"Try it," Mimi said, holding a spoon on which a gelatinous mound quivered. "It's delicious."
Her brother looked suspiciously at the appetizer. Gel§ڥ of sea urchin with foamed asparagus did not sound good. But he took a bite manfully.
"See?" Mimi smiled.
"Not bad." Jack nodded. She was right as always.
They were seated in a private banquette in a restaurant located in the gleaming Time Warner Center. A restaurant that was, for the time being, the most expensive and most celebrated restaurant in Manhattan. Getting a reservation at Per Se was akin to getting an audience with the pope. Near impossible. But that's what Daddy's secretaries were for.
Mimi liked the new mall, as she called it. It was shiny and glossy and slick, just like the Force Tower. It smelled thrillingly expensive, like a new Mercedes. The building and everything in it was a paean to capitalism and money. You couldn't spend less than five hundred dollars for a meal for two at any of its four-star restaurants. This was post-boom, seven-figure-bonus New York, the New York of financiers and ready-made billionaires, the New York of brash hedge-fund jockeys with shellacked trophy wives flaunting their liposculpted physiques and couture hair extensions.
Jack, of course, hated it. Jack preferred a city that he had never even experienced. He waxed nostalgic about the legendary days of the Village, when anyone from Jackson Pollock to Dylan Thomas could be found wandering the cobblestoned streets. He liked grit and dirt and a Times Square that was known for its hustlers and three-card-monte dealers and underground juice bars (since strip clubs couldn't serve alcohol). He couldn't stomach a New York that had been taken over by the likes of Jamba Juice, Pinkberry, and Cold Stone.
He had been prepared to despise the precious, sixteen-table restaurant in the middle of what was essentially a shopping mall. But as each course appeared - caviar and oyster sabayon, white truffles generously grated over slippery tagliatelle noodles, marrow over the richest Kobe beef - Mimi could see he was beginning to change his mind. Each dish consisted of a mere handful of bites, just enough to excite the senses and leave them panting for the next gourmet fix.
They had walked in that evening to find the place crawling with Blue Bloods, which was somewhat unexpected since vampires only ate to amuse themselves; but apparently even those who did not need sustenance appreciated having their taste buds tickled. A couple of Elders, emeritus members of the Conclave - Margery and Ambrose Barlow - occupied a corner table. Mimi saw that Margery had fallen asleep again, as she had between each course. But the waiter, who looked like he was used to it by now, simply shook her awake each time he delivered something new to their table.
"So how was the meeting?" Jack asked casually, putting down the spoon and nodding to the busboy that he was done.
"Interesting," she said, taking a sip from her wineglass. "Kingsley Martin's back."
Jack looked surprised. "But he..."
"I know." Mimi shrugged. "Lawrence wouldn't explain. Apparently there's a reason, but it's much too important to share with the Conclave. I swear, he runs that thing like it's the seventeenth century. It's a farce having 'voting members.' He doesn't ask our opinion on anything. He just does what he wants."
"He must have good reason for it," Jack said, his eyes lighting up as the waiter brought new delectables. He looked disappointed to find it was just a dollop of potato salad. Mimi frowned as well. She was expecting gastronomic fireworks, not a picnic dish. But one bite changed her mind. "This is ... the...best potato salad ... in the world." Jack agreed, as he busily devoured his.
"This is nice, isn't it?" Mimi said, indicating the room and the view of Central Park. She reached across the table and took his hand.
Almost getting killed in Venice was probably the best thing to have happened to their relationship. Faced with the prospect of losing his twin forever, Jack became the soul of devotion.
She still remembered how he'd held her the night after the Blood Trial. His face had aged overnight with worry. "I was so afraid. I was so afraid of losing you."
Mimi had been moved enough to forgive his transgressions. "Never, my love. We will be together always."
After that, there had been no more talk of Schuyler. Even when the little rat had moved into their home, Jack remained cold and indifferent. He never spoke to her, he barely even looked at her. As far as Mimi could tell, secretly probing his mind when his guard was down, he never thought about Schuyler at all. She was simply an irritating houseguest. Like a blemish you couldn't erase.
Maybe she had accomplished what she'd wanted after all. She hadn't been able to get rid of Schuyler, but the attack had succeeded in securing the love of her vampire twin.
"Butter-poached lobster," the waiter murmured, silently setting down two new dishes. "So I was thinking, we might as well invite everyone to the bonding," Mimi said, in between bites. Jack grunted.
"Oh, I know. You like the old-fashioned way, just the two of us in the moonlight, blah, blah, blah. But remember Newport? Now that was a party. And you know, having the Four Hundred at a bonding is the way to go now. I heard Daisy Van Horn and Toby Abeville just got bonded in Bali. It was a 'destination bonding.'" Mimi tittered.
Jack signaled the waiter for another bottle of wine. "You know, most Red Bloods these days wait until their thirties to wed. What's the rush?" he asked, regarding with supreme satisfaction the seventh - or was it eighth? - course: a bowl of chilled pea soup.
"Well, my blood is blue, my friend." Mimi curled her lip. True, the Red Bloods they knew did wait a ridiculously long time for their bondings, but those were mere earthly weddings. Humans broke their vows every day with no consequence. This was a celestial situation. While it was tradition for vampire twins to bond on their twenty-first birthday, Mimi saw no reason to wait until then, and there was nothing in the Code that said they couldn't do it earlier. The sooner they said their vows, the better.
When the oaths were exchanged, their souls would mold to each other. Nothing could come between them. They would become one in this lifetime, as they had in all their others. Once the bond was sealed, it could not be broken for the cycle. Schuyler would become nothing more than a distant memory. Jack would forget whatever feelings he had for her. The bond worked in mysterious and irrevocable ways. Mimi had seen it in lifetimes before - how her twin would pine for Gabrielle (who was now Allegra Van Alen in this cycle) in his youth, but once he said his vows, he would not even remember her name. Azrael would be the only dark star in his universe.
"Shouldn't we graduate from high school first?" Jack asked.
Mimi didn't listen. She was already planning to get fitted for her bonding dress. "Or I don't know, maybe we could elope to Mexico, what do you think?"
Jack smiled, and continued to eat his soup.
