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Mimi put her head in her hands and thought so hard she worried her brain would explode. She had gone through all the books, looking up the history of the Regis, the history of leadership, actions in time of crisis, studying every decision that had been made to bring their Coven here to this moment. Myles Standish (Michael, Pure of Heart) had promised the Blue Bloods they would find safe haven in the new world, and in doing so had broken away from the European Coven. He had invoked the Regis Doctrine to do so. That was it. Mimi could do the same. She could do something if the Venators failed. Of course she could. There was always an answer. She was not helpless. The Code of the Vampires spelled it out in front of her.
The Regis Doctrine: The Regis or Regent must take every precaution to ensure the safety of the Coven by any means necessary.
It gave Mimi an idea. With the power of the Regis Doctrine, she could take down the wards. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? It was so simple, really. Whoever had taken Victoria was hiding her physical location, masking her signature in the glom. But with the wards down, every Blue Blood would be visible in the spirit world. It would override any masking spell put upon her, and the Venators would be able to pull Victoria out through the glom.
But it was a risk. The wards that protected the Coven concealed their immortal spirits in the glom and kept the sangre azul from the many dangers of the twilight world. Without the wards, they were practically Red Bloods. But it would only be for the briefest moment, Mimi thought—in and out and back again, in the blink of an eye. She would reinstate them the moment they got Victoria back.
She had to try it. If the Venators were unsuccessful, she would take down the wards. She hoped it would not come to that, but if it did, she would be ready. She was not going to let Victoria burn.
Still, even with the danger, Mimi’s life went on. Her social life especially. It would not do to miss too many of the usual engagements on her calendar. The Coven would begin to talk, then worry, then panic,
and she could not have that. There was enough gossip and agitation as it was, from everything that had happened the month before. She would have to calm the troops, show them there was nothing to worry about. They were still Blue Bloods, the enlightened ones, the blessed and the damned.
Tonight was the opening of an opera at Lincoln Center, and her presence was expected. Mimi turned off her computer. She had to go home and change. In her old life she would have relished the opportunity to wear a hot new dress and show off her jewelry. But now she only felt the dread of obligation. She wanted to be hunting for Victoria, in the Repository with Oliver, or in the glom with the Venators. Not going to some stupid society gala.
After their visit to the blood house, Mimi had decided to follow Committee rules concerning the care of human familiars. She’d located her first familiar, Scott Caldwell, now a senior at NYU, who remembered their affair like it was yesterday and was more than happy to squire her to the event. Scott was just the way she liked her familiars: handsome and dumb, and she hoped his complete inability to process his feelings would mean he would never end up at a blood house after she was done with him. He certainly seemed amenable enough, and looked dashing in a tuxedo.
They walked in, already a bit late, Mimi clutching the train on her ball gown so Scott wouldn’t trip on it. She waved to a few familiar faces: the newly bonded Don Alejandro and Danielle Castañeda, who were in from London; there was Muffie Astor Carter, looking serene in blush silk. Helen Archibald, wife to Conclave Elder Josiah Archibald, and one of the Coven’s leading matrons, accosted Mimi on her way down the ramp.
“Madeleine, I saw the Taylors yesterday at the ballet. Gertrude looked like hell. She wouldn’t tell me, but I heard that something terrible has happened, something to do with that awful video my son showed me. What on earth is going on?”
The Venators had warned Mimi that even after the Conspiracy had taken care of neutralizing the threat of exposure from the video, rumors were swirling that the Silver Bloods were behind it, which was creating rumblings of fear among the older families.
“It’s under control,” Mimi soothed. “The Conspiracy’s taken care of it. A few youthful high jinks, just some of the younger committee members getting creative.”
“Well, after what happened at your bonding, maybe disbanding the Coven is something we should consider. Maybe we would be safer . . . not so much a target . . . as before.”
“You would have us go into hiding again?” Mimi snapped. “I don’t know about you, but I like living aboveground.” Since the bonding disaster, there had been whispers among the Coven that perhaps it was time to disband, to go underground. Mimi dismissed it as fearmongering. She had no desire to relive the Dark Ages and was horrified to think that Conclave members would even consider it.
“Spoken like a true dark angel. You don’t care about anything but your own convenience,” Helen sneered. “You’ll put us all in danger. We won’t stand for it.”
Mimi was shocked. She was aware that not everyone in the Coven was happy to have Azrael as their Regent, and that many would never forget nor forgive her and Abbadon for their part in the revolt against the Almighty. Most probably still blamed them for their banishment. But to throw it in her face like this!
“Excuse me,” Mimi said, brushing Helen aside. She’d had enough of the society maven’s rudeness. Inside the auditorium the gongs were ringing, reminding guests to take their seats. She followed Scott toward the orchestra doors when her cell phone rang. Oliver calling.
“What is it?” she said testily. “They’re about to close the doors and you know they don’t do late seating at the Met.”
“Don’t worry. After you hear what I have to tell you, missing the first act will be the least of your concerns.”
TWENTY-TWO
Cabbages And Vines
I think we might have a lock on Victoria’s location,” Oliver said grimly. Since their trip to the blood house, he had received permission from Duchesne to miss class and was back to spending all day and night holed up in the Repository, reviewing the tapes, and had finally found a clue as to where she was being kept hostage.
“Ma’am? Will you be joining us?” the usher asked, looking impatient, with his hand on the double doors while Scott fiddled with his cuff links.
“Hold on,” she told Oliver, weighing the possibility of whispering into her cell phone while the tenor began his aria. But Trinity had raised her too well. Mimi waved her date inside. “Go ahead, I’ve got to take this. I’ll meet you at intermission.”
She walked away from the doors, toward the fountain. “We’ve found her?” she asked, pressing the phone to her ear in hopeful anticipation.
“Not yet. But we’re on our way.”
Mimi glared at the ushers who were shushing her. “Where?”
“The Carlyle Hotel.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
