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Schuyler said, raising her hands to her face in wonder. Had she simply been homesick, as Dr. Pat had said? That her blood had called to her own kind? Was that all it was? Truly? That she was close to a coven once again?
"Good," Oliver said. "Well. You have my cell. You can call me anytime. You know that."
"I'll miss you," Schuyler said. "I already miss you."
But they had to do this, to keep the other safe.
"Well. Have fun," he said reluctantly, and with one final hug, he was out the door.
As she unpacked the groceries, she noticed Oliver had left his mail among the stack of papers for Schuyler's new apartment.
There was a thick white envelope stuck in the middle of the bills and magazines. It didn't have a stamp, which meant it had come directly from someone in the Conclave. They always hand-delivered their correspondences.
It was an invitation to a bonding, Schuyler saw, and without having to check, she knew that the address embossed on the back would be the Force town house.
CHAPTER 44
Mimi
The Starbucks at the corner of Fifth and Ninety fifth had closed, so Mimi had to walk a few more blocks to EuroMill, a fancy new coffee "boutique" that had recently opened. The EuroMill had taken the gourmet coffee culture to a new level. They had a fat binder where a customer could choose the bean, the roasting, even the way the flavor was "extracted" (hand-drip, siphon, French press, or "solo"). The place resembled an art gallery: white walls with square blackboards, the coffee grinders and espresso machines polished to a gleam, mirroring the artwork on display.
"How can I help you?" the nose-ringed barista asked.
"La Montana, slow clover," Mimi said, meaning she wanted a cup of the El Salvador roast through the no-sediment French press. "two of them. To go. Oh, and one of those," she said, pointing to a chocolate croissant behind the glass display.
A sharp whistle drew her attention. At one of the middle tables, among the writers typing on laptops and the private-school crowd angling for their breakfast lattes, sat the rest of her former Venator team.
"Hey, guys," Mimi said with a smile. Had it only been a month since the four of them had battled Brazilian drug gangs and Silver Bloods in the jungle?
She was gifted with a rare grin from the Lennox boys, who soon took their leave. Ted slapped her on the back, even.
"Force." Kingsley nodded. He kicked the chair next to him away from the table so she could sit down.
"Let me guess. Caf¨¦ con leche? Four sugars?" Mimi smirked as she tried to still the butterflies in her stomach.
They hadn't seen each other since landing in New York. What happened in Rio stayed in Rio, wasn't that how the saying went? If she'd thought Kingsley would seek her out afterward, she'd been wrong. What did she care anyway? It hadn't mattered back then, and it sure didn't matter now.
Kingsley raised his cup to hers. "Back to school, I take it? Senior year?" He teased. "You know, it's a funny thing... I never did go to high school. I mean, not in any real sense. The first time I went was when I got assigned to the Duchesne case."
"Don't tell me you miss it," she joked. She wondered how old Kingsley was. Silver Bloods were like Enmortals, they were free of the cycles. They didn't age, almost as if they were frozen in time. She knew a little about Kingsley's history: he had been corrupted by a Silver Blood in Rome, but had been forgiven by Michael himself and welcomed back into the Blue Blood community.
"Maybe a little. The little announcements at the start of the day. All that peer counseling. Very self-actualizing." He grinned to let her know he was making fun, but not making fun of her.
The barista yelled from the counter. 'Two clovers?"
"That's mine" Mimi said, collecting her order. Some things didn't change: even if this was no Starbucks, the coffee still came in a cup the size of a pitcher. "I should go or I'll be late," she told Kingsley.
She picked up her satchel and swung it over her shoulder, holding the two drinks in a cardboard carrier.
"I heard about the bonding," Kingsley said quietly. He put down his coffee cup and signaled to the waitress for another.
"Forsyth told you."
"Indeed. He explained that since Charles is still MIA, he's giving you away."
"So? What of it?" she challenged.
Kingsley smiled sweetly. "Nothing. I just wanted to congratulate you. You'll make a beautiful bride."
