Read Misguided Angel Page 8


  “If they find out who we are,” Sam said, “who knows what could happen. The Conclave has always made certain that our existence remain invisible to their world. Because if not—”

  “It can’t happen, regardless,” Ted said, interrupting his brother’s thought. “We’re going to shut this down.”

  “From what we can tell, the person who made this video is a human who’s close to our community,” Sam said gravely. “A familiar is unlikely, since the Caerimonia seals the human’s loyalty to his or her vampire partner; a human familiar is rendered incapable of doing harm. So it’s got to be someone else. A human who knows everything about us and yet is not bound to a vampire. We’ve checked the records to see what humans, if any, have access to the Kip residence, and the Conduits are our best guess. It’s a stretch, but they are given keys to the Repository, which means they could possibly have access to hellfire.”

  Hellfire was kept under the Conclave’s highest security in the deepest basement of the Repository. It was almost impossible to think that a lowly Conduit would be able to break in without alerting the Venator guard, but there was no other explanation right then.

  Mimi sucked in her cheeks. “You will interrogate all the Conduits. Torture them if you have to. Do not spare them any mercy.”

  “That’s the thing we want to talk to you about. We’re planning to scan their memories, of course. But someone who’s made something like this knows how we work and is likely to have planned ahead and may have protected themselves. As Conduits, they are taught a little knowledge of the glom, and a little knowledge goes a long way.”

  “How about if one of their own interviews them, trips them up somehow?” Mimi suggested, thinking immediately of Oliver. “I have just the person to ask.” She had read the glowing reports from the Repository. He had a high reputation for loyalty and discretion. Plus, if he reported directly to her, she could keep a closer eye on him and monitor his communications. But getting him to agree to help was another matter. If only she hadn’t been so rude to him the other day. This was going to be tricky, she could already tell.

  “Could work, why not?” Sam Lennox agreed.

  Lane rapped on the table. “That sounds like a plan. Are we done here? I’m meeting my editor for lunch at Michael’s and I’m late. We’re talking sequel.”

  “More roses?” Annabeth teased.

  “A veritable rose parade of the undead, my friends.” Lane raised his fist in a show of solidarity. “The Conspiracy lives!”

  Warden Corrigan coughed into his handkerchief.

  “Looks like the Venators have it covered. On our end, we’ll make sure the Web is all over this movie. We’ll squash any suggestion it might be ‘real.’ Although it might make for good publicity,” Harold said, looking meaningfully at Josephine, who nodded.

  “Good point,” Mimi said. “Josephine, you’ll start production on that movie. Lane, Harold, Annabeth, continue doing what you’ve been doing. Thank you for taking the time to meet with us.” Mimi bid Conspiracy members good-bye as they filed out of the room, shaking Seymour Corrigan’s hand as he left.

  “Too many members of the Conspiracy think their jobs are nothing but propaganda and artifice. This abduction is serious business,” the Warden said.

  Mimi nodded. “We’ll find whoever’s behind this. You have my word.”

  “And us? What about the other assignment?” Ted asked, gathering his papers.

  “You mean my brother?” Mimi asked as Warden Corrigan shuffled out.

  Sam nodded. “We have word that he is no longer under the protection of the Countess. We were about to start a more exhaustive search.”

  Mimi sighed. She wanted more than anything to set the Venator twins loose on Jack and Schuyler. Bring that traitor brother of hers to heel. Talk about burning. But she knew it would have to wait. She couldn’t turn her back on poor Victoria Taylor.

  “No. Focus on this for now. We need to find this girl. And whoever made this video.”

  Ted saluted her. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”

  The team disbanded, and Mimi lingered at the table, drumming her fingers. She felt a rush of the old excitement running through her veins. She was suddenly not paralyzed by hate, or stifled by an inchoate frustration; she was filled with purpose. She was going to find whoever did this and crush them under the point of her spiked heels. And she would enjoy it. No one threatened the vampires. No one.

  SEVENTEEN

  Recruit

  As Mimi predicted, Oliver ignored her request to meet, so she had to track him down the following afternoon. He was still a student at Duchesne so it wasn’t that hard. She found him standing in front of his locker, putting away his trumpet after practice. Duchesne didn’t have anything as common as a marching band, but it did have a student orchestra that performed at the Kennedy Center every year.

  “I didn’t know you played,” she said.

  “You don’t know a lot of things about me,” Oliver grumbled. “What do you want, Force? Got another lamp to break?”

  Mimi crossed her arms in front of her chest and frowned. “Why didn’t you come to my office yesterday afternoon like my secretary asked you to?”

  He shrugged and picked up his book bag. “I figured you wanted the same thing, and the answer’s still no.”

  His disrespect annoyed her, and although she knew it wouldn’t help to antagonize him any further, she couldn’t resist. “Why do you still keep a picture of her in your locker? It’s pathetic, you know. It’s not like she cares about you. Not anymore. If she ever did.”

  Oliver sighed noisily. He rolled his eyes to the heavens. “Please stop talking.”

  “Like I said yesterday, you should know better than to think a vampire would ever truly care for their familiar. I mean, of course her mother’s actions appear to suggest otherwise, but never in the history of the Coven has that ever happened before, and believe me—”

  “Shut up, Force. You have no idea what you’re talking about. And anyway, is that why you’re here? To needle me about Schuyler? Don’t you have anything better to do, like save the world from lunatic Silver-Blooded vampires?” He shut his locker and started to walk down the hallway, and Mimi had to run to keep up with him. The two of them garnered a few curious looks from the other students. Everyone knew they couldn’t stand each other.

  Mimi blocked his way and whispered in order to dissuade any potential eavesdroppers. “Look, you must have heard that the Conspiracy met yesterday.”

  “Yeah. I saw the trailer on the Internet. Looks like Josephine Mara’s up to her tricks again. Some new movie, sure to ‘suck,’” he said, using air quotes to make his point.

  “That’s what we want everyone else to think. The video’s real.”

  Oliver stopped and stared at her. “Wait a minute. What do you mean it’s real? As in . . .”

  “As in the Coven has had its first real security breach in a hundred years. That’s Victoria Taylor in the video. It was taped at Jamie Kip’s apartment; he had a little get-together to celebrate his eighteenth. She’s been missing since the night of the party. We have five days to find her before they burn her alive.”

  “But what do you need me for?” Oliver asked. “Don’t the Venators have this in the bag?”

  “Whoever did this knows how we operate. So we have to do something else. We need you to talk to the other Conduits—find out who might have squealed, who was at the party, who holds a grudge against us.”

  Oliver shook his head and raised an eyebrow. “But why should I help you?”

  “You’re a Repository scribe. You work for me.”

  “Not quite true,” he said, maneuvering around Mimi. It was November in New York, and the air was chilly. Oliver huddled in his thin wool jacket. “I work for the Repository, which is under Renfield’s jurisdiction.

  You’re going to need to get a transfer from him to let me work for the Regent’s office. I guarantee you it’s going to take three months to get one. Renfield is very strict about
policy and procedure. He doesn’t like you vampires pushing him around.”

  Mimi gritted her teeth. Oliver was right. That old human coot wouldn’t just assign her Oliver—he would make a lot of bureaucratic red tape.

  “Okay, then! You should help me because there’s someone in trouble and I know you’re a good guy, and you’re not about to let a vampire die.”

  “Vampires don’t die,” Oliver pointed out. “They get recycled to suck for another day. Pun definitely intended. Or don’t you know your own history?”

  “Whoever this is has the Black Fire; it will burn the blood,” Mimi stressed. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  “Why should I care?” Oliver snapped. “It’s not my problem. I’m sorry, but the answer is no. Send the transfer request to Renfield. I’ll see you in three months.”

  Mimi was a little taken aback. Clearly the Repository had overestimated the depth of his loyalty to the Coven. She couldn’t understand why he was being so antagonistic. Was it simply annoyance, a personal dislike for her, or lingering resentment over being left behind by Schuyler? Whatever it was, Mimi realized she did not care. He was being needlessly stubborn. This wasn’t about the two of them, or whatever personal animosity they shared. An immortal life was on the line.

  “Good God, Perry! Do you even know what you’re saying?” Mimi cried. Her outburst caused several people in the courtyard to turn in their direction. Mimi glared at them. She wanted to stamp her feet, but she held her emotions in check. She was strong enough to lead an army of angels into battle, but she couldn’t get one foolish Red Blood to see things her way? She decided to try something completely alien to her. “Look, I know what’s going on, I know . . . that just like me, you’re hurting.” There. She’d admitted it.

  Oliver continued to sulk, but Mimi pressed on. “I just think that—well, that maybe working on this will stop the pain for a bit. Give you something else to think about.” She ran her hands through her hair in exasperation. “It’s helping me, so maybe it’ll help you. Even just a little.”

  Oliver fingered his jacket and sighed. “Well, it would help if you would ask once in a while. Instead of just demanding like you usually do.”

  “What do you mean?” Mimi asked, her eyes narrowed.

  “I mean, you could ask nicely. You know, instead of threatening and throwing your weight around like some kind of Third World dictator. All you need is the little red cap and the epaulets and the aviators,” he said, waving his hand over her. “You come across like a blond Idi Amin.”

  “Who’s he? Never mind. You mean, like, ‘Please, Oliver, will you help me find the traitor?’”

  “Exactly.”

  Now it was Mimi’s turn to roll her eyes. “Very well. Please, Oliver, will you help me find the traitor?” She felt like a three-year-old scolded by her parents for her lack of manners.

  Oliver smiled. “Was it that hard, Mimi? Don’t answer. I know it was. But of course I’d be glad to help, since you asked. What else do I have to do?”

  EIGHTEEN

  The Usual Suspects

  As a rule, Mimi did not enjoy the company of Red Blood boys unless they were tasty. She’d had her fill of quite a few familiars to get through the stressful week. But unless she was chomping on someone’s neck and consuming their blood, she had absolutely no interest in them. So it surprised her to find she did not detest Oliver as much as she thought she would, and that working with him wasn’t the torture she had expected it to be. They had four days left before the crescent moon appeared, and Mimi was relieved to find that, as she had heard, Oliver was a thorough and apt investigator. By the next morning, he had already rounded up the Conduits who had been at Jamie Kip’s party.

  Since only a handful of Blue Blood families still kept to the practice, there were only four Conduits in the city who could have attended the party without arousing suspicion from the other guests and pulled off the stunt. Oliver brought each suspect into a small room in the Repository that the Venators used for questioning, while Mimi watched from the other side of the double-sided glass.

  Gemma Anderson took a seat across from Oliver. She was Christopher Anderson’s grandniece and Conduit to Stella Van Rensslaer. “What’s all this about?” she asked Oliver. “Stella said you wanted to see me as soon as possible. Have I done anything wrong? Is this about her and Corey? I told her she was draining him dry at the rate she was using. But Stella’s a vamp tramp; she’ll never learn.”

  Mimi was shocked at the flippant attitude Gemma displayed toward her betters. Is this what the Conduits said behind their backs? That the Blue Bloods were just a bunch of bloodsuckers? How rude!

  “No, this has nothing to do with Corey,” Oliver said. “Although if Stella is found in violation of the Forty-Eight-Hour Rest Period, the Committee will issue a reprimand. They’re not enforcing it currently, as they’ve got bigger things to worry about right now other than Familiar Care issues. This is about Conspiracy business.” He pulled up the video on his laptop and showed it to her.

  “Yeah, I’ve seen it, so what? Some doofus vampire decided to show off on the Internet. It was bound to happen once YouTube was invented. Props for the cover-up; everyone I know wants to see Suck. Watch the vampire burn, good one. That’ll scare the kiddies.” Gemma crossed her legs and twitched her ankles impatiently.

  Oliver shrugged as if to say it didn’t matter either way. “I understand you were at Jamie’s the night this was filmed?”

  That got Gemma’s attention. “That’s from Jamie’s party?” She looked at the screen again. “Oh my God, it is. Yeah, we were there.”

  “Did you notice anything unusual?” Oliver asked. “Anyone with a video camera? They’re tiny these days.”

  She furrowed her brow and shook her head. “Not really. It all seemed like the usual bloodfest. Vampire shenanigans. Thrills and spills.”

  “When was the last time you saw Victoria that night?”

  Gemma paused. “I think I saw her go into the back room with Evan. You know, to have their privacy. And after that, I saw her hanging out with Bryce and Froggy at the keg. Stella and I had to leave to go to another party—she wanted to meet Corey at some Riverhead shindig downtown. Wait, did something happen to Vix? I haven’t seen her in school this week.”

  Oliver hesitated. “There was an incident yes. She came home at five in the morning blood-drunk. Her parents decided they weren’t happy with the company she was keeping at Duchesne and transferred her to Le Rosey, where her mother is an alum.” That was the story the Conclave was spinning, and from her vantage point behind the glass, Mimi hoped Victoria’s friends would buy it.

  “Really? They freaked that much? Her parents always seemed pretty cool.”

  “This isn’t about Victoria,” Oliver said. “The Conclave is concerned about the video leak. While it is fortunate that the Conspiracy was able to deal with the matter before any Red Bloods could get suspicious, they mean to discover who was behind it. You understand exposure is a very serious concern.”

  Gemma nodded impatiently. “Of course.”

  “Can I ask how you would describe your relationship to Stella?” he asked, with a raised pen.

  The pretty Conduit leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “I see now. The vampires think we did it. One of the human Conduits, am I right? That’s why you wanted to see me.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “No, but I’m here and I don’t see anyone asking Booze or Jamie or any of those guys a bunch of questions. Their blood is Blue so they’re above suspicion, while we’re just the honored servants entrusted with the Big Secret, I get it.” Gemma sighed. “All right, fine. I’ll tell you about my relationship with Stella. Other than the fact that she borrows too many of my clothes, we’re good friends. I mean—you know what I mean. Love her, hate her, it’s kind of the same thing.”

  “You don’t . . . resent her position over you?”

  Gemma huffed. “No, why would I? Stella’s a spoiled little vampir
e princess, but she’s my spoiled little vampire princess, you know? My family has worked for the Van Rensslaers for years. Stella’s like my sister—we understand each other. Don’t make me get emotional, but being a Conduit—it’s an honor, you know? Why would I ever do something like that? Make a video? Put it up on the Internet? It’s just . . . No.” She blinked back a few tears. “Honestly? I think we keep the vampires’ secrets better than they keep them themselves. Bryce and those guys are always showing off when they think no one is watching. Running too fast. Picking up a desk with one finger. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened earlier. Without those memory wipes they use like tissues, the whole world would know already.”

  The next three interviews were the same. The Conduits all professed the same shock, the same resentment at the insinuation that they would ever be capable of exposing the secrets of the vampires, the same annoyance at the very idea. Mimi didn’t need to read their minds or taste their blood to know they were telling the truth. She was moved by the fierce loyalty the Conduits displayed. Why had Charles stopped using them? She wished she knew. Mimi walked into the room after the last Conduit left. She took a seat across from Oliver. “So, what’s the verdict? Who’s our Judas?”

  “Well, it’s not a Conduit, at least we can rule that out. Whoever took Victoria and made the video, it isn’t one of them.” Oliver said, standing up from his chair and stretching his arms over his head. “Alibis are all airtight. Tech has found nothing on their computers, and the Venator scans came in clean.”

  “I know, I saw the reports too,” Mimi sighed. “They’re all so freaking loyal.”

  “What if we’re going about this the wrong way?” Oliver said.

  “How so?” Mimi raised an eyebrow.

  “Victoria’s been taken captive, and her familiar is missing too. The Venators think Evan isn’t capable, but what if . . .” Oliver returned to his seat. “He was her first human familiar, and they hadn’t been together long.