Blissran as fast as she could. She had seen the whole thing. She was in the cab and she'd seen it all: Schuyler's jump, Dylan coming after, the chase, the reversal. She'd witnessed Dylan's anguish and Schuyler's mastery.
Oh God, don't let her have killed him.
"Dylan!" Bliss kneeled by his side. He lay facedown on the sidewalk, so she turned him over gently and took him in her arms. He was so thin...just skin and bones underneath a T-shirt. She held him tenderly like a baby bird. He was damaged and pathetic, but he was hers. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Dylan!"
When she'd arrived home after her go-see appointment and he wasn't there to meet her as they'd planned, she'd known immediately that something was wrong. She called Oliver and told him to meet her at the Perry Street apartment building as soon as he could. Dylan had been saying all along he was going to do something, and now he had. Luckily, Bliss knew where to find him because she knew Schuyler's secret and where she was going to be that night.
Dylan opened his eyes. He recoiled when he saw Bliss, and then turned to Schuyler and snarled in a deep, booming rumble, "Argento Croatus!"
"Are you insane?" Schuyler asked, Oliver standing by protectively. She couldn't believe her ears. Dylan had just called her a Silver Blood. What was going on? What had happened to him? Why did his voice sound like that?
"Dylan, stop it. Sky - he doesn't know what he's talking about," Bliss said nervously. "Dylan, please, you're not making sense."
Dylan spaced out, his pupils dilating rapidly as if a flashlight were shining in his eyes. Then he started laughing in a high-pitched squeal.
"You've known he was back and you didn't tell me," Schuyler said, and the accusation hung in the air between them.
"Yes." Bliss took a sharp breath. "I didn't want to tell you because..." Because you would tell the Conclave. You would have them take him away. And yes, he's changed. He's different. He's not the same. Something awful and unspeakable has happened to him. But I still love him. You understand, don't you? You, who wait in an apartment for a boy who does not arrive.
Schuyler nodded. The two of them understood each other without speaking. It was the vampire way.
"Still, he can't be like this; we've got to get him help." Schuyler moved closer to the two of them.
"Don't touch me," Dylan snarled. Suddenly, he leaped to his feet and grabbed Bliss by the throat, his bony fingers pressing violently on her pale neck.
"If you're not going to help me, then you're one of them," he said menacingly, tightening his grip.
Bliss began to cry. "Dylan...don't."
Schuyler lunged toward Dylan, but Oliver restrained her. "Wait," he said. "Wait - I can't let you get hurt again..."
Meanwhile, Dylan pushed Bliss further and further with his mind, his fury relentless, his power only more frightening in its recklessness. Bliss dropped to her knees. There would be no telepathic gymnastics on her part.
Now it was Schuyler's turn to scream. Schuyler's turn to beg him to stop.
Dylan took no notice of them, and stroked Bliss's cheek with his other hand. He leaned in, his mouth on her neck. Schuyler could see his fangs appear. They were about to draw blood.
"No...Dylan...please," Bliss whispered. "No..."
"Let me go." Schuyler shook Oliver off her. Bliss watched as her friend frantically prepared an incantation that would break Dylan's hold.
But just before Schuyler could send the coercion, Dylan's shoulders shook and he sank to the ground of his own volition, abruptly releasing his victim. Bliss crumpled to the floor, violet imprints from his fingers blooming on her neck.
Dylan put his head between his knees and sobbed.
"What the hell just happened?" he cried, and finally his was a voice Bliss recognized. For the first time that evening, Dylan sounded like himself.