by Lund, S. E.
Then Soren raises his arms, his hands inches apart, and I see something bright between his palms. It's a small spark of light, tiny, perhaps as big as a grain of sand. But soon, it grows larger, now the size of a marble, spinning on its axis, burning bright as an acetylene torch. He spreads his legs as if the spark of energy weighs a great deal, his face a grimace, the muscles of his bare arms flexing with strain.
The spark grows even larger, perhaps the size of a baseball, the light from it so bright I have to squint. I step back, alarmed, but I can't tear my eyes away, and neither can the congregation. They gasp in shock as the spark is now the size of a basketball. The ball of lightning-like energy hums and buzzes, the scent of ozone filling the room.
What is it?
I have no idea what's happening, only that it's like a small nuclear reaction is taking place between Soren's outstretched palms, the white fire-like plasma forming strange shapes as it grows and morphs.
Soren speaks, his voice booming through the nave.
"And the fourth angel poured out his vial upon the sun; and power was given unto him to scorch men with fire. And men were scorched with great heat."
Then he throws the spark, which is now the size of a beach ball, forward and it stops in mid air above the shackled prisoners and then explodes, showering down onto those below, incinerating them in front of us. They writhe and scream, flames burning them almost instantly into charred statues, the scent of roasted human flesh making my stomach turn.
People scream and run, but the doors are closed and they can't leave. I want to cut the connection I have with Soren and the Twelve and between all of us and the congregation, but I can't and now Soren raises his hands and everyone stops, turning to watch him. He's shining like the fire he cast into the congregation, so bright my eyes hurt.
"I am your God," he says, his voice so loud it sounds as if it's coming from everywhere at the same time. "I am the God of War reborn and you will bow down and worship me or die."
He glares down at the remaining congregants, who crouch or stand in mute horror. Finally, they start to bow, falling to their knees, their hands on the floor in front of their faces the way Muslims bow down in prayer.
He rises up over the altar, levitating, as if his power is growing even stronger as the awe of the congregation increases and I'm as helpless as a baby to stop what's happening.
It's too much and I fall to my knees, unable to hold myself up any longer.
Michel comes up behind me and puts his hands under my arms, lifting me up so that I stand in front of him. "It's OK, Eve," he whispers in my ear. "Not much longer now."
Then, when everyone is on their knees before us, their heads bowed, Soren descends and his feet touch down to the marble floor. He clenches and unclenches his hands as the glow of light dims and then he turns to the exit. Michel holds me up as we follow him back to the side room. Following behind us, the Twelve. Julien takes up the rear.
"Well, that was fun!" Soren says, rubbing his hands together as if he's just performed some kind of parlor trick instead of controlling some force of nature and killing a dozen people in front of us. "Tell me that wasn't fun, Eve! We smote some bad guys, regaled the congregation with some shock and awe. I think it was a resounding success. Imagine the talk around town tomorrow! I can just see the headlines – 'Mars, the Roman god reborn, reveals power, smites evildoers!'"
I ignore Soren, unable to speak. Michel seats me on a chair against the wall and kneels down before me, holding my hand in his, brushing hair from my face.
"You did really well, Eve," he says, his voice soft.
I just stare at him, still reeling from joining once more with the Twelve and Soren, channeling the congregation's awe and worship. I feel as if I've been infused with electricity but at the same time, I might collapse if expected to stand on my own.
"Just imagine what we'll do in Vatican City once I take that as my residence," Soren says, a gloating expression on his face as he paces the room. "Thousands of worshippers all in one place, watching feats of wonder. We're a great team. Word of this will spread fast, people will return to the churches when they start to really believe that the old gods have returned. I may have to heal a few cripples, make the blind see. Bring the dead back to life. That sort of thing."
Julien stands off to the side of the room and watches Michel with me. Our eyes meet and I can tell he's concerned about me and doesn't like what he's seen. I wonder when either he or Michel will tell me of the plan to stop Soren – if there even is a plan.
"Tomorrow, we'll deal with Blackstone," Soren adds. "I intend to get the formula for the plague so our own scientists can control it. I don’t like that Blackstone can start or stop it at will and I have no say in how it's deployed. I've asked the Chairman to add my item on the agenda at their weekly board meeting – it's a ruse of course. I just want them all in one place. Make sure you're in top form," he says to me and wags his eyebrows. "They have to know we mean business. I intend to give a small demonstration, but I'm sure by tomorrow night, they'll have heard about my miracle and powers. I doubt I'll have to do too much convincing."
"As you wish," Michel says quietly. "My Lord," he adds. Even Michel must be submissive to him.
"Good," Soren says, smiling. "Julien, make sure you put extra security in place for when we go. I don’t want some crackpot soldier trying to screw things up."
Julien bows to Soren.
"Well," Soren says to one of the Twelve, the rest of whom are standing or sitting in the room, watching him. "I'm starving. I think I'd like a bit of redhead today. Who do we have on tap?"
They leave the room, filing out in Soren's wake, leaving Michel, Julien and I behind.
"Let's get you home," Michel says, helping me up. We pass Julien on the way out. He nods to me, his expression dark.
"Soon, Eve," Julien says to me. "Soon."
I look back at him as we leave the room and make our way to the exit and out to the vehicle. What does he mean, soon?
Soon this charade will be over and Soren will be dead?
Soon, he and I will be back together?
As Michel and I drive back to Soren's mansion, I wonder what the board meeting will be like.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
"But love's a malady without a cure."
John Dryden
That night, Michel assists me into our bedroom and helps me undress, but I'm absolutely so exhausted, we don't fuck as we normally would. Instead, Michel lies beside me, his arms around me while I fall asleep. I'm so tired I can't even say goodnight.
I sleep without waking for nearly twelve hours. In the morning, Michel's away on business so I eat alone at the table by the window in Michel's bedroom, looking out over the city while I drink my coffee. Michel finally returns in the late afternoon, but he's busy with meetings, and I barely see him. He slips into the room where I'm curled up on the settee with a soft blanket, dozing. I hear him close the door. He comes to my side and bends down to kiss me, tilting my head up with his finger under my chin.
"How are you?" he says, his expression concerned. "I'm sorry to put you through more, but it's important that Blackstone sees you're with Soren and the Twelve. They need a demonstration of your powers. It will make them realize he means business."
"Blackstone's board of directors will agree to meet with him?"
"The Board already agreed because their spies were in the congregation yesterday. I imagine Soren's little show of fiery power was convincing enough that his request to attend was granted."
Later that night, the vampires and Ancients on Blackstone's board sit in the boardroom of one of Blackstone's office buildings surrounded by images of the military corporation's many training facilities around the world. They're convening in a special session to meet with Soren and the Twelve. While we all wait for Soren to appear, I sit with Michel and Julien in one corner. I overhear them discuss the plague, which is spreading every day, bringing more and more of the world to its knees.
Then
the side door opens and in walks my brother, dressed in some kind of black uniform with Kevlar armor.
I frown, shocked to see Dylan here. He comes behind me but Julien stops him, one hand on his chest.
"Hey," Dylan says, holding up his hands as if in surrender. "I just want to say hello to my sister."
Finally, Julien nods. Dylan leans down to whisper in my ear.
"Hello, lovely sister."
"Hello," I say back, but a sense of tension grips my body. Michel leans over to me, a look of concern on his face.
"What did he say?"
"Just hello, lovely sister."
Michel turns to Dylan, who leans against the wall behind the chairman.
For some reason, I reach to my throat where I feel the crucifix Michel gave me dangling beneath my leather collar, and take it in my fingers. It has a sharp pointed end, and without thinking, I press the point into my palm, hard, harder, until I feel a sharp pain and I know I've punctured my skin. I look at my palm where the point is piercing me, and blood wells up as I continue to press down hard.
While I sit and jam the point into my skin, I try to listen to the other board members talking to each other. Dylan is standing, watching me when a scene fills my vision from the other day when I met with Terri and Dylan.
We're sitting in the courtyard in the shade of a tree. Despite it being October, it feels like summer and the fragrance of the sea fills my nose. Dylan turns to me. "Eve, give me your crucifix."
I remove the crucifix from around my neck and hand it to him. He examines it and then removes a tiny vial from his pocket. Inside the vial I see what looks like a fine black powder. Dylan removes the lid and then dips the tip of the crucifix into the powder. After he seals the vial, he examines the cross.
"Amazing what nanotechnology can do." Dylan turns to me, meeting my eyes. His face is deadly serious. "This is a substance that will enter the bloodstream and replicate, building tiny copies of itself using atoms in your blood. It contains a targeted killer molecule that will seek out specific sequences of DNA in any vampire that it infects. If it locates specific sequences, and only those sequences, it destroys the vampire at the cellular level, taking over the nuclear DNA first, using it to rupture the cell wall. Tissues dissolve. The vampire disintegrates, converted to mostly plasma and protein. Anyone with that very specific sequence of DNA in their cells will be killed."
"You're going to use this against Soren?"
He nods. "And the Twelve."
"They're infected when they drink my blood."
"Yes, but even more than that. Anyone who's been turned by Soren, and anyone who's been his blood slave or shared his blood, no matter where they are, will be destroyed."
"They don't have to be directly infected?"
"No. We use quantum entanglement to create instantaneous identical state in anyone with that sequence of DNA. It doesn't matter where they are. They could be on the other side of the universe and will still be affected, still die."
"What about me? I've shared blood with Soren twice. I'm Michel's blood slave and he and Julien were turned by Marguerite who…"
"We've tried to alter the molecule so that Michel and Julien will both be protected. We're using the same technology Soren is planning to use to kill off his enemies. We've tried to find specific sequences in Michel and Julien's DNA that will slow the effect, give their bodies time to heal, but we can't be sure if it will work for you because you don't self-heal. If Michel or Julien survive, they may be able to save you with their blood, but they'll have to drain your blood from your body entirely, and then feed you theirs so that their blood can heal you."
"But won't that…"
He inhales. "Make you a vampire?" He nods.
"I don't want to be a vampire," I say, horror filling me. "Dylan, please – don't let them turn me. If it comes to that, let me die. Promise me!"
He shakes his head. "It's not all bad, Eve. You can drink donated blood. You don't have to kill. It would be great to have you on our side as a vampire."
"I thought you wanted to eradicate vampirism like our mother did."
He turns away and exhales slowly. "I used to but how does that poem go? 'For life's a shabby subterfuge and death is deep and dark and huge,'" he says.
"Who wrote that?"
"Updike. He was right, Eve. I'd do almost anything to bring Sarah back. I don't want to lose you, too. Don't give up the chance at immortality."
I turn away. "I'll only agree to do this if you promise to stop Julien if he tries to make me a vampire. I know Michel won't turn me because he doesn't want to be a vampire either, but Julien," I say and sigh. "He will try to turn me."
"I'll do what I can," Dylan says. "I promise to try."
"Do or do not," I say. "There is no try."
He frowns. "Yoda?"
When I nod, he smiles.
"I will do everything I can to stop him. I promise."
Then, I think of something. "Soren self-heals. Why won't he be able to just heal himself of the damage the molecule does to him?"
"Too fast for even an Ancient to fight off."
"He's not an Ancient, Dylan. He's something different. He claims to be a fallen angel."
"He's an Ancient, Eve. Actually, more powerful than an Ancient because he killed his own father, who was a Nephilim, and he drank the waters of life, activating his angelic inheritance. But he's not a fallen angel. That's just a story he tells to make people fear him."
"Michel and Julien also drank it."
"And I did as well. This substance – it's what the Church was prepared to kill for, what Crusades were launched over. The Holy Grail for vampires that would allow them to day-walk and become more powerful than any other being in existence. The substance was protected by the Cathars for centuries. After the Cathars were murdered in the Crusade, it was protected by the Knights Templar and after them, by various other groups. You'll take it as well and then, we'll have a chance at preventing Dominion. You and I together were meant to do this. It was prophesized."
"What do you mean?"
"St. Therese. The Sword of Megiddo. The prophecy spoke of a double-edged sword. That's us, Eve. You and me. We can make them powerful. Or we can kill them. If we're used by someone with a corrupt heart, we will destroy them. That's what the prophecy was all about. Soren's trying to use us both. We'll destroy him."
I sit in silence for a moment, thinking about 'The Pure' mentioned in the literature in Julien's emails I read back so long ago.
"Soren isn't just an Ancient." I have a bad feeling about that. "I've been in his mind. I think you're wrong."
"Eve," he says. "Don't believe everything he tells you or even everything you think you've discovered when you've connected to him. He's the most powerful Ancient ever. He can block you or make you see and feel what he wants. He just can't compel you."
I look out at the courtyard, wishing I was still just a college Junior studying biology and the college archivist refused my request for my mother's files.
"When you hear me say, 'Hello, lovely sister', take the cross and puncture your skin with the point. A very thin coating of this nanotechnology will adhere to the cross. It will only dissolve in blood, so no matter what you do, shower, swim, as long as the cross doesn't touch blood, the material will stay on the tip. There are millions of molecules on the tip. It will take only a few moments for the molecules to start replicating, and within several heartbeats, the agent will have spread through your body. It won't harm you until Soren drinks your blood. It has to affect the progenitor first. When you share blood with Soren, the Twelve and everyone else he's sired or shared his blood with will be affected and once it goes through them, every vampire they've made and every blood slave will be instantaneously infected. It should take about five minutes for each one to die. Thousands will die immediately. It will be a massive strike against the Twelve and Soren."
I put the cross back around my neck and take in a big breath.
"I'll do it."
; This memory takes only the briefest of seconds because I relive it in that strange time shift I experience when fighting.
So this is it. I've probably just signed my own death warrant. But I've just done what I've wanted to do since I learned that Soren killed my mother – or as I found out, that he compelled Michel and forced him to kill her. For a moment, elation fills me and I feel heat rise in my cheeks at the thought Soren will soon be dead, destroyed, a mass of denatured protein and plasma.
Then sadness fills me. It means I'll likely die. It could mean Michel and Julien die as well. It will certainly mean that every single vampire and blood slave that Soren and his Twelve created will die.
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.