Blue Bloods

CHAPTER 19

It was so funny to see how scared the fresh blood looked. Mimi remembered sitting in that same room last year, thinking they would all start planning the yearly Four Hundred Ball (Theme? Décor? Invites?) and that would be the end of it. Of course, Jack had known something was up, nothing really got past her brother—and apparently, some of them had more of an idea about what was happening to them than others.

Mimi had had the flashbacks too—the memories that would creep up on her without warning. Like the time she'd been in Martha's Vineyard, and instead of being outside the Black Dog, she was outside a farmhouse, wearing some hideous gingham dress—believe it or not. Or the time she was taking her French test and she hadn't studied at all but she aced it, finding that she was suddenly fluent in the language.

She smiled to herself at the memory, and watched as several members of the Senior Committee, her mother among them, entered the room, their Blahnik heels clicking softly on the rose marble floor. There was a hush. The well-coifed women nodded to one another and waved gaily to their children.

The Jefferson Room was the front entry room to the Flood mansion, in the style of Monticello, a tribute to the third president. There was a high, domed cathedral ceiling, several Gainsborough portraits, and in the middle a large round table, where the new members were sitting, looking alternately bored or scared. Mimi didn't recognize all of them, as some were from other schools. God, those Nightingale uniforms were ugly, she thought. The rest of the members of the Junior Committee were sitting on the study desks, or leaning on the windows, or standing with their arms folded, watching silently. She noticed that for once, her brother Jack had deigned to grace them with his presence.

So the Wardens had thought to include the Van Alen girl after all. That was odd. Mimi had no memory of her from her past, not even from Plymouth. She had to have been there somewhere; Mimi just had to dig deeper into her subconscious. When Mimi looked around the room, she could see glimmerings of who everyone else used to be. Katie Sheridan, for instance, had always been a friend—they had "come out" during the 1850 deb season together, and Lissy Harris had been an attendant at her wedding in Newport later that year. But that wasn't the case with Schuyler.

As for Jack, well, they had been together for longer than eternity. His was the only face she ever saw constantly, waiting for her in every incarnation of her past. If Mimi practiced her meditations, perhaps she would be able to access the deepest recesses of her history, back to their creation, in Egypt before the floods.

Mrs. Priscilla DuPont, a regular presence in the city's society pages, and the financial and social force behind many of New York's most august cultural institutions, stepped forward. Like the other women behind her, she was preternaturally slim, with a soft, buttery bob that framed her line-less face. She cut a severe figure in her sharp black Carolina Herrera suit. As committee chair and Chief Warden, she called the meeting to order.

"Welcome to the first meeting of the New York Blood Bank Committee of the season," she said, smiling graciously. "We are very proud to have all of you here."

Mimi zoned out for a bit, barely listening to the standard lecture concerning civil duty and noblesse oblige, enumerating the many services the committee provided their community. The yearly ball, for instance, raised a tremendous amount of money for blood research programs, which was dedicated to the eradication of blood-borne diseases like AIDS and hemophilia. The Committee had founded hospitals and research institutions, and had been instrumental in funding stem-cell research and other advances in medicine.

Then, after the standard spiel, Mrs. DuPont looked intently at the ten young people seated at the table.

"But helping others is not all that The Committee does." There was an expectant silence.

Mrs. DuPont looked at each student intently before speaking. "You have been gathered here today because you are very special." Her voice had a melodious, cultured quality, soothing and patrician at the same time.

Mimi saw Bliss Llewellyn look uncomfortable. She had given Bliss grief about Dylan, but it was her funeral. Bliss had even threatened to skip the meeting, but somehow Mimi had helped to change her mind.

"Some of you might have noticed certain changes in your bodies. How many have started to see the blue marks on your arms?" she asked.

There was a smattering of hands, a few arms glowing with the sapphire light shining through their skin.

She nodded. "Good. That is the blood beginning to manifest."

Mimi remembered how freaked out she'd been when her marks first appeared. They'd formed an intricate, almost paisley-like pattern up and down from her shoulder to her wrist. Jack had shown her his, and it was another of those things that looked like a coincidence but weren't really—if they held up their arms next to each other's, the patterns matched perfectly.

The blood marks were a map of their personal histories—it was the blood asserting itself; the Sangre Azul, which marked them as their kind, Mrs. DuPont informed them.

"Some of you find that you are suddenly able to do things very well. Have you noticed that you are excelling in tests you have not studied for? That your memory has become like a photographic snapshot?"

There was more nodding, and some mumbling.

"Has anyone noticed that occasionally, time either slips away or becomes very slow?"

Mimi nodded. That was part of it—the memories that pulled you from the present to the past. You would be walking down a street, minding your own business, and then suddenly you were walking down the same street, but in a totally different time. It was like watching some really cool movie, Mimi thought, except you were starring in it.

"Do you find that you can eat everything and still not gain an ounce?"

There was giggling from some of the girls. A good metabolism, that's what the Red Bloods thought. Mimi had to giggle herself. As if anyone could eat as many cupcakes with whipped cream frosting as they wanted and still be as thin as she was. It was her favorite part of being a Blue Blood. One of the lucky ones. The chosen ones.

"The taste of cooked meat has become unbearable. You have begun to crave things that are raw, bloody."

There were some uncomfortable looks around the table. Bliss looked especially pale. Mimi wondered if anyone had ever experienced what she had—the day she'd devoured several raw, ribeye steaks all by herself; stuffing her face until the blood dripped down her chin and she looked like a mental patient. From the looks around the table, Mimi would bet that had happened to more than a few.

"One last question: how many of you have gotten pets in the last year? Dogs, more specifically?"

Everyone raised their hand. Mimi thought of how she'd found her chow, Pookie, on the beach in the Hamptons one day, and how her brother had gotten Patch on the same evening. Their father had been so proud.

"How many of them are bloodhounds?"

Only Schuyler raised her hand. Mimi grimaced. Her brother Jack had merited a bloodhound too—top level. That was annoying.

"We are here to tell you, you are not to worry. All the things you are experiencing are normal. This is because, like me, like your friends and classmates sitting behind you, like your parents, grandparents, siblings, and relatives, you are part of a long and noble tradition of the Four Hundred."

Mrs. DuPont snapped her fingers and all the lights in the classroom went out. But she, as well as the other committee members, were still glowing. They had an inner light that accentuated their features. It was as if they were made of white translucent marble.

"This is called illuminata, it is one of our gifts that aids us in the night and makes us visible to one another."

Some of the students screamed.

"There is nothing to worry about. You are safe here, for we are all the same."

Her voice took on a melodic, hypnotic quality.

"It is all part of the Cycle of Expression. You are the newest Blue Bloods. Today is your induction into your secret history. Welcome to your new life."

The students' faces were lined in shock. Mimi remembered how terrified she'd been, but not because she'd been scared of The Committee—it was a different kind of terror—a more complicated kind of fear. It was the terror of finally knowing the truth. She saw the same fear on the newest members' faces.

They were embarking on a journey into the darkness inside themselves.