Revelations

"That was the hotel," Oliver explained, returning to the table. "Someone's checked out, and a room's opened up. They asked me if I wanted to take it. So you've got a room," he told Schuyler, his face neutral.



"Thanks," she said, trying to make her voice sound as normal as possible, even if there was a hole where her heart should be. But she forced all thoughts of Jack out of her head; later...she would mourn later.



"So why is the Conclave here, Lawrence?" Oliver asked. "Is it because of Leviathan?"



"The Conclave is here?" Lawrence asked sharply.



"Oh! I forgot to mention it - yeah. They're here. All of them," Schuyler said. "I think they arrived last night."



Lawrence mulled over this latest piece of information while draining his drink. As if she had vampire ability of her own, the waitress reappeared with another cocktail at his elbow. "More virgin coladas?" she asked, motioning to the half-empty glasses filled with melting yellow goo.



"Make mine a whiskey," Oliver coughed.



"Make that two," Schuyler quickly added, thinking she would risk her grandfather's censure later. "Who's Leviathan?" she asked, turning to Oliver. Around them the bar was starting to fill up with sunburned tourists coming in for happy hour, and a samba band began to play a rousing set.



"If you'd done your reading, Granddaughter, you would know the answer to that question," Lawrence replied.



"Leviathan's a demon." Oliver explained.



"One  of  the mightiest  Silver Bloods  of  all  time," Lawrence said. "The brother of the Dark Prince himself. His second-in-command."



Schuyler shuddered. "But what's he got to do with anything?" She wished the music weren't so loud. The bright, happy sound was in stark contrast to the dark subject of their conversation.



"Corcovado is Leviathan's prison," Lawrence replied. "It is the only place on earth that could hold him. He was too strong to be slain, and was too rooted in the earth to be sent back to hell. When he was captured he was imprisoned in rock underneath the Statue of the Redeemer. Your own mother took him down."



So that's what Lawrence was keeping from her the night he left. Protecting her from the truth and not telling her everything about Corcovado. Leviathan. That visceral hatred she'd felt the day of the fashion show. If she'd paid more attention to her books she could have figured it out sooner. But she'd been too distracted...



"Yes. That was him that evening of the earthquake," Lawrence confirmed. "He is the reason Corcovado is guarded by the Venator elite. We have always kept a strong presence here."



"Now I get it," Schuyler said. "Why you came down here, I mean."



Lawrence nodded. "When Kingsley first brought news of the strange disappearances in Rio, I was a bit unnerved. After the earthquake, I realized I would have to take matters into my own hands and make certain Corcovado remained fortified. I vowed I would not leave the city until I was sure that the threat - if there was one - was completely disarmed.



"Then a few weeks ago, the Venators confirmed that Yana, the young vampire who'd been missing, had simply run off for a beach vacation with her boyfriend, just as her mother had thought. Meanwhile Kingsley's team brought in Alfonso Almeida, the missing patriarch of the South American clan, after an extensive search in the Andes. Aside from frostbite and an inability to read a map, he was fine.



"So as I told you in my messages, everything was secure. There was no breaking."



"Leviathan?" Oliver asked.



"Trapped for eternity as far as I could see," Lawrence said dismissively.



"But the sending...the earthquake," Schuyler argued, trying to talk over the deafening sound of the crowd and the relentless samba drums.



"Mere symptoms in his struggle to break free of his chains. Nothing Leviathan has tried before. But it is of no use. Corcovado will hold forever." He rapped the table with his glass, as if to stress his point.



"So why does the Conclave think Corcovado is a danger then?" she asked.



"Is that why they are here?"



Schuyler nodded.



"I don't know. But Nan must have her reasons; the Regent would never act without just cause." Lawrence finished his drink. "Then again, maybe Kingsley is right," he said softly to himself.



"Kingsley!" Schuyler exploded. "How can you trust him? You said yourself, never to trust shiny surfaces. Kingsley's as slick as they come."



"Actually Kingsley has proven his loyalty to the Coven above and beyond the call of duty. Do not speak of him so disrespectfully, Granddaughter," Lawrence said sternly.



"That stunt he pulled at the Repository? That was how he proved his loyalty?"



"Kingsley was only doing what was asked of him. He was following the orders of his Regis."



"You mean Charles told him to call up the Silver Blood?" Schuyler half laughed in indignation. Michael was an Archangel. He would never be capable of such treachery.



"There is a reason for everything. Perhaps even for this sudden influx of Elders into this city," Lawrence surmised.



"You know, the Almeidas are giving a dinner tonight," Oliver interrupted. "For the whole Conclave." He checked his watch. "I think it's already started."



Lawrence signaled for the bill. "Very good. Perhaps we will find our answers there. At the very least, the Almeidas throw a wonderful party."