Page 77 of Tainted Souls
“I don’t like the idea of being a walking glow stick,” I admit, “but I can see the tactical advantage. Let’s do it.”
Dr. Song, a petite woman with short auburn hair and intense focus in her eyes, rises from her seat. “Great. Now, with that out of the way,” she says, pulling a metallic case from beneath the table and placing it in the center with deliberate care. Her fingers glide over a biometric lock, causing it to click open with a faint hiss. “This is a prototype I’ve been developing based on the data collected from the recent mass turnings.”
The case opens to reveal what looks like a silver baton, about the length of my forearm. With a gracious flick of her wrist, the baton extends, revealing intricate circuitry running along its surface like veins. “I call it the Disruptor,” Dr. Song explains, her voice taking on the edge of someone who has spentcountless hours perfecting something revolutionary. “It emits an electromagnetic frequency that interferes with the neural pathways vampires use to communicate telepathically.”
“Vampires don’t communicate telepathically,” I say, frowning.
“Not consciously, no, but research suggests the sire bond operates on a very similar principle—a subtle oscillation that resonates between maker and made,” Dr. Song explains.
I lean forward, suddenly very much intrigued. “You mean it could free Max from her control?”
Her face remains impassive. “Only temporarily. For any permanent solution, we would need this mission to be successful.”
“That could prove useful when we close in on Wraith,” Wei says. “Saves us the time of slicing through hordes of her minions.”
“What if it doesn’t work?” Lexa asks, her face revealing nothing of her thoughts.
“Then we’re no worse off than we are now,” Dr. Song answers, “and we’ll have valuable data for the next iteration.”
“Thank you, Dr. Song,” Lexa says before shifting her focus back to the group. “Alright. The first phase ofOperation Wraith: Captureis simple: Seraph presents herself as vulnerable, the sire appears, and the team closes in. The second phase is critical: secure the sire, including any significant followers, neutralize threats, and extract allies without casualties. We do not engage the Ravens unless absolutely unavoidable. Everyone clear?”
We all nod, studying the schematics projected onto the table, faces stern and determined.
Lexa stands, signaling the end of the meeting before turning to me. “Seraph, a word in private.”
As the others file out, I remain seated. Once we’re alone, she drops her professional mask, her shoulders relaxing slightly.
“Listen carefully.” She sits down next to me. “If the Ravens show up again, I want you to abort immediately. Don’t wait for my signal. Don’t try to complete the mission. Just get out.”
“I know.”
“And I know you, Seraph.” A hint of the old Lexa shows through, the one who trained alongside me all those years ago, and the one who knows my dark side a little too well. “You’ll push yourself too far, take unnecessary risks. And I—” She stops herself, composing her features. “This mission requires you alive.”
“Fine,” I concede, though reluctance colors my tone. “I won’t let any personal vendettas cloud my judgment.”
She nods, and we hook pinkies, sealing the promise.
CHAPTER 16
RAIN BEADS ONMYleather jacket as Dr. Davis leads me to the biological marker procedure.
When we arrive, a nurse greets me with businesslike courtesy, gesturing to a chair that looks more like something from a dentist’s office than a military installation.
She prepares a syringe filled with iridescent blue liquid, motioning for me to lie back.
I roll up my sleeve, the inside of my elbow exposed. “Any side effects I should know about?”
“Some patients report a minor elevation in body temperature, but it dissipates quickly,” Dr. Davis says, his hands held behind his back. “Bodily fluids may exhibit faint luminescence in darkness, resulting in glowing tears. Nothing else of significance.”
Great. Just what I need—to literally cry blue light if things go south.
I stare at the ceiling as the needle slides into my vein. The liquid feels cold at first, then spreads warmth through my arm and across my chest.
“How long before it takes full effect?” I ask, flexing my fingers as a test to see if there’s any immediate change.
“It’s already working.” He holds up a handheld scanner, its screen showing a ghostly outline of my body, pulsing with soft blue light. “Perfect distribution. You’re officially a living beacon.”
“Everything I ever hoped to become,” I mutter.
