The Forbidden Trilogy(254)

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."