The Forbidden Trilogy (93 page)

But something pulled her out of that embrace, something cold
and sharp against her skin. A foreign power invaded her, one she recognized.

"Hang in there, Sis." Luke held the sphere against
her. "This thing healed you once. It can do it again."

Energy flowed into her, knitting her back together, but it
pulled from Luke. She tried to move, to push him away, but she couldn't do more
than beg through the blood in her mouth. "No. Don't."

Luke smiled through his tears. "I told you, Sis, I'd
always look out for you."

She smiled back, but didn't want him to be hurt.
Please,
Luke, don't sacrifice yourself like this.
Her words couldn't find their way
out of her body, and she sobbed inside at the loss of his life.

Then another life force filled her, and she felt the
pressure of someone else's hand.
Hunter.

He stood over her, clutching the sphere with Luke. "We
said after we got out of the valley, we'd be together. You can't leave me
now."

Hunter. My Hunter.
She didn't want to leave him, but
it wouldn't be enough. Now she would kill them both. She was too close to the
edge. It would take too much energy to bring her back from the brink—to heal
her body.

Except, instead of draining them, more energy joined.
Another hand held the sphere to her body. Agent Mark.

He smiled. "I should've stopped her sooner. You're a
hero, and we don't let hero's die if we can help it."

Soon more hands joined together, forming a human ring around
her—other agents, and her friends. The combined force of their life and energy
filled her like a drug, healing the wounds that threatened to steal her from
the world. Internal organs regrew, and a white light infused her in radiant
love. She opened herself to it, like she had in the valley, and allowed herself
to connect with them all, to become one with them in a way she never had
before. She saw for the first time how interconnected everyone was, how joined
they were to each other. The warmth in her grew and she closed her eyes. The
other light still called to her, and it would have been easy to go to it, but
this new light surrounded her now.

A soft breeze filled the air with the scent of star flowers.
An echo of Mr. K's voice rippled on the wind.
"You have more to do in
this world, more lessons to complete. Choose the harder path for the greater
reward."

A tear fell down her cheek as she considered all the people
who had given of themselves to save her.

Two roads. The easy one or the hard one? To sleep, or to
wake up to more?

Lucy opened her eyes and gasped.

Steele examined himself in the full-length mirror and
adjusted his silk tie. The Italian pinstripe suit fit him like a glove, and his
polished leather shoes shined, but his eyes still looked tired with dark
circles framing them. Last night he'd worked non-stop to complete the last
critical piece of his project: altering Sam's mind.

The simple alterations he'd made to keep her from contacting
her friends had proven effective, though she fought constantly. He'd never met
a more stubborn specimen, pushing at every turn, weakening his control on her.
A few times she nearly managed to connect mentally with someone else. He'd had
to maintain non-stop vigilance to keep her under his control, and he paid for
that today, but nothing could ruin what he had planned.

The eyes were a problem, a show of weakness. He grabbed his
makeup bag and lightly powdered the dark rings. The cameras would pick up any
flaw, and he couldn't allow that.

Someone knocked on the door.

Another dab on the left eye. "Enter."

Beleth walked in, with a presence that controlled a room.
Steele hated that presence.

He faced the man, who also looked tired. "Were you
successful?"

"No. They escaped back to the IPI base."

"How unfortunate. You would have had a particular
interest in one of them."

Beleth raised an eyebrow at that. A rare site: getting him
to show any curiosity or interest.

Steele said nothing more. There had been a time when they
would have shared truths and secrets. That time was long past. Now, information
was a weapon, and Steele used it better than anyone. "Is everything
prepared?"

"The conference room is ready. Grunt is in
position." Beleth paused, his voice strained as he continued. "You
have yet to give the order to start Operation Harvest. Would you like me to
begin?"

Beleth had never agreed with experimenting on children, but
he wasn't in charge. Still, sometimes he would push, sometimes he was a
problem, so Steele had been cautious.

"No need. I've handled it."

Beleth took a step forward, his fist curling. "Has it
begun?"

"It has been completed." Steele motioned to the
balcony. "See for yourself."

They walked out to the balcony. Below them, hundreds of
children were being led out of the facility, dressed in rags and chained
together in lines. They looked pale, hollow and weak.

Beleth clutched the rail. "No. What will happen to
them?"

"Some will be sold. Some will be gifted. They have
served their purpose." Steele reached into his pocket and drew out a
syringe with purple liquid.

He could almost feel the energy pulsing through it. He had
extracted powers from dozens of kids, picking the best ones, compiling them in
this syringe. Some kids he had left alone, like that girl with the healing
powers. He'd used her to heal his daughter, and he still hadn't discovered how
to take away the side-effects. That didn't matter. He'd have all the powers he
needed.

He admired the miracle in his hands. "Years of work,
and I finally have my chance."

"So do I." Beleth slapped the syringe out of
Steele's hand and it flew over the balcony.

Steele reached for it, but it slipped through his fingers
and landed below, shattering into pieces and staining the cement a purple hue.

Beleth collapsed, sweating.

That much defiance should have been impossible for him. How
could he have broken from Steele's control that long?

"You will never have what you want," Beleth said,
his voice weak and raspy.

Steele loomed over the man. They had been partners once,
working towards the same goal. How had things come to this? Beleth no longer
shared Steele's ideals, but Steele had known that for a long time, so he always
planned for contingencies.

He pulled another syringe from his pocket and wagged it in
front of his old friend. "Did you really think I made just one?"

With the drug he'd manufactured—the one on the streets—he
could amplify powers. By mixing it with the powers he extracted, he was able to
make over a hundred syringes' worth. Nothing would stop him now, not even
Beleth.

Beleth looked shocked by the syringe, but didn't speak.

Steele leaned against the railing and looked out at the
children trudging away, grateful once again that he had no empathy or silly
emotions to hinder him from realizing his full potential. The problem with
humans, and most paranormals, was that they let their feelings destroy any
chance of success they could have in the world.

"You would have been my right hand," he said,
"dealing out justice in this cruel world."

Beleth scoffed. "I would have been the hand that wiped
your ass."

"Yes, and you still will be. Go to the IPI base. Bring
Simmons to me. Kill the rest."

Beleth's mouth twitched as if to speak, but he couldn't. He
didn't have the reserve left to even disagree, especially as Steele tightened
his control over the man. Even delaying the order pushed at his limits. Steele
could feel the walls crumble, another soul that he'd crushed and owned, just
like he would Sam.

"I think you will find someone there of particular
interest." Steele smiled. "I wonder if you'll recognize him, before
you kill him."

***

Steele walked into a large conference room dominated by an
oval mahogany table and chairs. A camera had been set up across from the head
of the table, and was set to interrupt network broadcasts worldwide with his
demonstration. The richest and most powerful men in the world sat around the
table, dressed in their power suits, ready to hear what he had to say.

He greeted them each individually, shaking their hands.
"Each of you have been valued customers of my organization. You've paid
good money for the services of my paranormals, and because of you, I have been
able to complete the experiments that will change the world."

He sat at the head of the table.

Gregor Vetrov, a corrupt Russian politician, stood to
address him. "Why the camera, Mr. Steele?"

"Because we are making a statement, my friends. A
statement to the world."

The red light clicked on to show that it was recording. A
few of his guests fidgeted in discomfort and furrowed their brows in worry.
They had no vision, no balls to embrace the future, but he would teach them.

Steele faced the camera. "Citizens of this great
planet, welcome. You may not know me, but that's about to change. We are
standing on the precipice of a new era for humanity. For years, those with
paranormal powers have lived among you, walking in the shadows as dirty secrets
to be shunned, because the world wasn't prepared for us, for what we could do.
They would turn on us in jealously. So we worked in the shadows, growing in
power and strength, in part by working with respectable gentleman such as those
present with me, people who understood progress, who understood evolution. But
now, the time has come for paranormals to make themselves known. Now we have
the resources to defend ourselves. Now we even have the resources to share our
powers with those worthy of such an offering."

With a flick of his wrist, Steele motioned to the guards to
lay a small box in front of each of his guests.

"A gift to you, my friends. Open it."

Henry Dollinger, a client who once had Sam as his assigned
paranormal, pulled out a purple vial from the box. "What is this?"

"The future of man," said Steele. "Drink from
those vials, and then you shall have powers as well."

Several held up the vials, but none drank.

Dollinger sniffed it. "I've heard of this stuff. The
news says it's given some people powers. But they also say it's killed
others."

"The drug on the street is unrefined." Steele
lifted a vial and gazed into it. "People have not been using it as
intended."
A bit of a spin, but all's fair in war.
"What you
have before you is a guarantee."

"And what do you want from us in return?" asked
Gregor.

"Your support and your resources. Our governments, our
politicians, have carved out a nice little hole for themselves, in which they
spend their wealth in excess, and from which they shun others, letting them rot
in the dirt." Steele remembered sitting in the mud, rain pouring over him,
because the government had taken his house and his car—before he had powers,
when he had been weak.

"This substance—" He held up the drug.
"—gives everyone a chance at success."

Gregor did not look convinced. "If this substance is
for everyone, how does it help us?"

"The paranormals will need leaders, guardians."

Dollinger continued to stare at his vial. "Steele, I
don't know about this."

"I do." Gregor put the vial back in its box and
closed it. "It's insane. You want to give a weapon to the poor people of
this world. Understand, I have nothing against them. Those of you who know me,
know that I have struggled to rise from a low place myself. I remember the good
people that helped me, but I also remember the scum, those who threw away their
lives and abused those of others. Leave them in the dirt where they
belong." He spit through his lips to emphasize his point.

Steele ground his teeth. He'd feared they wouldn't
understand. "You are just like the corrupt men of which I speak, Gregor.
You've grown cozy in your position, fearful of change."

The old Russian shrugged. "Change is not always
good."

Dollinger put his vial down as well. "Revealing
paranormals may not be wise. People will rise up, like you said, and it won't
end well. I mean, you're talking about starting a war."

"With no army," added Gregor.

Steele smiled at that. He pushed a button on his table, and
turned in his chair. The wall behind him opened up, revealing a balcony,
showing one side of the facility. He stood and walked toward it.

The others, out of curiosity, followed. Their eyes widened
in shock as they witnessed what lay below.

"I think things will end well, indeed." Steele
gestured to his army. "Meet my Grunts. I have hundreds of them, all
genetically engineered and at my command. They are unstoppable."

At their head stood Grunt-1 dressed in red armor. Steele
telepathically commanded them to cheer, and they immediately began a low war
chant.

Gregor once again disrespected him by spitting at his work.
"You are mad. These are beasts. I will not be a part of this."

Steele sighed and turned to face the businessmen, and the
camera. "Do all of you agree with Gregor?"

Too scared to speak, to man-up to what was right, they
backed away.

Steele shrugged. "Then perhaps I
am
mad."

He injected the serum into his arm and collapsed to his knees,
a high filling him, his muscles straining, his veins pulsing. Pain filled his
body, cut at him like tiny razors lined with poison. His muscles grew,
stretching his skin, ripping parts of his suit as he tore his way into a new
body—a bigger, stronger, more powerful body. Bigger even than Beleth. Energy
flowed into him, easing the pain, fading it into nothing. A small price for
such a great reward.

Silence filled the room and the Russian gasped. "What
have you done to yourself?"