Gates of Paradise (Blue Bloods 7)

“Positive,” Lawson said. “I’m coming with you.”

So it was decided. Lawson and Bliss would travel to find the vampires, while the rest of the pack would regroup with Arthur.

Bliss rented a car, a subcompact Hyundai, which was a far cry from being chauffeured around in a silver Rolls, but although she still had a working credit card, she had to be careful. After battling hounds and moving through the passages, the ten-hour drive to the city was surprisingly relaxing. Bliss let Lawson take the wheel, even if he drove like a speed demon.

“Hey, lead foot, give it a break, will you?” she teased. “Sort of following that car closely, aren’t you?”

“Am I? I didn’t notice,” he said, giving her a sheepish grin.

For a moment Bliss was keenly reminded of the night they’d spent together, when they had almost…well. No point in thinking of that now. It was just a mistake anyway. Lawson had been mourning Tala, the mate he had lost, and Bliss had been too drunk to truly understand what was happening. They were friends, and that’s all they were going to be. She decided not to press. What was more annoying than a girl who wanted everything spelled out? What’s going on with us? How do you feel about me? She cringed at the thought that she could be so needy.

So instead she filled the time by telling him about vampire society, about the Committee meetings, the life cycles of rest and reincarnation, the Covens and the Conduits, and Schuyler’s quest to protect the Gates of Hell from the threat of the Silver Blood demons.

“I know it’s a lot to lay on you right now,” she said.

“The better I understand what’s going on, the more helpful I can be,” he replied. “Don’t worry, I like listening to you.”

She smiled at him but didn’t want to let herself think that everything would go back to normal—what was normal, anyway?—but it was comforting to know that maybe they could resume their friendship.

“So what’s our strategy?” he asked, as they drove through Pennsylvania.

“First, we go to Schuyler’s house, see if she’s there. She probably won’t be, but it’s worth a shot. Then we go to Oliver’s.”

“Her Conduit, right?”

He’d been paying attention. “He used to be, anyway. That’s a whole other story, and not worth getting into right now. Last I heard, he was serving as Conduit for Mimi Force.”

“Jack’s twin. I’m starting to catch on, I think.”

They drove the rest of the way without speaking, listening to the radio. A year didn’t change much, Bliss thought. Most of the songs were the same ones she’d heard before, and the new ones sounded just like the old ones.

When they reached Manhattan, Bliss directed Lawson to the Upper West Side. She noted with some amusement that Lawson’s driving seemed to be getting more cautious now that he was around the aggressive New York City taxi drivers.

“Okay, just double-park in front of that building,” she said, pointing to an elegant, if slightly shabby, mansionette on Riverside Drive. “We can always move the car if Schuyler’s here.”

“Are you sure? What if we get a ticket?” he asked, but he did as she suggested. Quite a change of pace—she was used to either being in Lawson’s world or in a place neither of them was familiar with. Here she was at home, and it felt good to be in charge.

No surprise to find Schuyler not at home. The brownstone was shuttered, the curtains drawn, and the place looked as if it had been abandoned. Bliss directed Lawson to the Upper East Side, and going crosstown took almost an hour in the early evening traffic. “That was hell,” he grumbled.

“Welcome to New York,” Bliss said with a smile. “They say the subway’s faster, but…”

“Don’t tell me: you’ve never taken it. Lifestyles of the rich and famous,” he teased.

“Well, I’ve never been in a Hyundai, that’s for sure.”

They left the car in front of Oliver’s building and went inside. The doorman must have been on a smoke break, because the desk was vacant.

“Should we wait?” Lawson asked.

Bliss just grabbed his arm and went to the elevator, then pressed the button for the penthouse. She’d only been to Oliver’s place a couple of times, but it was hard to forget. Lavish even for New York, it took up the top three stories of the building. Oliver had his own floor, complete with the game room that had made going to his house so popular with Schuyler and Dylan.

Dylan.

Bliss didn’t want to think about him now.

The elevator opened into the apartment, so they didn’t have to worry about knocking. “Oliver?” Bliss called out. “Mr. Hazard-Perry? Mrs. H-P? Anybody home?”

Her voice echoed in the silence of the apartment.