Lost in Time (Blue Bloods 6)

“What happened?” Schuyler asked, jumping up immediately and reaching for her weapon.

“The Cairo cycle house is under attack—that Nephilim who got away came back with a few new friends,” she huffed.

“The boys won’t be able to get back in time. Deming is fighting them, but she will be overpowered soon. I got here as fast as I could. Come.

Help us.”

Schuyler followed Dehua as they raced through the winding streets of Cairo, the two of them a blur of black silk and silver steel. The cycle house was located in the Citadel, an ancient complex built high on the cliffs towering over the eastern edge of the city. Built by Saladin to ward off the Crusaders, it was the most dominant place on the skyline. The cycle house was under attack! The Nephilim truly were bent on revenge if they were after the unborn Blue Blood spirits that were stored there. No more blood spirits meant no more births for this Coven.

Dehua led Schuyler through the footpaths that led to the hidden secret chambers. The Venator explained that they had received an all-points-distress signal from the Wardens at the Citadel. When Schuyler and Dehua arrived, the vampires working for the House of Records were already dead, and a fierce crew of Egyptian Venators was engaged in battle with a host of Nephilim. The demon-born were carrying torches burning with the Black Fire, but so far they had been unable to break into the sacristy, where the canisters holding the blood spirits were kept.

The heat was overpowering, and black smoke covered the hallway. Dehua pushed through into the antechamber. “Oh no,” she cried, as she and Schuyler stepped over the fallen bodies of dead Venators, whose corpses had been hacked to pieces or beheaded, with their eyes gouged out or burned. The door to the sacristy had been blown open, and Schuyler feared they had come too late to save anyone, least of all themselves.

Deming was surrounded by a swarm of the human demons. She was fighting them off, but they were closing in one by one. She held a golden urn tucked under one arm, while she slashed at her enemies with her sword. “NEXI INFIDELES! ” she screamed. Death to the faithless! Death to the traitors!

The Nephilim screamed, and their fury filled the smoky black room. There were ten, twenty, thirty of them, and they fell upon Deming in a rage, like cockroaches in a frenzy. Soon Schuyler could not see the brave Chinese Venator or her golden sword.

“Dear god, there’s too many of them,” Dehua cried, falling to her knees. “We’re not going to make it! Deming!” she wailed.

Schuyler held her ground. “Pull yourself together!” she ordered the flailing Venator. She wished Jack were here, but since he wasn’t, she had to be brave for all of them. Abbadon would never let the unborn spirits die. He would not give up the cycle house. He would die defending it, and so would she.

They didn’t have much time, as smoke from the Black Fire was engulfing the room, and Schuyler had to squint to see, and try not to breathe. They had to get out of there as quickly as possible. She wasn’t a trained fighter, but she was light and fast, and if she and Dehua worked together, they could surprise their enemies. “You go that way, I’ll take the front.”

The stricken Venator nodded, wiped her tears, and un-sheathed her sword. They split up and crept toward their respective stations.

When they were ready, Schuyler raised Gabrielle’s sword and took up the Venator’s rally. “DEATH! DEATH! DEATH

TO THE FAITHLESS! DEATH TO THE INFIDELS!”

Dehua joined Schuyler in screaming the Blue Blood battle cry. They were angels and warriors, and if they fell, they would die fighting. There was no other way. With a mighty swoop, they hacked their way through the dark, heaving crowd.

FOURTEEN

Doppelgangers

Mimi kicked off her sandals as she wandered through the party, liking the feel of sand on her bare feet. She didn’t know where Oliver had disappeared to, and thought that she should start looking for him soon, in case he had gotten into some trouble. As far as she could tell, they had arrived at a perfectly pleasant and ordinary New England wedding. It was a strange venue for their quest, but when she noticed a certain dark-haired gentleman dressed in a beautifully tailored linen suit, making his way to her side, she suddenly understood what this was all about.

“Mimi,” the man said, with a rougish smile she remembered so well.

For a moment her heart leapt with joy to see him—her love come back to her—but it was soon extinguished when she looked into his eyes. “I’m not a fool. I know what this is.

You’re not him,” she said flatly. Her words were stronger than her conviction, however, for it was a good imitation. The boy standing next to her had Kingsley’s swoop of dark hair and dark eyes with the mischievous sparkle. He even smelled like Kingsley—like cigarettes and whiskey, burnt sugar and coffee—and the combination made Mimi’s heart beat a little faster. Seeing this double was painful. It only reminded her how long it had been since she had seen the real Kingsley.

How long it had been since he had held her in his strong arms.

How long it had been since he had teased and cajoled her into a smile.

“How do you know? You came down here to get me back.

Well, here I am,” he said with that familiar, flirtatious grin.

“How are you?”

“I’m from here, remember? This isn’t going to play with me.”

“Speaking of play, I know how much you loved our little games,” he said, taking her hand and rubbing her palm. When he touched her, she had a flash of memory—of a bathrobe falling to the floor, and his fangs on her neck… of his body, lean and hard against her.

She shook her head. “I didn’t come down here for some doppelganger,” she snarled.