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Schuyler settled in her chair, noticing the faded Aubusson rugs on the hard stone floor. They were similar to the ones in Cordelia's library on 101st Street.
"Your Conduit?"
Lawrence nodded. He stood up and walked over to the recessed bar across from the fireplace, opened a lower cabinet, and removed a bottle of port wine. He poured two glasses of the scarlet liquid and handed Schuyler a glass.
"I had a feeling," she said, accepting the drink. She sipped it slowly. It was sweet without being cloying, full-bodied and delicious. Alcohol had no effect on vampires, but most of them still enjoyed the taste.
"I thought you might. You almost turned to address me, but caught yourself. How did you know?"
"The lord of the manor typically seats on the left, where you were, while he was seated on your right," Schuyler said. It was a law of medieval etiquette she had learned from Cordelia's endless lessons on Blue Blood history. The king was always seated on the left, while his queen, or any lesser personage was seated on the right.
"Ah, very observant. I forgot. I am getting old."
"I'm sorry Cordelia couldn't be here," Schuyler said softly.
Lawrence sighed. "It is all right. We have been separated now for more than a century. One gets used to solitude. Perhaps one day it will be safe for us to be together again."
He leaned back on his chair and removed a cigar from his front pocket. "So, you are Allegra's daughter." He said, breaking off the corner of the cigar with a silver cigar cutter. "I have been watching you. I knew you were looking for me the minute you arrived in Venice. I sensed something in the air--I thought it was your mother but it was a different energy. You saw me."
"You were the woman on the street that I saw today. You had taken Allegra's form," Schuyler realized aloud. It all made sense now. Lawrence nodded.
"I do sometimes. If only because I have missed her for a very long time." He took a quick puff from the cigar and exhaled. "I was wary of coming out to you until I was certain of your identity. I have many enemies, Schuyler. They have been hunting me for centuries. You could have been one of them."
Schuyler sat up suddenly, almost spilling her drink. "The lady at the pensione? That was you as well. At least at first."
Lawrence chuckled. "Yes. Of course."
"So that was why she said she had never seen us before when we came down the stairs. She was telling the truth." Schuyler set her empty glass on the small side table across from her chair, taking care to place it on one of the gold-plated coasters.
"Marie is an honest landlady, I'll give her that." Lawrence smiled.
"Why did you show us your room?"
"I didn't mean to, but you were chasing me and I had to seek shelter in one of my secret hiding places around the city. I have many addresses, you know. One needs them if one is going to hide successfully. Marie was telling you the truth; the room was locked. But it opened for you. I took that as a good sign. I thought I would give you a clue see if you would be able to find me in the Biennale. You did well. You were drawn to the Olafur Eliasson as was I."
"But why did you run away from me again? I was chasing you."
"And you almost got me. My God, the speed of you--you are unbelievably strong. It took all of my energy just to stay ahead of you. I was still unsure of your intentions or your identity. You surprised me by finding me in front of the Colonial building. I'm sorry I had to use that sleep spell on you."
"Why do you choose to trust me now?" Schuyler asked.
"Because only Allegra's daughter would know the correct Advoco Adiuvo, the invocation you used. Cordelia and I had agreed that if we ever went looking for each other, our emissaries would use those words from the Sacred Language. Without the Advoco, you would never have found me in a thousand years, regardless of your powers. But I had to put you to sleep to stall for time while I made sure you had not been corrupted. I had to take you somewhere safe, where we would not be observed."
Schuyler nodded. She had guessed as much.
"So now you have found me, what do you want?" Lawrence asked, looking at Schuyler through a haze of smoke.
"I want to know about the Silver Bloods. I want to know everything."
;
When Schuyler woke up, she was lying in an enormous king-size bed in the middle of a vast room furnished in what can only be described as Early Medieval Royalty. An immense and foreboding tapestry depicting the death of a unicorn decorated the far wall, a gargantuan gold chandelier lit with a hundred dripping candles hung from the ceiling, and the bed itself was piled with all manner of thick and woolly animal pelts. The whole place conveyed a brutal, primitive elegance.
She blinked her eyes and her hands went flying up to her neck. But there were no bite marks. She was safe from that, at least.
"Ah, you are awake."
Schuyler turned to the sound of the voice. A uni- formed maidservant in a black dress with a white apron curtsied. "If you please, follow me, Miss Van Alen," she said. "I am supposed to take you downstairs."
