High Society (The High Stakes Saga #3)

“I know, sir –” Kael blubbered.

“I trusted you to ensure they would travel to the precise moment I chose, yet they did not arrive.”

“Yes, but –”

“So why should I believe you now?” Victor continued unabated. “When you say Eve is most likely dead, and Titus and Abram are probably alive, why should I trust what you’re saying?” Victor stopped pacing and stared at Kael with his brows raised.

“Something must have gone wrong,” Kael supplied weakly.

A loud ping came from Kael’s tablet, followed by a rhythmic beeping noise. “What was that?” Victor asked.

“It’s…Eve.”

“The same Eve you presumed dead only seconds ago? That Eve?”

“She isn’t dead, after all. Her vitals are registering now, and they’re strong. She’s alive.”

Victor was about to explode. “Where is she?”

“They – I don’t know, sir. I can’t trace them.”

“Kael,” Victor said calmly. “Find my Assets and deploy the clones.”

“I think sending the clones now would be a mistake, Victor.”

Victor gave him a placating smile and then asked, “Remind me…Who is the commander of our military, Kael?”

“You are,” he gritted.

“Who do the clones answer to?”

“They answer to you,” Kael said, straightening his thick glasses.

“And to whom do you answer?” Victor asked.

Kael pinched his lips before saying, “I answer to you, sir.”

“Good. Now deploy the damned clones.”

“All of them?”

Victor braced his hands against the table. “All of them. And you’d better follow my instructions to the letter this time. They better land when and where we discussed. And if I find out they didn’t…”

Kael picked up his tablet and pushed back his chair. “You’ll what? You can’t do any of this without me. Maybe you should remember that.”

My brows rose right along with Victor’s as Kael stormed from the room.

That was two days after they jumped. Now, check this out… Yarrow typed.

A second video popped onto the screen. Thousands of Eve’s clones stood in formation in an endless sea of neat rows. Though they were clones, they didn’t appear robotic in the slightest. Each one looked like Eve on the outside, but to the careful observer, there were differences. Some looked angry, while others gave me the impression they were just doing what they needed to do to get by. Each held a wooden stake and went through defensive stances and drills, thrusting their stakes in wide arcs, then plunging it into the air in front of them. They repeated those motions over and over as sweat poured off their temples and soaked columns down the backs of their identical shirts.

Out of sight of the camera, someone shouted commands into a microphone. I couldn’t place the voice, but then the video changed to a raw feed from the ground.

“We have to get this shot right, or Victor will have our heads,” a male voice instructed. “Do it again. From the top.”

A woman stippled gray powder onto the face of a male. When she was satisfied with the tone of his skin, he snapped a set of fake fangs onto his canines. “Do they look okay?” he asked the woman anxiously.

“Ferocious,” she deadpanned, staring at the sky. “Can we hurry up? It’s almost dusk and the real vamps will be out soon. I don’t want to be on their menu.”