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There he was, attentively at his sister's side, the two of them gliding through the ballroom, entwined at the hip. Jack keeping a hand on Mimi's tiny waist. Schuyler had heard whispers from the Elders and the Wardens at the adjoining table...something about a bond...something about the two of them and an immortal vow. The next course was served, roast squab and a cold asparagus vinaigrette. It looked delicious, but the food tasted dry and mealy on her tongue.
"Jack," Mimi whispered softly in his ear as they made their way around the room. "It's time." Ever practical, she decided to ignore what she had seen earlier. Mimi was a mas- ter of self-deception. If something bothered her, she refused to even acknowledge its existence. In her mind, Schuyler Van Alen was a temporary, if annoying, infatuation.
But for Jack, the sight of Schuyler Van Alen had only served to ignite a feeling he had been repressing for months. A disquieting thought nagged at his conscience. Why did Schuyler affect him in such a powerful way? Was it the resemblance to Allegra? Was that all? Or was it something new...something he wasn't prepared for and didn't expect? He shook his head, disgusted and ashamed of himself. His rightful place was by his sister's side. He would just have to act as if Schuyler did not exist.
"They are waiting for us to lead the quadrille," Mimi said, and Jack dutifully escorted his sister to the dance floor, where three other young couples were waiting. It was part of Four Hundred tradition that the young who were going to be presented would lead in this dance, and the teens in the fore- most quadrille were chosen because of their family's hierar- chy in The Committee. Aggie Carondolet would have been one of the dancers had she lived.
Mimi thought the quadrille was just a fancy name for square dancing, but she enjoyed it even so, as Jack led her through the cross-over, the balance, and then the circle eight, ending with the four ladies' grand chain, which placed her in the front of the group, as it should be.
After the dance, the Blue Blood teens remained frozen in their position in the middle of the dance floor, waiting to be formally presented to the assembly, called out by their cur- rent and true names by the Regis.
"Dehua Chen," was called, and one of the imperial Chinese beauties stepped forward.
"Known to our people by her true name, Xi Wangmu." The Angel of Immortality.
"Deming Chen." Her sister was called next. The two of them were identical in their serene, otherworldly beauty, with skin the color of toasted milk; silky-straight, ebony- black hair; sexily slanted almond eyes; and an incongruous splattering of freckles across their button noses.
"Known to our people by her true name, Kuan Yin." The Angel of Mercy.
Several other Blue Blood teens were called, rounding out the former heavenly pantheon.
At last, a lone spotlight was shone on the Force twins. Mimi gripped her brother's hand tightly.
"Madeleine Force." Mimi stepped forward, her chin held high.
"Known to our people by her true name, Azrael." The Angel of Death.
"Benjamin Force." Jack bowed his head.
"Known to our people by his true name, Abbadon." The Angel of Destruction.
The twin Angels of the Apocalypse. This was their immortal destiny. This was their place. The clan's most pow- erful vampires after the Uncorrupted. Lucifer's former lieu- tenants, who had turned their backs on the Prince of Heaven after the Fall. In Rome, they had hunted and slain the Silver Blood spawn. Only by their strength had the Blue Bloods survived the millennia.
Jack smiled at Mimi, and they both bowed low to the coven.
They had their work cut out for them.
The coffee had been served in its golden carafes, and dessert--the traditional Waldorf pudding along with peaches in chartreuse jelly, as well as chocolate and vanilla ?clairs and a light- as-air meringue cake topped with Amaretto whipped cream--had been served and (lightly) consumed. Powdered cheeks were pressed against powdered cheeks in good-bye. A wonderful time had been had, it was agreed, and a ridiculous amount of money had been raised, breaking records from last year, even. All around the St. Regis Ballroom, Mimi's text messages were being delivered. For select vampire teens, the evening had just begun.
After-party. Angel Orensanz. Midnight. Masks A Must. No Text. No Entry.
There was a buzzing through the crowd by the cloakroom and the elevators among the invitees, as well as cries of confusion and disappointment among those who had not received the text.
"Are you going to change?" Bliss asked Mimi, following her out the door.
"Are you crazy? I'm going to wear this dress until they pry it off my cold dead body," Mimi joked. "Come upstairs. We have the best selection of masks."
Mimi was in high spirits. The ball had been a blast and all, but now it was time to par-tay.
Schuyler walked out to the sidewalk, hugging her black fur coat, an old one of Cordelia's, around her shoulders. She found Julius, her grandmother's driver, waiting patiently for her by the curb in the old Crown Victoria.
"Where to?"
She was about to say "home" when her phone buzzed. Oliver, for sure. Nope. It was a text message from a blocked number.
