But Vance had slept with another one of his followers, a woman named Anna Mark. Anna had been a powerful talent, but she had left the cult when she discovered she was pregnant. She had hidden her relationship with Vance and managed to seduce an elderly, senile man into a quick Marriage of Convenience before her condition was obvious. Under the marriage laws, the birth of the baby had automatically converted the MC into a Covenant Marriage.
The result was that no one ever knew Vincent Lee Vance had fathered a daughter.
His talents had passed down through the family line, often skipping generations. When they did appear, the results were rarely good. Because the secret of Vance’s astonishing success was that he had been a triple talent. Statistically speaking, triple talents were not only psychically unstable but often died young. Those who survived usually ended up in para-psych wards.
Melody had inherited Vance’s three talents. Unlike her ancestors, she was psychically stable. She was strong. She was going to do what Vincent Lee Vance had failed to do—control the Federation of City-States.
She understood what Vance had not—there was no need to conduct an armed rebellion to build an empire. That was Old World thinking. True power in a modern society was achieved by controlling basic resources, technology, and weapons. That was the Vortex approach.
Taggert Spooner was aware she was ambitious, but he had no idea how ambitious. She was going to make Vincent Lee Vance’s vision come true, and she would do that by taking control of Vortex. Spooner had a role to play. He just didn’t know that yet.
She had a destiny to fulfill. Nothing would stop her.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The tornado was bigger, hotter, more ferocious than anything she had ever dealt with in the Underworld. It twisted violently over a lake of shimmering liquid crystal, creating roiling, crashing waves. The combined radiation of the churning lake and the vicious twister was more than enough to keep the small crowd at a respectful distance.
Ghost shit, Lucy thought. This is bad.
She had braced herself for a big one, but this sucker was a real monster. Otis hunkered down on her shoulder and muttered something that was probably dust bunny for Not a good idea.
Gabriel studied the scene and shook his head. He glanced at Elias Coppersmith, the man in charge of the Ghost City mining project.
“No wonder those other channelers were unable to take down that thing,” he said.
Elias nodded. “Worst storm we’ve run into down here.” He looked at Lucy. “What do you think? I don’t want you risking your life over that crazy weather.”
Never let the client see you sweat. She managed a confident smile. It was all about image.
“No problem,” she said. She turned back to Elias. “It would be a good idea if everyone took shelter inside the buildings.”
“Understood,” he said. He turned to face the onlookers. “You heard Ms. Bell. Everyone indoors.”
The small group retreated into a nearby structure. When the quicksilver door closed behind them, Lucy was left with Gabriel, Elias, and Otis.
She looked at the men. “Uh, maybe you two should—”
“No,” Gabriel said. “I’m in charge of keeping the personnel on-site safe. That includes you and Coppersmith.”
Elias smiled. “And I can’t leave, because I’m the one who has to secure the liquid crystal.”
Lucy knew she had no chance of talking them out of their decision to stay. “Okay, but if I say run, we all run. Got it?”
“Got it,” Gabriel said.
“Understood,” Elias said.
She reached up to touch Otis. “Here we go, pal. If this works, I’m buying pizza.”
Otis perked up at that.
She opened her senses, searching for the organizing vibe of the tornado. Technically, it would have been possible to generate a force field strong enough to allow her to walk straight into the storm by channeling an energy tunnel. She suspected it was the way the other weather channelers had managed to haul out a few canisters of the liquid crystal. It was probably the way they had died. You never knew when a tunnel would collapse, leaving you at the mercy of the powerful forces whirling around you. No one survived such an experience, at least not with their minds and senses intact.
The secret to taking down a serious storm was to locate the source of energy that was powering it and establish a destabilizing vibe. It was a variation on chaos theory. She was looking for the butterfly that had flapped its wings and set off a hurricane—or, in this case, a tornado. You couldn’t fight the storm, but if you could get hold of the damn butterfly, which, in this case, was apparently still flapping its wings …