Misguided Angel bb-5

by Мелисса Де Ла Круз

  Sam Lennox popped out of the glom and gripped her shoulder. "Sorry. It was a good guess, though."

  A good guess but not good enough. Not the truth. She was back to the beginning. Back where she had started. In the dark. Nowhere. The Lennox brothers were being kind, but their disappointment said it all.

  "By the way, as soon as you can, the Regent wants to see you in her office," Sam said quietly.

  When she arrived at headquarters, Deming was ushered into a small waiting room. She was made to wait for a few hours, with nothing but the drone of

  FNN on the television screen and old magazines to keep her company. Finally Mimi's secretary arrived. "She's ready for you now, dear," Doris said.

  Deming entered the office and took a seat across from the massive desk. The Regent was certainly in a foul mood. The Venator thought she had never seen a person with a blacker affectus, and steeled herself for a tongue-lashing.

  But after a heavy silence, Mimi only sighed. "You're very lucky. Piper's so traumatized from learning about Victoria's death that the Crandalls have decided not to file a complaint."

  "I assume complete responsibility. If you'd like me to resign . . ." Deming said, looking squarely at her superior with her head held high. What happened that morning was a blow to her ego, but she had no time for self-pity. She felt a huge amount of shame, and promised herself she would make it up to Piper by bringing Victoria's real murderer to justice.

  "No. I don't accept. We need you more than ever. While you were breaking down your suspect, this arrived in my in-box." Mimi flipped her screen around so Deming could watch. This time, the video was much shorter. It was just a freeze frame of a bound and shackled vampire. But the message was the same. On the eve of the crescent moon, watch the vampire burn.

  "Who is it?" Deming asked, stoic in the face of this new disaster.

  "Stuart Rhodes. Duchesne senior. He's been missing since Rufus King's party in Connecticut. Saturday night. You were there, weren't you?"

  "Yes." Deming reviewed her memories from that evening, but she had been so busy with Bryce she hadn't paid attention to anyone else, hadn't noticed anything odd. Stuart Rhodes. Who was Stuart Rhodes? He wasn't part of the in-crowd. But it had been a tasting party, which meant every Blue

  Blood at Duchesne was usually invited. Deming had a vague memory of a small, quiet boy standing to the side, watching everyone from behind glassbottom lenses.

  "Anyway, it's the same thing. Just like Victoria's video," Mimi said.

  "Is there any link between Victoria Taylor and Stuart Rhodes?"

  "As far I know, none. Stuart is not . . . Well, let's just say he had his own friends," Mimi said delicately.

  "You think this is random, then?"

  The Regent shrugged. "Isn't that for you to find out? Anyway, just like before, his location has been masked. We can't find him in the glom."

  "This thing's on the Internet?" she asked, motioning to the screen.

  Mimi nodded. "Yes, but the Conspiracy's working to add the Suck movie tagline on it. That should be up within an hour."

  "Good, that takes care of exposure."

  "But it doesn't help us find our victim," Mimi pointed out. "You heard the video, and this time we only have three days until the next crescent moon. I've managed to keep the Conclave unaware of this new hostage for now. I can't take the wards down again; not that it helped us any last time. So start doing what I brought you here to do. You'd better come up with something, Chen! Find me my killer! Find Stuart! Or I swear to God when the Coven dies, I'll take you down with me." The Regent did not need the help of the glom to look like a wrathful Angel of Death just then.

  But Deming remained unperturbed in her seat. "Understood."

  "You seem awfully confident," Mimi huffed. "What are you planning?"

  "What I should've done the minute I arrived in New York. A DeathWalk."

  THIRTY-SIX

  Background Checks

  The next morning the Lennox brothers listened intently as Deming outlined what they would need to help her prepare for the mission. After yesterday's humiliation she had believed she would never be able to work in New York again, that her fellow Venators would demand she be taken off the case and shipped back directly to China. Instead the brothers were being extraordinarily understanding. It happened all the time, they assured her. Venator work was not infallible. They made mistakes. What was important was that they kept trying.

  The plan was for the three of them to enter the glom together, with Sam keeping an eye out for danger and staying at the top level, while Ted would follow her as far as he could into the spirit trail, stopping just below the subconscious layer. Once Deming flatlined she would be able to go underneath the masking spell, locate Stuart, and pull his body out of the real world and into the glom, where the boys would be waiting to help, and then the four of them would jump out together.

  "Still sounds risky," Sam said, shaking his head. "Once you're in the protoconscious, you're on your own, and you might not be able to get back into your body in time."

  "Yes, technically I'll be dead for five minutes and my heart will stop beating. But five minutes out here is like five hours in the glom. I'll have plenty of time."

  "It's your call."

  Deming nodded. "We'll do it tomorrow night. I need a day to get ready."

  To prepare for a DeathWalk she had to familiarize herself with every aspect of her victims' current and past incarnations. Given the immortal history of the Blue Bloods, one could never predict what one might find in a DeathWalk, and it was best to be prepared. She had a hunch Stuart Rhodes was not a random victim even though he had no apparent link to Victoria Taylor. From her innumerable cycles as a Truth Seeker, Deming knew that things were rarely as they seemed, and while it might appear on the surface that Victoria Taylor and Stuart Rhodes had no connection to each other, the reality was usually a lot more complicated.

  Stuart Rhodes's cycle mother was out of the county, and Deming left a message with her assistant to call her back as soon as Mrs. Rhodes was able.

  In the meantime, Victoria Taylor's cycle mother agreed to meet Deming for a cup of coffee that afternoon. Even if there was nothing more she could do for

  Victoria, Deming thought maybe the cycle parents would know something that might help her current case, to see if there was any connection between the two victims.

  She met Gertrude Taylor at the MOMA cafe that afternoon. Gertrude was one of the museum's premier trustees, a hard-working Committee member.

  The Taylors had been told of Victoria's demise but had been denied the ability to grieve, as the Regent had insisted on keeping everything classified until the case was solved. According to the Venator reports, the Taylors were hands-off parents who barely knew their daughter, so Deming did not know what to expect.

  "How lovely to meet you." Gertrude smiled and took a seat at the bustling cafe.

  "Thanks for meeting me, Mrs. Taylor."

  "Oh, it's Gertrude, and I know you're not a student at Duchesne, really. You're the Venator they brought in to find out who did this to Victoria, yes?"

  "I aim to." Deming nodded.

  "Good." Gertrude stirred her green tea. Up close, Deming could see the deep lines around her eyes. While the woman gave every outward indication of serenity and contentment, her face bore a shadow of sorrows that no amount of plastic surgery or vampire genes could mask. The reports were wrong.

  This woman was clearly suffering. "Victoria was our first. We've never been asked to carry a spirit before. Our names came up in the House of Records and we were thrilled. Victoria was the most sweet-tempered child. She always had so many friends. I can't imagine how anyone would want to harm her, especially someone who knew her."

  "What about an earlier cycle? Was there anything in her past that might indicate . . . a grudge? A weakness? Anything?"

  "I don't recall."

  Deming took out her notepad. "When was her last incarnation? Did she tell you?"

  "
Let me see. I think when the Transformation began and Victoria started having the blood memories, she said she believed she was last in cycle in

  Florence, around the fifteenth century or so--she remembered being in Michelangelo's studio. The House of Records would have her file, I should think.

  Sometimes the blood memory isn't so reliable at her age."

  "Thanks very much, you've been really helpful."

  "No, thank you. The Conclave has kept us in the dark about all this, but we're very glad to hear they've put someone of your caliber in charge."

  Gertrude Taylor rose from the table and shook Deming's hand, her eyes bright with tears. For a moment she did not look like an intimidating society matron or a fallen angel, merely a mother mourning her daughter.

  A few hours later, Stuart Rhodes's mother finally returned Deming's call. The Rhodeses were anthropologists, and currently in Egypt for a dig. From reading Stuart's file, Deming observed that he had practically raised himself. Once the Transformation set in, he was barely supervised.

  Amelia Rhodes did not seem particularly distraught over her son's disappearance. "Sounds as if it's just some kind of prank, doesn't it?" she asked over the roar of helicopters. "I spoke to Stuart just a few days ago. He was going to some party and was pretty excited about it. He doesn't get invited out much, you know."

  "I'm afraid it's not a prank, ma'am. The Regent has given me permission to inform you that what has happened to Stuart happened to another student at Duchesne, another vampire in our community." Deming filled her in on the gory details. "Stuart is in grave danger."

  "Well, what do you want us to do? We didn't ask for this."

  "You didn't petition the House of Records for a cycle birthing?" Deming asked.

  "A long time ago. In my past life I thought I should try to experience being a mother. By the time they got around to my number, I was bored of the idea."

  "If there's anything you can tell us about him, it would be helpful in saving his life. Do you remember if he was beginning to have any indication of his past incarnations? Of when he was in cycle last?"

  "He did mention it, but I can't remember. Somewhere in Europe, maybe? I'm sorry. You will find him, won't you? Before they burn him like they did this poor girl? I have become quite fond of the boy. With our work, his father and I don't get to see him that often, but we do miss him."

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  The House of Records

  That night Deming studied her case files again, paying close attention to the notes on the obscure message the Venators had found in the original video.

  She had dismissed it as a mere distraction at first but now she took a second look. The head of the Repository believed they had cracked the code and that the three images--Lucifer's sigil, the sheep, which stood for humanity, and the symbol for union--indicated that the Morningstar was in league with Red

  Bloods. If so, it meant that whoever had made the video and had taken the hostages was part of this movement. A human in service to Croatan? It was simply unheard of, which was why she had ignored it as a diversion. To think that it might be real unsettled the usually stoic Venator.

  Before sunrise, she crept into Duchesne to pick up her lucky jade turtle from her locker--it was a silly superstition but she didn't want to do a

  DeathWalk without it. Her twin had bought them the tiny figurines in a Hong Kong market, and Deming had made it a habit to bring the little guy wherever she went. She wanted to slip in and out without anyone noticing or asking any questions. With the early hour, the school was empty save for the janitors, so she was surprised to bump into Paul Rayburn walking out of the third-floor library with a cart of books. The junior lockers were located right across from the library doors.

  "Paul, hey," she said.

  "Oh hey," he said, his affectus turning the usual shade of orange in her presence.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "I'm a library aide. Part of the work study program," Paul said, jangling keys. "I try to get my work done before school. It's better than staying late." He looked sleepy and tired, and Deming was moved by how much effort being a student at Duchesne must have cost him. It couldn't be easy to be poor around such wealth.

  She felt the now-familiar stirrings of bloodlust in his presence, but his shy smile invoked a different reaction as well, one that went deeper than the impulse to drink his blood. "It's not even morning yet," she said as she stuffed her files into her book bag. She realized that her heart hurt a little, knowing that after today she would probably never see him again. Once she found Stuart, and she was certain she would, her assignment would be complete and she would leave the country.

  It was a pity, since she felt something for Paul, a queasy mixture of desire and affection that she could not figure out. And it scared her because her life until now had been about order and discipline. Her feelings for him were a distraction. They would only cloud her judgment, if they hadn't already. The best Venators were unencumbered by emotion, and Deming strove to be the best.

  "Yeah, well." He shrugged. "I'm used to it. What brings you here so early?"

  "Honestly, I couldn't sleep," she told him.

  "Maybe we can catch up later? When we're both awake?"

  She was about to shake her head when it occurred to her that maybe instead of running away from her feelings she should see where this was going so she could completely shut it down. "I'd like that. How about this time tomorrow? A sunrise breakfast?"

  Paul gave her a dazzling smile that made Deming momentarily forget she had asked him to meet her only so she could crush any romantic ideas he might harbor about the two of them.

  Only when he left did she realize she had forgotten to ask him about what he'd told her about Victoria, Bryce, and Piper. She wanted to know where he had heard that piece of false information.

  The House of Records was located in the midtown headquarters, in a restricted section of the Repository. The clerk stared balefully at the black-clad

  Venator as he handed over a yellowing stack of paper. "Regent sign the warrant?"

  "I have it right here," Deming said, handing over the certificate with Mimi's flowery signature. The Regent had agreed to open the file just for this instance.

  "Privileged information, this is. Not just anything everyone should know," the walleyed clerk grumbled.

  "I understand that. That's why I have a warrant," Deming said patiently.

  "Take the fourth cubicle."

  "Thank you."

  Deming settled into her desk and began to page through the cycle birth records for Victoria Taylor and Stuart Rhodes. Looking into an immortal's past cycles was verboten in the Coven. The Code of the Vampires decreed that each vampire come into the knowledge of past lifetimes on their own, through the Blood Manifest--not through looking up files and records in a library. Lawrence Van Alen had been instrumental in preaching that identities came from within--that even if you had lived an immortal life, recorded diligently by scribes since the dawn of time, it was still your duty to discover your destiny on your own rather than have your past handed to you on typewritten sheets.

  STUART RHODES

  Birth Name: Hollis Stuart Cobden Rhodes

  Known Past Lives: Piero d'Argento (Florence)

  VICTORIA TAYLOR

  Birth Name: Victoria Alexandra Forbes Taylor

  Known Past Lives: Stefana Granacci (Florence)

  That was interesting. Both Victoria Taylor and Stuart Rhodes were last in cycle in the same place and during the same time period. So even if they did not know each other in the present, there was a distinct possibility they had known each other in the past. It couldn't be a coincidence.

  In any event, once she was in the glom she would find Stuart, apprehend his abductors, and she would finally have her answers.

  Deming left the Repository, her head bowed low. The Lennox boys were meeting her back at Venator headquarters in an hour, and she would have a little time to get herself ready before they arrived. She we
nt through a checklist in her head; she would have to remember to wear something warm. The last time she had woken up from the procedure, she had been shaking with cold.

  She would call her twin. She wanted to hear Dehua's voice, and not just in the glom. Just another superstition, like the green turtle she held in her hand. Other than that, there was nothing else; she was ready to walk into the valley of the shadow.

  As she waited for the light to change, she recognized a car parked across the street. It was the same one that had taken her home Saturday evening.

  Paul was at the wheel. She was about to wave to him when she saw he wasn't alone. There was a girl with him.

  There was something familiar about the girl getting out of the car.

  Then Deming realized.

  She was Victoria Taylor.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Confessions

  For a moment Deming was too stunned to move, but recovered quickly so that in a flash she was not only in Paul's car, she had a hand on the wheel.

  "Pull over," she demanded.

  Paul jumped. He looked terrified to see her appear out of nowhere. "How did you--?" he asked, barely missing hitting a speeding taxicab. Deming turned the wheel toward the curb, and the car came to a crashing stop.

  "That girl you were with. Who was she?" Deming did not have time for any more lies and nonsense. She wanted to get to the bottom of this. Now.

  She'd had a choice between following the girl and confronting Paul, and she chose to hear the truth from him.

  "What girl?"

  "The girl who got out of your car back there. Victoria Taylor." It was Victoria, she was sure. Deming had studied her photograph numerous times and had memorized the girl's face. She would know Victoria anywhere.

  Paul scoffed. "Victoria? Isn't she in like, Switzerland or something?"

  "You're lying. You've been lying since the beginning," she said softly. She didn't need to interrogate him to know. "That whole thing with Piper and