Retribution (Book 3 of The Dominion Series) (49 page)

There's no going back now. Soon, my blood will be infected. I'll be teeming with nanovirus and they'll infect Soren when he drinks my blood in order to demonstrate to the board that he's more powerful than ever.

Finally, Soren enters the boardroom. We all stand while he enters and then take our places at the large table while the servants bring out a large crystal goblet like the one we used yesterday during the ceremony at the cathedral.

I sit behind Michel and behind us both stands Julien, who is acting as Michel and Soren's bodyguard for the night. There is no head of the table, but Soren sits in front of the huge floor to ceiling window with Michel at his side, just a bit behind him. His and Michel's wings are fully unfurled – emblems of their status as the most powerful beings in the room.

The Blackstone board members are seated to Soren's left and right at a round table. Each Board member is protected by a bodyguard. They all wear the Blackstone logo – a blazing white sun surrounded by a black circle.

The Chairman of the Blackstone Board is a portly man in his fifties named Sir Peter Gregoryk, from Indianapolis. He stands at his place and reads off the items to be approved, his Eastern European accent thick. I wonder what Soren is planning to do to convince the board of his new powers. Julien stands behind Michel, and I can almost feel the tension in his body at a distance.

The Chairman reads over the first item – a request from the coven leader from the south of Boston, for rights to annex the neighboring coastal areas where there's still seafood to be had. The food will go towards keeping the mortals fed, and that's a priority in these days of shortage. The assembled vampires agree to his request without discussion. He moves to the next item – something about using Blackstone's banks to safeguard vampire wealth during the plague years, and that passes without any debate as well.

I can tell Soren is barely able to wait any longer. He taps his fingers on the table as if impatient for the lower orders of business to be completed. Before the Chairman gets to the next item, Soren stands at his chair, his hands resting on the tabletop.

"I've had enough of this pissant stuff. Let's move on to my item, shall we? "

The vampires and Ancients on the board almost shrink back, turning to the Chairman to watch his response.

The Chairman, flustered by the out-of-order demand, purses his lips for a moment and turns to his fellow vampires, looking for their counsel.

“My Lord Soren, my apologies, but this is highly irregular,” he says. “Usually, the board must vote on whether to amend the order of items, and only then can you speak to it.”

Soren raises a hand as if deferring to the Chairman, but the side door opens and in walk the Twelve, their wings unfurled in a massive show of power. While they enter and take their places behind Soren, Julien slips behind one of the board members, looking as if he's going to the table where the tea and coffee are located.

“As you all know,” Soren says, his voice firm and strong. “Vampires are hard bastards to kill. No wound can kill a vampire with the exception of wood to the heart and only after we've been staked can our limbs be severed. Until now, the only way to really destroy a vampire permanently was to first stake them, then behead them and burn their bodies, then pulverize them to dust." Soren glances around at the other vampires, who sit tense, some leaning forward, some cringing away, looks of surprise or horror on their faces.

"Now, that's changed. The Council's genetic research is very useful,” Soren says. “Tonight, if you don't cooperate, I'm going to demonstrate just how useful. What I show you against one, I could use against each of you. I have a drug that will infect any vampire I choose, which will destroy them at the cellular level. The vampire will disintegrate, becoming noting more than bodily fluids. I control this power and now demand your total compliance. I want the formula for the plague within the hour or you and all your covens will die."

I frown – this is exactly the technology Dylan and the Council are using tonight against Soren…

One of the Blackstone vampires motions to Soren.

"Get my science advisor, James," he says. "He's in the anteroom, waiting."

Julien goes to the door and calls his name. Michel leans back to me.

"That's Professor Miles Fourney, from New York. Head of research for Blackstone."

Soon, a young man in a rumpled suit with dark horn rimmed glasses enters. He looks confused. He goes to Fourney's side.

"James," Fourney says. "We have a bit of a
problem
…"

"Yes," James says, glancing around at the vampires in the room.

"Soren claims he has a drug that can make a vampire, well, dissolve. He says he'll use it unless he gets the formula for the inhibitor tonight."

"Jesus
Christ
," James says, whispering as if we won't hear him. "That wasn't our plan. We were supposed to let it run its course. What the hell is going on?"

"Change your plans, James," Soren says.

James looks up at Soren and adjusts his tie nervously. "I have to hear from the head of Blackstone first, " James says. "He's the one who funded development. I take my orders from him."

"James," Soren says. "I know you're trying to be a good employee. Let me repeat what I told Dr. Fourney. If I don't get the formula for the inhibitor in one hour, Dr. Fourney and everyone in this room will die and every vampire you've turned and every blood slave you have will die as well. Do you understand?"

"I don't believe you," James says, shaking his head. "With all due respect, no one has that kind of power."

Soren smiles. "Do you really require a demonstration?" He looks around the room. "I believe Colonel Drake from Blackstone's board of directors is connected by blood to his aide." He turns to Drake, who's frowning. "Open the door so we can speak to his aide from the other room, but don't let him in."

Julien does that, going to the door to the boardroom.

"Colonel Drake?" comes a voice of a young male. "Are you in need of assistance?"

Drake turns to Dr. Fourney.  "For God's sake, tell your man to give him the fucking inhibitor!"

"I'm not releasing the formula until I hear from General Blackstone himself," comes James's reply.

"Release it!" Dr. Fourney says, but James shakes his head.

Soren nods and Julien goes to Colonel Drake, who's trying to get up but Julien's too fast and is at Drake's side before Drake is even able to leave his chair. Julien easily scrapes a blade down his cheek so that a line of crimson drips off his jaw. Drake whimpers, breathing fast.

"How are you Cooper?" Drake gasps, craning his head to the door.

"I'm fine," comes his voice.

"I didn't think they could affect us all," James says, his voice dismissive. "How could that be? If it's a virus delivery system, it would have to infect us all and there'd have to be some kind of contact first, either physical or aerosol. If it's a toxin, we still have to be exposed. It would have to be aerated, the particles small enough to enter the bloodstream through the lungs or skin."

Fourney looks relieved at that, his eyes closing.

"Don't relax too fast, Dr. Fourney." Soren smiles, and his expression sends a chill down my spine. "Think spooky action at a distance," he says. "Quantum entanglement. What happens to you happens instantaneously to everyone you've turned or made into a blood slave."

Fourney frowns, a look of panic back on his face. "You mean…"

"Yes," Soren says. "A change of state in the sire causes a similar state change in every other vampire or blood slave who has that same sequence of genes."

Fourney closes his eyes.

"How are you, Cooper?" Drake says once more.

We hear a cough from the other room. Then, Colonel Drake starts to cough as well.

There's a silence in the room. I can't believe that James is still considering, his brow furrowed, as if he still doesn't believing this.

"James," Fourney says, his voice desperate. "As your sire, I order you to release the formula.
Now!
"

"I can't," James says. "I'm sorry. I just don't accept that research on quantum entanglement is that far advanced." He glances around the room at the others. "I've worked for Blackstone for a dozen years and we haven't even gone beyond some experimental entanglement of photons in two different labs in the same building. Certainly not entire molecules or sequences of DNA across the globe." He shakes his head. "They're lying."

"I'm not willing to take that risk!" Dr. Fourney says.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Fourney," James says, "but as your science advisor, I have to tell you it's just not possible."

"Listen to me," Fourney says, his voice breaking. "Give Lord Soren the fucking research
now!
"

Then, Colonel Drake starts to disintegrate before our eyes. First his eyes tear and the tears are stained pink. Then, a crimson fluid starts to ooze from his ears and nose. He coughs, and gags, then a pink frothy foam bubbles out of his mouth. Julien grimaces and turns to the room. He runs a finger over his throat to indicate the man is dying. He steps forward. "Turn over the formula or suffer the same fate."

"All
right
," a reluctant James says. "I'll have to go to my offices and get the research, collect the files for you but you have to know everything was on computer. All I have are the basic research papers and workbooks. You'll have to rebuild the molecule from those."

"What's stopping you?" Soren says, smiling, his expression feral. He motions to one of his guards. "Go with James. Make sure he doesn't try to get away. Now, for our next demonstration, how about showing you what our dear Adept Eve can do," Soren says, rubbing his hands together. "She's a very special Adept, which all of you have no doubt heard about. Natalia's daughter. She has the ability to channel the emotions of followers, transferring that power to me and members of the Twelve. Eve," he says and waves me over to his side. "Come and let me show my new board members what we can do together."

I glance at Michel, who motions to Soren. I catch Dylan's eye and he nods almost imperceptibly. I go to Soren's side, offering him the wrist of my unwounded hand. He takes a sharp knife from Julien and cuts my wrist as before, dribbling it into the empty goblet on the table. Then, he hands the knife to Michel and motions for him to add his blood to the mix. Julien follows Michel, mixing his blood with that of Soren and the Twelve. They then share the blood and finally, Soren takes his share and passes the remaining mouthful to Michel, Julien and then to me.

I look at the goblet and I know this is it. If I drink it, I'll unite all of us and soon, the dying will start.

I glance at Dylan and he nods, a slight smile on his face.

I drink it down.

Then, I'm assaulted by the emotions of the Twelve who shared the blood. They're gloating, having enjoyed the sight of Colonel Drake dying. I survey the board members, who look on in awe of Soren and the Twelve standing behind them. I'm almost overwhelmed with emotions but I manage to steal a glance at Soren and he has his head down, his hands resting on the table. Then, he raises his hands and stares at them as if he's trying to create that spark again, but nothing happens.

"Something's wrong," he says and tries to hold his arms out in front of him, but his hands shake. "What's happening?"

Behind us, several of the Twelve start to frown. One stumbles and has to lean against the wall while one and then others fall to their knees as if they don't have the strength to stand up under their own power.

Beside me, Michel puts his elbows on the table and holds his head. I can hear his breathing, which is fast and hard. Julien leans against the wall, dropping his sword to the floor where it clatters against the hardwood. His hands are spread on the wall at his side as if to support his weight and stop from sliding down.

Soren finally turns to me. Now, he joins minds directly with mine and he's searching my memories. He finds the one of me meeting with Dylan and sees him dipping the crucifix into the black powder. Then Soren manages to grab my hand and turns my palm up only to find the small puncture wound, the blood having already clotted and dried.

"You fucking
bitch
…" he says, and tries to reach for me, but I pull away and he seems suddenly helpless to do anything but stare at me, his face contorting in anger. He turns to Dylan. "You're too late," Soren says, his voice weakening, growing barely above a whisper. "The new world has already come, no matter what you do to delay me."

His strength is slowly being sapped, but unlike Colonel Drake, he isn't dissolving. He doesn't cough, his skin is intact, and he's still whole as are the Twelve. He does slump back in his chair, barely able to keep his chin off his chest as if all his energy is being drained. Soon, he can't even keep his eyes open.

Michel and Julien are still all right, but then I feel something on my cheeks. Pink-tinged tears. Something is warm on my upper lip and when I reach up, I find that my nose is bleeding.

Michel turns to me and then leans over, wiping my lip.

"No, Eve,
no
…" he whispers.  "Not this way." He takes my hand, pulling me into the chair with him. "I didn’t see
this
…"