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They all sit back in their chairs. A few seem pleased by my warning, while others look apprehensive. Byron’s glare only furthers my suspicion that he’s the traitor.
“Julian, I’d like to hear why you brought us together,” Count Sagar says, helping to get us to the point of this meeting.
I nod in gratitude.
“We are here today because my brother threatens to dismantle our entire society. The actions he’s taken will eventually result in our demise.”
“How?” Count Westoff asks, leaning forward, worry lining the corners of his piercing green eyes.
“He’s been producing an army of new bites to challenge my crown. These new vampires are uncontrollable. Their thirst is insatiable. They’ve decimated entire towns, tearing humans apart and leaving nothing but gore in their wake.”
A few of the Council pale at this news. Anyone with half a brain would understand why this is bad. The only reason any of them would get behind this is for more power. They’re convinced Marcellus will rule, so they’re going along with whatever he does. Even when it threatens everything. Power is a greedy monster that seduces weak creatures, and this room contains a few weaklings.
“So far, we’ve managed to convince the townspeople that there’s a serial killer running loose, but he’s producing these new vampires at such an alarming rate, we can’t keep up. Soon someone is going to start questioning how a single person could cause so much carnage.”
“How have you managed to keep this from us?” Count Dupré asks, just as we discussed.
“My brother and I”—I point to the corner where Law is seated—“have been cleaning up this mess for some time, but because of that, my duties as Crown have taken a back seat. That can no longer happen. I’m determined to see order back in this Council, and I intend to put a stop to this distraction.”
“How do we stop him?” Count Dupré asks, and a round of murmurs in agreement circulate the room.
“We cut him off at the knees. We send the message that his actions against the Crown won’t be tolerated. First, we stop the auction. Then we bring him to trial.”
“What does the auction have to do with anything?” Count Westoff inquires, voice strained and face red for the first time today. “It’s been a tradition for centuries. Humans have their own sort of auctions.”
Originally, I thought he’d be one of the easiest to bring to my side. Looking at him now, I’m not so sure.
“The auction is dangerous. As we speak, humans are starting mass campaigns to uncover criminal organizations associated with human trafficking. It’s likely that in their quest to end such a practice, they will uncover ours, which could unmask the whole of our society. Our survival depends on our ability to remain a myth.”
“How do you expect us to survive without blood?” someone calls, but I don’t know who it is. My focus remains on Count Byron, as I know he’s the traitor.
“You act as though the auction is our only means to acquire blood.” I throw my hands up in frustration. “How many of you have ever even patronized the auction?” I challenge, knowing full well that many of them sitting in front of me have never stepped foot in the auction. “It’s more about the money that lines your pockets from the auction than the blood, and you know it,” I snap. “It’s nothing but a grotesque show of wealth and power. Those humans are treated like nothing more than cattle,” I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the anger. I have to have my head about me.
“As we speak, Adèle Dupré is working with a scientist to create a synthetic blood alternative. She believes the prototype will be ready to sample soon. Stopping the auction won’t harm your ability to eat. It will just stop the enslavement and torture of innocent humans, and it will send a message to my brother’s accomplices that their time is up.”
“How will the blood alternative be monetized?” Count Dupré furthers the topic of Addy’s work.
“The price points have not been decided yet. Adèle believes her scientist can create different blood products for optimal energy. Her belief is that they can get these alternatives close to, if not exactly replicate, the various blood types we all enjoy now. Once that’s determined, pricing will be determined.”
“Will there be enough?” Westoff questions.
“There will be adequate supplies. However, this will be a supply-and-demand situation, much like the auction. That will drive pricing.”
They’re smiling. Every single one outside of Byron is beaming at this news.
“Synthetic blood,” Byron sneers. “You all think this is acceptable? What will it taste like? Will it be worth all the hassle?” His condescending attitude has my fists clenching at my sides. I want to lash out and strangle him, but I must show composure.
“Count Byron, if you’re so unhappy with an alternative and would rather new bites create a war that will dismantle the world, perhaps your seat should be the first I replace.”
Byron’s back straightens and his eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t dare.”
I place my hands on the desk and lean forward. “Try me. My father’s rule is over. This is mine.”
Byron sits back, lowering his gaze in a show of submission.
“Anyone else have something they want to say? Now’s your chance to make your stance known.” The room remains silent. “Good. Now, does anyone have news on the next auction?”
“The next auction happens in two weeks,” Count Alabaster chimes in from the far right corner.” His quick input speaks to my having won a few over. “I know that Marcellus is planning to attend.”
