he meeting was convened in regular fashion. The secretary took roll. All the old families were represented, the original seven (Van Alen, Cutler, Oelrich, Van Horn, Schlumberger, Stewart, and Rockefeller) had grown to accommodate the Llewellyns, the Duponts (represented by a nervous-looking Eliza, who was the late Priscilla's niece), the Whitneys, and the Carondolets. This was the Conclave of Elders - the gathering of the Blue Blood elite. This was where the decisions for the race, for the future of the clan, were made.

Lawrence welcomed them to the first spring session with a hearty greeting, and began to run through the agenda items: the upcoming fund-raiser for the New York Blood Bank, the latest news on blood-borne diseases and how they would affect the Blue Bloods, how their trust accounts were doing - Blue Blood money was invested heavily in the stock market, and the latest downturn had caused several millions of dollars to disappear.

Mimi was beside herself. Lawrence conducted the meeting as if nothing were amiss, as if a traitor weren't sitting next to him. It was maddening! It had been Kingsley who had called the Silver Blood, Kingsley who had arranged the attack at the Repository, Kingsley who had been the mastermind behind the cover-up, and yet there he was, seated at the table as if he belonged.

On the surface, the Conclave was as calm and placid and nonplussed as ever, although Mimi could detect a slight unease, just the faintest whiff of discord within the ranks. Why didn't Lawrence say anything? The old coot was babbling about the sub-prime market and the recent disastrous events on Wall Street. Ah, finally...Lawrence turned to Kingsley. An explanation at last.

But no. Lawrence matter-of-factly declared that Kingsley had a report to file, and ceded the floor to the so-called Venator, a Truth-Teller, a member of the vampire secret police.

Kingsley acknowledged the table with a grim smile. "Elders...and um, Mimi," he began. He was just as wickedly handsome as ever, but since he had been unmasked as a Venator, he looked older. No longer the rebellious youth, but serious and somber in a dark coat and tie.

Several members of the Conclave exchanged raised eyebrows, and white-haired Brooks Stewart had a coughing fit that was severe enough for Cushing Carondolet to pound him on the back several times. When the ruckus subsided, Kingsley continued without comment.

"I bring grave news. There is a disturbance on the South American continent. My team has detected ominous signs that point to a possible infractio."

Mimi understood the word from the sacred language - Kingsley was telling telling them of a breaking. But a breaking of what?

"What's been going on?" Dashiell Van Horn wanted to know. Mimi recognized him as the inquisitor during her trial.

"Cracks in the foundation of Corcovado. Some reports of disappearances of Elders of that Conclave. Alfonso Almeida has not returned from his usual sojourn in the Andes. His family is concerned."

Esme Schlumberger snorted. "Alfie just likes to get lost in the wilderness every year. Says it keeps him close to nature. It doesn't mean anything."

"But Corcovado - that is troubling," said Edmund Oelrich, who was now chief warden since Priscilla's death.

"With what we know of the Silver Bloods - how one was able to infiltrate the Repository itself - anything could be possible," Kingsley said.

"Indeed," Dashiell Van Horn agreed, lowering his half-moon spectacles.

Lawrence nodded. "You all know, of course, of the rumors that the Silver Bloods fled to South America before they disappeared. The Blue Bloods kept north, and some believed the Silver Bloods headed south to regroup. Of course, we have never had any evidence of this. ..."

Several members of the Conclave squirmed visibly. Ever since the attack at the Repository, they had to acknowledge that Lawrence, the former outcast, had been right all along. That the wardens had willfully ignored the signs, had stuck their heads in the sand like a group of ostriches, too fearful to accept the truth: the Silver Bloods, the demons of myth, their ancient foe, had returned.

"We didn't have any evidence until now." Kingsley nodded. "But it looks as though Lawrence's suspicions were correct."

"If Corcovado is compromised, I cannot stress how grave a danger we are in," Lawrence said.

"But there have been no ... deaths?" asked Eliza Dupont in a timid voice.

"None that we know of," Kingsley confirmed. "One of the young, a Yana Riberio, has also been missing. But her mother thinks she has absconded with her boyfriend on an impromptu weekend in Punta del Este," he said with a smirk.

Mimi kept silent; she was the only member who had yet to contribute to the discussion. In New York, there had been no deaths or attacks since the night at the Repository. She felt frustrated that she couldn't remember why Corcovado was so important - obviously everyone else on the Conclave knew why, but she didn't. It was annoying not to have come into her full memories.

The word meant absolutely nothing to her. And she would never ask anyone what it meant either - she had way too much pride. Maybe she could get Charles to illuminate her, although it seemed that ever since his resignation from the Conclave he had little interest in anything save sitting in his room, poring over old books and photographs, and listening to muffled recordings on an old eight-track.

"As the attack on the Repository has shown, the Silver Bloods are no longer a myth we can choose to ignore. We must act quickly. Corcovado must hold," Lawrence declared.

What on earth was Lawrence talking about? Mimi wished she knew.

"So. What is the plan?" Edmund inquired. The atmosphere had shifted. Distress at Kingsley's presence had transformed into distress at the news he had brought.

Kingsley shuffled the papers in front of him. "I'll be joining my team in the capital. Sao Paolo is a rats' nest. It will make a good hiding place. Then we'll make for Rio on foot, check out the situation in Corcovado, talk to some of the families."

Lawrence nodded. Mimi thought he was going to dismiss the meeting, but he didn't. Instead he removed a cigar from his shirt pocket. Kingsley leaned forward with a lit match, and Lawrence inhaled deeply. Smoke filled the air. Mimi wanted to wave her hands and remind Lawrence of the Committee's no-smoking rule, but she didn't dare.

The Regis regarded the table with a stern eye. "I am aware that some of you are wondering why Kingsley is here today," Lawrence said, finally addressing the question burning in everyone's mind.

He took another puff from his cigar. "Especially concerning the evidence shown at the blood trial. However, I have since learned that the Martins, and Kingsley in particular, are innocent. Their actions were justified by the mission they were given by the former Regis. For the protection of the Coven, I cannot disclose any more information about this."

Her father! Charles had something to do with it - but why wouldn't Lawrence tell them what it was?

"What mission?" Edmund demanded. "Why was the Conclave kept in the dark about this?"

"It is not our place to question the Regis," Forsyth Llewellyn reminded sharply.

Nan Cutler nodded. "It is not our way."

Mimi could see the table was neatly divided in two: half the members were indignant and anxious, while the other half were prepared to accept Lawrence's statement with no question. Not that it mattered. The Conclave was not a democracy; the Regis was an undisputed leader whose word was law. Mimi trembled with barely suppressed rage. What happened to the Conclave that had condemned her to burn just a few months ago? It wasn't fair! How could they trust a "reformed" Silver Blood?

"Would anyone care to formerly lodge a dissent?" Lawrence asked casually. "Edmund? Dashiell?"

Dashiell bowed his head. "No. We have put our faith in you, Lawrence."

Edmund gave a grudging nod.

"Thank you. Kingsley is once again a voting member of the Conclave, with full Venator status. Join me in welcoming him back to the fold. Without Kingsley, we would not have known about Corcovado so early."

There was a smattering of applause.

The meeting adjourned, and the Elders divided into whispering groups. Mimi noticed Lawrence talking in hushed tones with Nan Cutler.

Kingsley walked up to Mimi and put a light hand on her elbow. "I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about what happened. The trial and all."

"You set me up," she hissed, shaking off his arm.

"It was inevitable. Still, I'm glad to see you're well," he said. But his tone of voice indicated that her well-being didn't matter to him in the slightest.