Page 106 of Let Sleeping Vampires Lie

CHAPTER 18

The auction rolled on, but my attention stayed fixed on Cerise and the quiet spaces between lots.

She leaned back in her chair, elegant and composed, as relics and rare tomes exchanged hands. Now and then her gaze drifted toward the stage, never for long, as if she already knew nothing before the final item truly mattered.

Valerian’s presence sat like a cold weight against my spine. Not crushing, not loud, simply there. Watching. Waiting.

The host returned to the podium after Item Nine, smoothing his jacket and allowing a practiced pause to stretch over the room. The murmur of voices dimmed. Even the enhanced guards at the walls seemed to focus.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, voice rich with satisfaction, “you have seen curiosities. You have purchased power. You have invested in your futures.”

A soft rumble of indulgent agreement drifted through the seats.

He smiled, slow and pleased. “Now you have the opportunity to change them.”

The lights lowered another fraction. Not dark enough to obscure faces, but enough to deepen the shadows, to frame the stage in something approaching reverence.

“Final lot of the evening,” he continued. “Exclusive. Singular. No replicas. No copies. Proprietary formula and complete process included. Field tested. Proven.”

He nodded toward the side curtain.

Two assistants emerged.

Between them, they carried a long, reinforced case. Not decorative. Efficient. Matte black, with multiple locking points and a sheen that told me it had been treated against magical tampering.

The air shifted.

Con’s posture behind my shoulder tightened almost imperceptibly.

Conversations faded completely as the case reached the center of the stage. The assistants set it on a raised stand that had not been used for any other item.

The host rested his hands lightly on either end of the case, like a priest about to open a reliquary.

“In a world that adores soldiers,” he said, “power often rests in numbers. But the future belongs to those who can elevate the individual unit.”

His gaze traveled the crowd, lingering briefly on certain faces. Criminals. Military contractors. Witches with mercenary eyes.

“Item Ten,” he said. “A complete enhancement protocol. Chemical base, vector, stabilizing agent, delivery system. Designed to create superlative human operatives.”

He spoke the next words carefully.

“Each subject becomes faster, stronger, more resilient, more obedient. Resistant to pain. Capable of operating against empowered opponents.”

His smile turned knife thin. “Effective even against vampires.”

A hush fell. Real, heavy, charged.

No one laughed this time.

He undid three locks in quick succession, then opened the lid.

Inside, nestled in foam, sat eight vials of pale, opalescent fluid. Each vial was capped in metal, sigils etched along the rim. Beside them lay a data drive and a slim stack of documents, bound by a metal clasp.

The energy that rose from the case made my skin crawl. Not magic. Something adjacent. Warped. Twisted.

The scent that wafted out was light, but it carried the same wrong note I remembered from the enhanced humans in the graveyard. Synthetic, pungent, almost metallic.

The host did not offer a closer look. He let the crowd stare for a few seconds, let the hunger climb behind their eyes, then closed the lid.