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Raven's Blood


Raven’s Blood

  By Cassandra Lawson

  Copyright ©2014 Cassandra Lawson

  Cover Design by J.N. Sheats

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by federal law enforcement agencies and is punishable by up to five years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Also by Cassandra Lawson

  Love Without Batteries Series

  Dirty at 30 (Book 1)

  Naughty at 30 (Book 2)

  Moon Virus Series

  Embrace the Heat (Book 2)

  Seducing Death (Book 3)

  Shattered Restraint (Book 4)

  Impulsive Destiny (Book 5)

  Untamed Winter (Book6)

  Psy-Vamp Series

  Vampires and Vixens (Book 1)

  Safe Hex With a Vampire (Book 2)

  Vampires Prefer Blondes (Book 3)

  The Vampire Will See You Now (Book 4)

  Wanton with a Vampire (Book 5)

  Vampire in Geek’s Clothing (Book 6)

  Spells That Bind Series

  Sinfully Spellbound (Book 1)

  Shamelessly Spellbound (Book 2)

  Acknowledgments

  Many wonderful people contributed to this book. First, I want to thank all my readers who have encouraged me with my writing. The reviews you write and the notes you send me on Facebook mean the world to me. I also want to thank Kari, Levenia, Melissa, Ria, and Trista for your input on this book. I could not have done it without you. As always, I could not have done this without my husband’s willingness to put up with me locking myself in the office for hours to write. Finally, I want to thank my family who has shown me so much support over the years.

  Prologue

  Charles Graham III, CEO of Graham Pharmaceuticals looked around the room at his inner circle. While some were board members of his company, most were his trusted and loyal friends. They shared his view of the world and were the only ones he could trust with his plan to save the country. He wanted this to be a relaxed gathering among friends, which was why he’d chosen to meet at his Diablo home, rather than in his boardroom. Everyone was seated in his lavish family room with its comfortable sofas and armchairs. There was a television taking up most of one wall, along with the gaming systems his fourteen year old son wasted most of his time playing.

  While he hated the San Francisco Bay Area, he had to admit that Diablo was livable. He still regretted his decision to move the main pharmaceutical plant to Oakland, but the city had been desperate to rebuild certain areas, and his wife had been desperate to move back to California. His idea had come while driving past the homeless people in the communities surrounding his home.

  As he looked around the room, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and smiled. Modern advances in cosmetic surgery allowed him to retain a youthful appearance at the age of forty-three. His pale blond hair had thinned some in his twenties, but he’d quickly remedied that with a pill. Thanks to the occasional injections, there was not a single line around his blue eyes. His lack of chin had been easily repaired. Now, he was a man with striking features and an impressive physique due to his time with a personal trainer.

  “My dear friends,” he began in his CEO voice, “our country is faced with a crisis the likes of which we have never experienced before. We have survived government shutdowns, both federal and state. Our military has been denied pay for defending our country. Crime is on the rise. Our credit worthiness with other countries is plummeting. The list of problems goes on and on, but the blame for these problems can be laid squarely on the lower classes who drain our precious resources. We pay for their healthcare and the lifelong care of their drug addicted babies. We pay to keep them alive in prisons for years, knowing they will never be rehabilitated. These leeches continue to suck the lifeblood from our country and reproduce at frightening rates. We cannot allow this to continue. Why should hard-working Americans, like us, support these useless creatures?”

  “It’s not that I don’t agree that the poor are a drain on our country,” his close friend, Senator Crane, stated. He wasn’t one to spend money on his appearance, and he played the role of the elderly southern gentleman with his white hair and rounded belly. He laid the blame for that belly on his wife’s good cooking, even though they’d always had a cook. “The liberals won’t let us cut them off. They say it’s inhumane.” The last was said with a sneer. “I’ve tried countless times to support bills to cut government aid and force people to work, but the liberals whine and cry about the starving children. I don’t know how you can live with them here in California.”

  Charles knew Crane was right. It had been even clearer to him since he’d moved to California. The liberals ran this state, and they made sure his tax dollars were spent supporting the poor rather than reducing the state’s overwhelming debt. That was why he’d decided it was time for a more creative approach to the problem. He smiled with anticipation as he prepared to tell them his plan. “The only logical solution is to euthanize the leeches.”

  There were several gasps, but Charles could tell that even those who were genuinely shocked, were also intrigued.

  Crane snorted. “There is no way we can kill off the poor.”

  “Ah, but there is,” Charles assured him. “All we have to do is disguise it as something the liberals will approve of. You are all aware of the new strain of flu rapidly spreading in China. Well over a thousand people have died already. People are scrambling to find a vaccine before it hits our country, and we already have the vaccine. Since we were the ones to introduce the flu virus, it was easy to develop a vaccine.”

  “You introduced a virus that could kill us all?” gasped his dear friend, Olivia Martinez, from the CDC. He could see the flush under her caramel-colored skin. She hadn’t dressed down like the rest of them. She’d worked hard to gain her position and preferred to remain in her power suits.

  “Not to worry,” he soothed. “As I said, we already have the vaccine, and it has been thoroughly tested.”

  “So, you plan to offer the vaccine only to the upper classes?” asked Brice Lowell, a high-ranking official at the FDA. “That’ll never work. Even if I can push the approval through quickly, it would be selectively given to those at risk first.”

  “Why, no,” Charles replied with a genial smile, “I plan to give it to every American citizen, free of cost. What the hell! We’ll even give it to the illegal immigrants. In fact, the powers that be will require people to get the vaccine. It will be given in schools, prisons, free clinics, and everywhere else the poor scum congregate, as well as at our better establishments.”

  “Then I don’t see the point,” Crane snapped impatiently.

  “The vaccine given to the poor will include a new virus that was developed by a brilliant team of scientists, headed by a man named Dr. Harold Moon. In his honor, we’re calling it the Moon virus. The Moon virus is fast-acting and attacks through saliva and blood. Naturally, the flu vaccines given to the right people will also contain a vaccine for the Moon virus. The virus acts so quickly that those infected will be dead within twelve hours. The research was disguised as a team of scientists trying to find a more humane execution method. Fear not my squeamish friends. It is a very humane and painless death. People will simply fall asleep and never wake up. To avoid being linked with the virus, we cremated the bodies of the volunteer test subjects immediately after their demise. Without the poor bastards sucking the lifeblood from our country, we can finally return to the proud nation we once were.”

  “Won’t it seem suspicious if everyone in certain areas suddenly dies? How will we explain how widespread it is?” These questions naturally came from Olivia Martinez with the CDC.

  Senator Cra
ne nodded. “She makes an excellent point. Someone will figure out there’s a connection.”

  “Yes, they would,” Charles agreed. “We have to avoid having the outbreaks look intentional. Alaska and Hawaii will not be infected with the Moon virus at all. We will have scattered cases in wealthier communities. Some poor communities will be left unscathed. We’ll still need people to perform manual labor. I’ve made plans to get the virus into the Amish communities, who will naturally refuse to get the flu vaccine. There will be no way to connect it to the mandatory vaccinations. While some may be suspicious, I’m sure the CDC’s finding that it is a fast acting virus, as well as the government’s assurances that it was not chemical warfare, will calm their fears.”

  Charles smiled with confidence. Soon, the country would be as it should be. His friends still looked uneasy, but most had started to smile. Soon, his plan would be in motion.