I need a day to get ready.”

To prepare for a DeathWalk she had to familiarize herself with every aspect of her victims’ current and past incarnations. Given the immortal history of the Blue Bloods, one could never predict what one might find in a DeathWalk, and it was best to be prepared. She had a hunch Stuart Rhodes was not a random victim even though he had no apparent link to Victoria Taylor. From her innumerable cycles as a Truth Seeker, Deming knew that things were rarely as they seemed, and while it might appear on the surface that Victoria Taylor and Stuart Rhodes had no connection to each other, the reality was usually a lot more complicated.

Stuart Rhodes’s cycle mother was out of the county, and Deming left a message with her assistant to call her back as soon as Mrs. Rhodes was able. In the meantime, Victoria Taylor’s cycle mother agreed to meet Deming for a cup of coffee that afternoon. Even if there was nothing more she could do for Victoria, Deming thought maybe the cycle parents would know something that might help her current case, to see if there was any connection between the two victims.

She met Gertrude Taylor at the MOMA café that afternoon. Gertrude was one of the museum’s premier trustees, a hard-working Committee member. The Taylors had been told of Victoria’s demise but had been denied the ability to grieve, as the Regent had insisted on keeping everything classified until the case was solved. According to the Venator reports, the Taylors were hands-off parents who barely knew their daughter, so Deming did not know what to expect.

“How lovely to meet you.” Gertrude smiled and took a seat at the bustling café.

“Thanks for meeting me, Mrs. Taylor.”

“Oh, it’s Gertrude, and I know you’re not a student at Duchesne, really. You’re the Venator they brought in to find out who did this to Victoria, yes?”

“I aim to.” Deming nodded.

“Good.” Gertrude stirred her green tea. Up close, Deming could see the deep lines around her eyes. While the woman gave every outward indication of serenity and contentment, her face bore a shadow of sorrows that no amount of plastic surgery or vampire genes could mask. The reports were wrong. This woman was clearly suffering. “Victoria was our first. We’ve never been asked to carry a spirit before. Our names came up in the House of Records and we were thrilled. Victoria was the most sweet-tempered child. She always had so many friends. I can’t imagine how anyone would want to harm her, especially someone who knew her.”

“What about an earlier cycle? Was there anything in her past that might indicate . . . a grudge? A weakness? Anything?”

“I don’t recall.”

Deming took out her notepad. “When was her last incarnation? Did she tell you?”

“Let me see. I think when the Transformation began and Victoria started having the blood memories, she said she believed she was last in cycle in Florence, around the fifteenth century or so—she remembered being in Michelangelo’s studio. The House of Records would have her file, I should think. Sometimes the blood memory isn’t so reliable at her age.”

“Thanks very much, you’ve been really helpful.”

“No, thank you. The Conclave has kept us in the dark about all this, but we’re very glad to hear they’ve put someone of your caliber in charge.” Gertrude Taylor rose from the table and shook Deming’s hand, her eyes bright with tears. For a moment she did not look like an intimidating society matron or a fallen angel, merely a mother mourning her daughter.

* * *