CHAPTER 22
Bliss
The fashion show went well. Bliss managed to do her two turns on the runway without incident, even though she was still rattled by hearing the Visitor’s menacing voice in her head. What was he planning? What did he mean ‘they will be easy enough to overcome . . .’
But then, she knew what he’d meant, didn’t she? Wasn’t she just in denial about everything? Because there had to be a reason for the Visitor’s presence in her life; it wasn’t as if he was just hanging around so he could get to know his dear daughter better, was he? There was a reason he was here.
And whatever reason that was, she was involved because, for all intents and purposes, she was him. Whatever the Visitor did or did not do, they wouldn’t see Lucifer behind it, they would only see Bliss. Well, maybe she could do something about it. Maybe she should make the effort to find out what the Visitor was doing when he was away.
Maybe it would be a good idea not to be left in the dark so much. She massaged her temples. Thankfully, most of the other models had left her alone. They knew her story, and no one ventured to give her more than a few sympathetic looks. Bliss thought she might as well have the word ‘SURVIVOR’ stamped on her forehead from the way the girls whispered about her.
Stepmother murdered. Sister missing . . . presumed killed . . . Awful . . . These things do happen in Rio, don’t they? Bliss thought that was terribly unfair. What had happened to her family had nothing to do with the country they were in, but of course she couldn’t tell anyone that. She just wanted to get out here.
She changed out of her final outfit, a tulle ball gown that some grande dame would wear to the opening of the ballet in the fall, and put her plain white sundress back on. She was walking across the green lawn, ducking a few familiar faces and hoping she could just get back home without having to talk to anyone, when she heard her name being called.
“Bliss? Is that you? Hey?” A pretty girl with long blond hair, wearing a floppy straw hat and a chic one-shouldered dress, walked over. Bliss recognized the girl immediately. She was Allison Ellison, or Ally Elli, as she was called, one of the Red Bloods from Duchesne.
Ally was a scholarship kid; her parents lived in Queens or something, and she had to take some kind of two-hour bus to get to school. Bliss had assumed that meant Ally would be terribly unpopular, but she was the complete opposite. The Upper East Side kids dug her crazy outerborough stories and her funny way of looking at things. Bliss remembered that one time she and Mimi and a large group of people went out with Ally, and Ally made sure everyone paid exactly what they owed at the table, down to the last cent. No one got away with the whole “I forgot my wallet; you know you can hit me up next time? crap that trust-fund kids like Mimi always pulled.
It was one thing to see Ally at school, and another to see her at Muffie Astor Carter’s annual Shopping, Champagne, and Charity party. What was she doing here, wearing an original Balthazar Verdugo, sure to have cost five figures at least, looking like she had always summered in Southampton?
Bliss got her answer when Jamie Kip came up to give Ally a hug. So. Ally was a human familiar to one of the most popular Blue Blood boys. Now Ally’s expensive outfit and presence at the party made sense. “Hey, Ally.” Bliss nodded. “Jamie.”
Jamie excused himself with a cough, and the two girls were left alone. “How are you?” Allison asked. “It’s good to see you again.” The pretty blonde put a hand on Bliss’s arm.
Bliss was touched by the unexpected warmth in Ally’s voice. “I’m okay. . . . Thanks,” she told her.
“We missed you at Dylan’s memorial service,” Allison said. “But don’t worry, no one expected you or anything. Your dad said you needed to rest.”
“Memorial? There was a memorial? For Dylan? When?” Bliss asked, trying not to sound like she was about to freak out.
Allison looked uncomfortable. “Almost a year ago now. Yeah, I know. Weird, right? I mean, the guy disappeared, right? Supposedly his parents moved to Grosse Point or something, but then it turned out he was staying at Transitions but he had some sort of forty-eight-hour leave and he died from an overdose.”
Another cover-up, Bliss thought. The Blue Bloods covered their tracks well. Easy enough to explain Dylan’s death as another rich kid drug overdose. Especially since he was in rehab. An entirely plausible story, except that it wasn’t at all true.
Allison shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t even know him that well, but you guys were friends, weren’t you?”
“We were,” Bliss said. “Was it . . . How did . . . Was anyone else there?” The Duchesne girl looked embarrassed.
“No. Not really. There weren’t that many people. I think I was the only one from Duchesne. There were some people from the rehab center, but then they were the ones who organized it. I just happened to find out about it from Wes McCall. He’d been staying at Transitions too. I just thought . . . well, Dylan and I used to have English together and he was . . . a nice guy. A character. But nice, you know?”
“Yeah,” Bliss said. She found that her eyes were suddenly full of tears.
“Oh god, you’re crying. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Allison said. “Here.” She handed Bliss a scented handkerchief from her handbag.
“I’m okay . . . it’s just . . . it was complicated,” Bliss stammered, gladly taking the hanky and wiping her eyes.
“Life sure is.” Allison nodded. “But it’s good to see you . . . out. I mean, it must be so hard. I’m saying all the wrong things, aren’t I?”
“Not at all. It’s nice to be able to talk to somebody.” Bliss smiled.
“Well. You can always talk to me. You coming back to school in September?”
Bliss nodded. “Yeah. It’s weird to be held back. I don’t really know anyone anymore.” The Visitor had agreed that Bliss should go back to school. It would be odd if the senator’s daughter suddenly became a high school dropout.
“Well, you know me, and I’m in your class,” Allison said. “It won’t be so bad,” she said, giving Bliss a hug.
“That’s good to hear. Thanks, Ally. See ya.” Bliss smiled.
“See ya.”
Bliss walked back to her car, wanting nothing more than to be alone as she absorbed this news. There had been a memorial for Dylan and no one had come. To the Red Bloods he was just some troublemaker; to the vampires, collateral damage. No one cared or remembered him.
She hadn’t even been there to pay her respects. To see him for one last time before they put him in the ground. He was gone forever, and she would never see him again.
CHAPTER 23
Mimi
The directions on the map led them to the Tijuca Forest, located smackdab in the heart of the city, not too far from the smart beach districts along the coast. Rio was a wonder, Mimi thought. Where else in the world could you go so quickly from the glass towers of a modern financial district to a lush tropical rain forest?
In the cab up to Barra da Tijuca, Kingsley studied the carefully drawn map again. “It looks like there’s some sort of cabin in the woods next to a waterfall. That must be where they’ve brought her.”
Do you think she’s still alive?” Mimi asked.
Kingsley didn’t answer at first. He just folded the note back into his pocket. ‘They kept her alive for over a year, that much we know. If they were going to kill her, why would they wait so long?”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Mimi said. “Like We’ve come too late.” The note had been dated four days ago. The little girl’s words echoed in her mind. Bad people. They took her away.
The cab driver took them to the parking lot by the entrance near the Cascatinha de Taunay waterfalls, which was as far as he could take them. The parking lot was a small plateau ringed by the tallest trees Mimi had ever seen. They had a panoramic grandeur, the kind of natural beauty you only saw in movies, so tall and green and wide they looked unreal. She stepped out of the cab and took a deep breath of the clear mountain air. It almost had a taste’like dew and sunshine mixed with an earthy green smell. Mimi looked around, there were several decent-looking trails, but they disappeared sharply up the mountain, twisting away to what looked like some sharp rocks. It looked like it would be a pretty arduous trek, no matter what, and she cursed her vanity once more. If only she had worn the regulation shoes. She was never going to make it up that trail in her high-heeled boots.