Tentyrian Legacy (44 page)

It’s slim pickings in terms of what to wear,
and I’m faced with the same problem again of only having high heels
and no practical shoes. I eyed Shashandra’s feet earlier but they
couldn’t be more than a size

5. I’m a 9.5, a gift my mother and I both
share. It was a shame she never let me play in her shoe collection;
it’s vast enough to make any fashionista swoon. Well, heels it is
then. But maybe this isn’t a bad idea

. . . If I play the confident part, I can
maybe use it to my advantage. It works in business, so why not when
dealing with murderous vampires who intend to destroy the world? If
I need to run, I can always throw off the shoes. I select a black
Stella McCartney lace dress and gold brocade platform pumps
notorious for compliments but also blisters.

I have my wallet and Maximos’ phone but not a
purse to put them in. So I’ll travel light. I take out my driver’s
license, $200, and the mini Swiss Army knife I keep in my change
purse. I shove the contents in my bra; a trick Laura taught me. I
don’t have a place to put the phone, but there is no point in
bringing it. I have no one’s phone number, and the people I would
call have all been taken. I find the spare hair tie I also keep in
my wallet and manage to put my hair back into a low ponytail that I
hope is somewhat elegant. I can’t believe I’m going to attempt to
do this. I kneel on the floor, where I’ve placed the candle, and
hold up the zodiac pendant once again. It’s showtime.

2010 AD, July

Hamilton, New Jersey Trebuchet Global

“Calix, I’m tired of listening to the
doctor’s screams; it’s unsettling and bad for employee morale. The
humans aren’t completely stupid. They are going to realize that
there is more going on in here than ‘regulated human testing.’”

Even in her white lab coat, Aglaia manages to
look seductive. I can only imagine what she has on underneath.
Today, she is wearing her tortoise-rimmed glasses. It’s not like
she needs them to see with her more than perfect vision, but I
guess it’s a fashion statement these days. Her hair is pulled back,
creating a severe effect. Since our last spat, she won’t give me
the time of day. Not that I mind. We probably do make better
friends and occasional adversaries than lovers. But she is one of
the only remaining ties I have to Tentyris and the closest thing
I’ll probably ever have to a partner.

I’ll be the first to admit I’m vain. I have
no illusions that I am a good person. But it amazes me how deeply
people want to believe this about themselves. After being around
for as long as I have, you realize that most people live a lie, and
when push comes to shove, they will be selfish. Self-preservation
always wins. When I look back on Tentyris and when we ruled as part
of the Council, I do feel a twinge of regret. Mostly because it’s
lonely having only two peers, and Aglaia’s and Stavros’ company
does get old after a while . . .

My biggest regret, though, is Narcissa. Our
romance was brief but sweet, just like her life. But the monogamy,
loyalty, and virtue she demanded were exhausting. It was impossible
to live up to what she wanted—essentially Maximos—and that’s just
not me. The number of times I had to hear her scold me like a
schoolmarm for not being more like him was sickening. No
thanks.

So our relationship turned sour and ended.
But I never wanted her to die. Things should have, and could have,
turned out differently, but the coup went terribly wrong. If the
rest of the Council, including the Luminaries, had handed over
their power without a fight, they could have been spared. But I
guess they too wanted to believe they were good.

“Calix, are you listening to me?” an
impatient Aglaia interrupts my thoughts.

“Just following orders, Aglaia. Stavros
wanted me to break Raad— but I didn’t think when I did he’d go on
like this for so long. You are right, it is annoying.”

“Then make him shut up,” Aglaia snaps as she
checks something off on what looks like an endless list pinned to a
clipboard. A stickler for organization, Aglaia loves her lists. Our
businesses really would fail to run without her. I take a syringe
from the tray of instruments and inject the doctor with a heavy
dose of morphine. He’ll be quiet now. It will also make his blood
taste foul, but I’m quite full anyway. This will be my act of
goodwill for the day, lessening the man’s pain. Fortunately or
unfortunately, it will all be over for him soon enough. He was
stronger than I anticipated. But he finally succumbed to the
visions I put into his mind of the torture of his wife and
Arianna.

For most humans, when you put their own life
on the line, their instinct for self-preservation kicks in
immediately. They’ll do what you want. Not Aman Raad, though. It
was only when I instilled a vision of his wife and Arianna being
staked, to die a slow and torturous death favored by my old friend
Vlad III, Prince of Wallachia, did the doctor answer my questions.
Vlad, who made a name for himself as “Vlad the Impaler,” or
“Dracula” as humans like to call him today, had a knack for torture
that was even beyond me.

My how long ago that was . . . Vlad’s mistake
was in thinking that we would turn him. But we make Subordinates,
not equals. Vlad was one of few who we let know what we truly are.
Humans can be useful sometimes, especially when it comes to money
and politics. But like everyone else, he coveted our power and had
to be eliminated. His assassination in 1476 was a piece of cake.
But amazingly enough, his legend lives on in grossly inaccurate
vampire novels and movies. It’s quite funny how legends start,
especially when you know you are the root cause of them.

“We’re still moving the product, and this
room has gotten more than just a few suspicious looks from the
staff,” continues an irritated Aglaia. “I’m responsible for this
lab, and I run a tight ship.”

“Yes I know, as you so like to remind us. But
it won’t matter anymore. Once everything has been moved out through
the tunnels today, Stavros wants this place detonated—with everyone
inside. Well, not us of course,” I say.

Aglaia looks surprised as she pauses her
writing and gives her glasses a slight push up the bridge of her
nose. “I know we agreed to destroy the facility after we moved the
DTPA12, but I was under the impression we would close it down and
send the humans home?” she replies.

“Change of plans. You aren’t getting soft,
are you? The Brotherhood now knows about DTPA12. Stavros had Travis
leak the information directly to the Brotherhood’s informant at the
FDA this morning.” “Why?” she demands. Stavros is going to get
chewed out for this.

And believe me, Aglaia is a master at it.

“Because it was only a matter of time before
they found out. The drug is being approved in a matter of days, and
it will reach the press soon enough. Not to mention, the
Brotherhood always has a way of finding out where our operations
are—as you well know, based on the number of times you’ve had to
rebuild and restructure branches of Trebuchet. This time, Stavros
wants to draw them in, especially now that he knows the girl is
likely a Luminary descendent.”

“It sounds sloppy.”

“You would say that because you weren’t privy
to the plan. But don’t take offense, Aglaia, neither was I. You
know how Stavros is sometimes—always trying to keep the upper hand
over us. After I called him to explain what I learned from the
doctor, he told me the Brotherhood would likely be here in a matter
of hours.”

“A matter of hours!”

“Yes, so how much more of this do you need to
do?” I ask, gesturing to the bustling lab technicians.

“I could kill Stavros, along with you,” she
seethes. “You have no respect for me or any woman for that matter.
Fortunately for you all, I’m almost done.”

“Let’s not make this about women’s rights
again. I get it. I really do. Now let’s move on.” Aglaia looks
ready to rip my eyes out.

“The fail-safe system is prepped,” I explain
to her. “I have a Subordinate monitoring the security cameras and
several more Subordinates actively patrolling. When the Brotherhood
shows up, they’ve been instructed to notify me at once.”

“And then what?” she asks.

I take out my phone to show her. “There’s an
app for that. I press this button and the Brothers die.”

“Along with our staff?”

“Yep. That’s what’s great about it. The
Brotherhood won’t be expecting it, and they’ll never think this
place is rigged to blow. We’ve never sacrificed our own employees
before—at least, not intentionally.” “So we blow this place up,”
Aglaia replies. “Do you really think that is going to put a dent in
the Brotherhood’s force? Their numbers are considerably greater
than ours, lest you forget. We mostly have a bunch of moronic
animals working for us.”

“It will make a difference if they are going
to plan a simultaneous attack on our other facilities, just like
they did last night. The remaining buildings will be ready and
waiting to blow. Aglaia, we’ve upped the ante on them. We have the
doctor and Arianna’s friend, and we’ve clued the Brotherhood in on
what we’re doing. They are bound to panic and focus their efforts
on the only thing they can do right now—attack what they know is
ours.”

“Look,” she says. “I’m all for killing the
Brothers, Calix. Maximos’ and Aristos’ righteousness is enough to
make me gag. But in the long run, it doesn’t matter. We’ve designed
the release of the DTPA12 and the attacks perfectly. The
Brotherhood won’t be able to stop us.”

“Yes, but you are missing the one potential
flaw. The Parker girl. She could have Hathor’s power . . .”

Aglaia puts the clipboard down and puts her
hand on her hip in a sign of exasperation. “You and Stavros are
alarmed for nothing. You told me yourself, the doctor only knows of
her having one power—telepathy. Big deal. It’s not enough to foil
our plans.”

“Maybe. But Arianna is likely full Tentyrian
now . . .”

“And how long did it take us to master our
powers after we turned twenty-five?”

“Years. I get your point. But there is no
harm done in trying to kill the Brothers by blowing up some of our
warehouses and labs.”

“Only several million dollars, but it’s not
like you ever paid attention to the bottom line. Whatever, it’s
your prerogative. I won’t be mourning any deaths.”

“No, I’m sure you won’t, Aglaia.”

2010 AD, July

New York, New York Stavros’ Home

“You look quite fetching in that dress and
hat. Turn around for me one more time so I can admire you,” I say.
Laura Delia turns slowly for me, a slight smile on her lips,
allowing me a long look at her slim figure. The tea-length,
peach-colored strapless dress compliments her blonde hair and blue
eyes. It’s not as conservative as I’d prefer, but it’s what Bridget
picked out on short notice.

When I first came upon Laura in my room, she
wasn’t what I expected. She was beautiful to be sure, as Aglaia
implied, but there were no tears or even cries for help. She was
calm and composed. So unlike the victims that usually find their
ways to me. Tied to the bed as she was, it would have been easy
enough to ravish and drink from her. But I found her reasonableness
to confront me calmly about why she had been taken, well . . .
refreshing.

Laura said she would tell me about Arianna as
long as she was untied and given the respect she was due. So I had
tea brought up and, in a surreal encounter, we calmly conversed
while drinking a silk oolong. I even refrained from my usual
scotch, I was so fascinated. Simpering females can be entertaining
for a while, but they end up being the same—just another meal. This
female is quietly strong, intelligent, and undoubtedly delicious. I
determined to take my time before ripping into that beautiful neck
of hers.

We talked about Arianna and how she has a
knack for understanding people and their motivations. Laura
described it as intuition, but I know what it really is—Tentyrian
power. Laura said Arianna is very private and, although they are
friends, by most people’s standards they’re more like
acquaintances. Arianna’s primary focus is work. Laura described her
as withdrawn and “barely having a relationship with her family.”
Aside from knowing that, Laura rarely delves into personal details
with her. The Parker woman sounds like a real ball of fun. No
wonder Laura considers them mostly acquaintances. I sensed no guile
in what the delectable woman was saying.

When I asked about Aman Raad, she said she
knew that Arianna had a therapist of sorts. But then again, she
countered, doesn’t everyone have a therapist in New York these
days? Reasonable enough. But what Calix later revealed to me, after
breaking the doctor down, tells a much deeper story. Aman Raad knew
that Arianna Parker could read minds, and over the years he helped
her control that power. Calix relayed Raad’s knowledge of her
enlarged corpus callosum—a gift all Tentyrians share . . .

The facts are irrefutable. Arianna Parker is
a Tentyrian descendent. And I suspect with her ability to read
minds, she is one of the Luminaries’ ancestors. I just pray she
doesn’t have Hathor’s power. It shouldn’t be possible, but somehow
it happened. Which means the Luminaries’ children didn’t die like
they were supposed to and their line somehow escaped our detection
all this time.

When we escaped the Sanctum before it was
locked down, we were sure of our success. Calix was fortunate
enough to learn about the fail-safe key from Phoebe, a fact he
managed to obtain and help her forget while Selene weakened
Phoebe’s power after we kidnapped her. We thought the Covens were
fully eliminated and there were no survivors, aside from the
Tentyrian Guards we kept alive—for a while.