Hiring Lizbet Tilton was the best decision she could have made, Mimi thought, congratulating herself on her savvy. Lizbet ran a very tight ship, and in short order the venues were locked in on the requested dates, contracts drafted, budgets balanced, deposits made. Earlier that afternoon Trinity and Mimi had gone over color schemes and menus with the caterer and the interior designer. Everything was operating like clockwork; although you'd think it was the doomsday clock, the way Jack was acting.
"Do you know what this is about?" he asked, meeting Mimi in Trinity's sitting room the next evening.
Their "mother" - Mimi always thought of the word in air quotes, since Trinity was as much her mother as Jack was her brother - had requested their presence before dinner. She had intimated that she wanted to talk to them about something important concerning their bonding.
"I have a feeling." Mimi smiled. She ruffled Jack's hair, and in return he put a hand on her waist and drew her close to him. They had always been affectionate, and even though she was aware of his continuing duplicity, she could not harden her heart against him. Jack hadn't agreed to bonding so early in the cycle, but on the other hand, he hadn't done anything to stop it either.
Perhaps the dalliance with Schuyler was simply that. Jack was just using her as an amusement. A side dish. Mimi certainly understood. She had found a tasty new familiar, and had been so voracious in her appetite she had almost killed the boy the other day. He would be all right; nothing that rest and a week away from a certain blond vampire couldn't cure.
Mimi looked around with approval. Trinity's home office was famous among her set for being the most lavish and impeccable. Hung on the velvet walls were life-size portraits of seventeenth- and eighteenth-century aristocrats by Vig§ڥ-LeBrun and Winterhalter. There was an Erard piano in the corner - the very same one Chopin used to compose his etudes. The bonheurs du jour, a small, elegant writing table where Trinity wrote her one-word thank you cards ("Bravo!" was her usual exhortation after attending a friend's dinner party) was originally commissioned for the Grand Trianon.
Mimi decided that when she came into her massive inheritance, and she and Jack bought their own place at 740 Park, she would hire the same decorator.
A few minutes later, Trinity entered the room holding two long ebony boxes embossed with gold filigree. Mimi's senses shifted, her memories racing, and she suddenly knew why they were there. "But where's Charles?" she cried. "We can't do this without him, can we?"
"I tried, my dear. But he won't leave his study. He's just..." Trinity shook her shoulders ever so slightly. Mimi understood that her mother adhered to a rigid code of etiquette. As distressed as she might be about her husband's condition, she would never admit to it or show any outward display of exasperation. She was a woman who was fundamentally unequipped to make a scene.
Charles's deterioration since losing his position as Regis of the Coven was something that the Forces never spoke about. It baffled and troubled them, but there was nothing they could do about it. They assumed Charles would simply snap out of it one day. Meanwhile, the company and all its holdings was run by a highly efficient board of directors, who had stopped inquiring as to whether their chairman and founder would ever attend another meeting.
"It's all right," Jack assured his twin. He too knew what was about to happen and couldn't disguise the excitement in his voice. "We don't need him."
"Are you sure?" Mimi asked, looking disappointed. "But without the Archangel's blessing ..."
"They will be just as deadly," Jack soothed. "Nothing can change their power. Their power comes from the two of us." He nodded to Trinity. "Shall we begin, Mother?"
In answer, Trinity bowed her head. "I shall be honored to perform the rite." She closed the door quietly and dimmed the overhead lights. The boxes on the coffee table emanated a soft, hazy glow.
"I regret my hastiness in judging the precipitancy of your bonding. I was wrong, forgive me. It is perhaps only that I am saddened that I myself can no longer be bonded to my twin."
Mimi knew Trinity's story. Trinity was Sandalphon, the Angel of Silence. She had lost her twin to the Silver Bloods during the battle in Rome. Trinity had married Charles only in the Red Blood sense when his twin, Allegra, had broken their bond. It was a marriage of convenience, nothing more. Trinity mourned the angel Salgiel's passing still.
Trinity opened the cases. Nestled inside were two swords holstered in jeweled scabbards. Swords that would be worn underneath their garments at the bonding. Swords that they would now be allowed to use in the fight against the Croatan.
She picked up the first sword still in its scabbard and turned to Jack. "Kneel, Abbadon."
Jack stood up from his chair and walked to stand in front of Trinity. He knelt before her, his head bowed low.
Trinity raised the sword above her head. "With the authority of the Heavens vested in me, I, Sandalphon, confer upon you all the rights and privileges appertaining thereto as the true owner of Eversor Orbis."
World-Breaker.
She then tapped Jack's right and left shoulder with the sword. "Rise, Abbadon of the Dark."
Jack rose with a grim smile on his face as he accepted his sword. Trinity smiled proudly. Then she turned to Mimi.
"Kneel, Azrael."
Mimi took a moment to get in position, due to her high heels. Trinity picked up the second sword and once again raised it over her head.
"With the authority of the Heavens vested in me, I, Sandalphon, confer upon you all the rights and privileges appertaining thereto as the true owner of Eversor Lumen."
Light-Destroyer.
Mimi felt the sword tap her lightly on both shoulders. Then she stood up with a broad smile on her face. She turned to Jack, who nodded. Together the twins unsheathed their swords and lifted them aloft, pointing them to the Heavens.
"We accept these weapons as our divine right. Forged in Heaven, cast on Earth, they are our attendants in our search for Redemption."
Trinity joined them as they finished the litany of the Swords.
"Use them only in direst need.
"Keep them hidden from foes.
"Strike only to kill."
While they had received their swords at every bonding over the centuries, they had not been truly unsheathed in millennia. The Silver Bloods had been vanquished, or so they had believed. Mimi looked with wonder at the shining weapon in her hand. She remembered its weight and the sharpness of its blade. Remembered the terror it had once wrought in her enemies.
She noticed how Abbadon was holding his delicately, lovingly. One's sword was an extension of one's self. Unique, irreplaceable, unforgettable. Vampire swords changed shape and color and size. When needed they could become as wide as axes or as narrow as needles.
At the bonding, she would wear it on her hip, under the silk petticoats that would give her dress its shape.
Trinity turned the lights back to their full brightness. "All right, then." She nodded as if they had just finished talking about something small and trivial instead of having completed something wondrous and life-changing. In the afternoon light, with the sound of taxicabs zooming down the avenues and the metallic beeps from Trinity's fax machine (receiving yet another copy of a press clip in which she had been written up), it was hard to imagine the world as full of primitive, hidden dangers. How to reconcile a world with instant-messaging and twenty-four-hour news channels with the world of steel and blood.
But that is what their people did: they evolved, they adapted, they survived.
"Pretty cool, huh?" Jack asked, as they took leave of their mother and went their separate ways.
"You betcha." Mimi nodded, tucking the ebony case under her arm. She ran up to her room and shoved it in the back of her closet behind a rack of shoes.
She was late for Pilates. If she was going to be the most beautiful bride the Coven had ever seen, she'd better haul ass to her trainer's studio right away. She had arms to sculpt.
Cordelia Van Alen Personal File
Repository of History
CLASSIFIED DOCUMENT:
Altithronus Clearance Only
May 9, 1995
Dear Forsyth,
As you know, I have deeply appreciated your steadfast loyalty and friendship to the Van Alen family. It troubles me that we have been estranged of late due to your decision to run and hold a Red Blood office in direct violation of The Code. While I am not convinced you made the right choice, I respect it.
I am writing to beseech you to change your mind concerning your decision not to bring the new spirit of the Watcher into your family.
I must insist that you reconsider. We need vigilance more than ever, and the wisdom of the Watcher to guide us on our way. I fear Charles and his arrogance will bring nothing but doom to our people. Forsyth, I appeal to your friendship. Take the Watcher and your family. As a safeguard against the forces of the Dark.
Your friend, Cordelia Van Alen
