Chapter 110 - Shattered Bloodlines
I looked at the titanium cylinder on the console. The master sovereign key. The repository of a bloodline that had enslaved nations, bought governments, and treated human flesh as raw material for an invisible throne.
Then I looked at Eleanor, sobbing on the floor, clinging to the hem of Victoria's trousers like a beaten animal.
And finally, I looked back at Clara. Her eyes were wide, but she didn't look at the gold or the screens. She looked at me. She remembered the cold cellar. She remembered the six words Eleanor had spoken while I bled on the dining room rug.
"You think you made me, Victoria?" I asked quietly.
Victoria frowned, the smile fading from her cold features. "I designed every trial you ever faced."
"No," I said, stepping forward. "My father was a coward who liked hurting smaller things. My mother was a coward who liked watching because it made her feel safe. And you're just an old monster hiding in a freezer, terrified of dying alone."
"Kill them," Victoria commanded coldly.
Before the lead operator could depress his trigger, Vance dropped. The thermite grenade he had palmed ripped from its pin and struck the center console beneath Victoria's chair.
*BOOM!*
White-hot, four-thousand-degree fire erupted across the command deck. The black obsidian shattered into molten glass.
I fired three rounds in half a second, the heavy 7.62mm slugs tearing through the necks of the two operators on the left. Vance rolled, his shotgun barking three times in rapid succession, turning the center of the platform into a storm of blood, lead, and screaming metal.
Eleanor screamed as the fire caught the hem of her cashmere coat. But instead of running, she lunged forward with a feral, desperate shriek, wrapping her burning arms around Victoria's legs.
"You promised!" Eleanor shrieked, her voice peeling with madness. "You promised I would be safe! You said if I let Arthur beat her, you would give me the estate!"
"Get off me, you wretched whore!" Victoria snarled, drawing a gold-plated derringer from her sleeve and firing directly into Eleanor’s chest.
Eleanor gasped, blood bubbling from her mouth, but she didn't let go. Her dying fingers locked into Victoria's tailored trousers like iron hooks, dragging the matriarch toward the edge of the shattered obsidian railing.
"Emily!" Vance yelled, taking a round to his side, stumbling toward the blast doors. "The structural integrity! The thermite hit the glacial coolant lines!"
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"Clara, run!" I screamed, grabbing Clara by the harness and tossing her into Vance’s arms. "Get to the airlock! NOW!"
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