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So far Oliver's family had been left alone, aside from their every move being tracked by the Venators: phones bugged, accounts analyzed. Oliver's parents told him on one of their rare satellite phone calls that they couldn't go to Dean & Deluca without feeling they were being watched.
Oliver took a gulp from his big Foster's can. "I think we can buy them."
Schuyler stacked her empty cup into her empty bowl. "Excuse me?"
"Pay them off. The Conclave needs money. They're pretty much broke. My parents have a ton. I can buy my way out of it, I know I can."
Why was she arguing? Oliver was telling her what she wanted to hear, that they could go home, and yet it frightened her.
"I don't want to go."
"You're lying. You want to go home. I know it. And we are. End of discussion," Oliver said.
"I'm booking us on the next flight back. I won't hear anything else."
Oliver didn't speak to her for the rest of the evening. She fell asleep with a crick in her neck from the tension. Why was she being so stubborn, she wondered as she drifted off to sleep. Oliver only wanted the best for her.
Why are you being so stubborn?
Schuyler opened her eyes.
She was in New York, in her bedroom. The faded Broadway Playbill covers that lined the walls were yellow and curling at the edges.
Her mother was sitting on her bed.
This was a dream. But not the usual one. A dream about her mother. She didn't think about her much anymore. She hadn't even had time to say good-bye when they had left New York last year.
It was the first time she'd seen her mother since Allegra had appeared on Corcovado holding a sword.
Allegra looked at Schuyler sternly.
"He is right, you know. The Conduits always are. You cannot live this way. The transformation will kill you without the proper guidance and care. You cannot risk your life like this."
"But I can't go home," Schuyler said. "As much as I want to, I can't."
"Yes you can."
"I can't!" Schuyler rubbed her eyes.
"I know you are afraid of what will happen when you return. But you must face your fear, Schuyler. If you and Abbadon are meant to be, then there is nothing that any-one, not him, not even you, can do to stop it."
Her mother was right. She didn't want to go home because then Jack would be so, so, so very close. Jack, who was still free... Jack, who had kissed her so passionately... who could still be hers.... But if she kept away, then she wouldn't be tempted to see him and betray Oliver.
"You cannot be with someone just because you don't want to hurt him. You have your own happiness to think about," Allegra said.
"But even if we're together, it will only kill Jack," Schuyler said. "It's against the Code. And he'll diminish..."
"If he will take the risk to be with you, who are you to tell him what to do with his life? Look at me. Look at how much I risked to be with your father."
"My father is dead. And you're in a coma. I practically grew up an orphan," Schuyler said, not even trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She had never known her father, he had died before she was born. As for Allegra? well, there wasn't much of a relationship anyone could have with a living corpse, now was there. 'tell me, Mother, was it worth it? Was your "great" love for my father worth what has happened to your family?"
She couldn't keep herself from saying such hurtful things. But everything spilled out after years of living alone.
She loved her mother, she did. But she didn't want an angel who only appeared once in a lifetime to give her some enchanted sword. Schuyler wanted a real parent: one who was there for her when she cried, who encouraged and prodded and annoyed her, a little bit, only because they cared so much. She wanted someone ordinary. Like Oliver's mom. She had no idea how Mrs. H-P knew where they would be, but every few months a package would arrive at their hotel, and inside would be chocolates and new socks and things they didn't even know they needed, like flashlights and batteries.
Allegra sighed. "I understand your disappointment in me. I hope that one day you will understand and forgive. There are consequences to every action. It is true, I have deep, deep regrets sometimes. But without your father I would never have had you. I was only with you for such a brief moment of time, but I treasured every moment, with you and your father. I would do it all over again if I had to. So yes. It was worth it."
"I don't believe you," Schuyler said. "No one in their right mind would choose your life."
