Sebastian didn’t know what had happened, not yet, but he knew Paul had been one step ahead of him. Paul had somehow engineered a trap and Sebastian had sent—no, forced—Ron’s men to march straight into it.

CHAPTER 20

THE GENERAL PUBLIC didn’t know much in the way of specifics about the actual workings of the blood world—how it was run and who ran it, how transfusions were performed—and for very good reason. Law enforcement agencies, private investigators, legitimate journalists, and hacks were constantly out in the field, digging for information to lead them to an actual blood farm, looking to talk to people who had undergone a successful blood transfusion. Not surprisingly, few people were willing to talk on the record, because carrier blood was illegal. True carrier blood was as rare as the Hope Diamond, and ridiculously expensive, so only the überrich could afford it. They got their blood in secret, the transfusions performed by experienced medical professionals. If you weren’t part of the elite, then you had to take your chances on finding what you prayed to God was legitimate carrier blood that fit your budget. This second-tier level was peddled mainly by the Mexican cartel.

These were the prevailing theories on the Internet, where people took to social media and discussion websites like Reddit to post their opinions and experiences. People were more comfortable sharing both the truth and bullshit there, because they labored under the delusion that they could hide behind a username and remain private, which was why Ellie spent much of her time on the deep, dark web, in chat rooms on restricted websites that didn’t show up in Internet searches. These sites were harder to find and, generally speaking, unknown to law enforcement. There, Ellie had spent thousands and thousands of hours searching for her elusive white whale—stories from people who had received successful transfusions using what was generally considered the single best blood product available: Pandora.

The problem was, there was no way to know who was telling the truth. Still, Ellie combed through each post carefully, trusting her gut instincts as to which users were telling the truth or clamoring around it.

Ellie recalled a post from one user named PandoraAngels333. She remembered the username because the person who had written the message, a woman who claimed she was in her early fifties but easily passed for thirty, said something that had always stuck with Ellie: “Getting Pandora is like welcoming the entire Kingdom of Heaven into your heart. Your skin glows like an angel & you feel beautiful & warm & safe & confident, like God Himself is with you, wrapping you in His Almighty Love. God is real, and I am no longer afraid. I am now complete.”

Ellie carried those words with her when she started working at Frank’s so-called Celebrity Center. To the public, it was known as the Los Angeles Health and Wellness Center, a legitimate business that did, in fact, cater to a number of celebrities. The Center, as it was called, wanted to be a one-stop shop for all your physical, mental, and spiritual needs. It was a hybrid of legitimate Western medicine and what Ellie called typical hippie-dippie LA bullshit. The place also offered a line of ridiculously expensive skin care products enhanced with collagen and a whole bunch of other so-called natural and organic ingredients that helped you look younger, fresher, and rested. The Center couldn’t keep them in stock. Business was booming.