Rage of Vendetta (The Vendetta Series #2)

BONUS STORY - Fact and Hearsay

"The driver is already suspicious we're drug-addicted teenage runaways and suddenly your streaks just start glowing!"

"I was background-checking," he insisted. "We need to make sure it's safe."

"Background-checking doesn't create a purple-tinted hundred-watt glow," she whispered sharply.

Eric wrinkled his nose, still most trapped under Sasha's arms like a steel cage. For such a slender frame, she was strong.

"Okay, so I sort of got into a conversation," he said. "It's not like I can help it. Animal communication doesn't have a meter before the hair starts glowing."

Besides, his weaker bloodline meant his streaks usually only took on a tiny gleam, so it could easily be explained as glow-in-the-dark dye. It probably existed. Somewhere.

Sasha finally released him. Eric searched the area around his foot, seeing nothing.

"You've scared it off," he whined.

Sasha visibly chose to ignore that.

"He's not taking us to Central Park at this hour, apparently," she explained in a low voice. "Just a motel in the outskirts. But we'll live."

The cab ride was shorter than Eric had expected. Within half an hour, they pulled up outside a neon-lit sign and Sasha tumbled out in a hurry, leaving Eric to pay the fare.

"Where are we?" Eric huffed when he finally caught up to Sasha. They looked up at a dingy motel.

"Not sure," Sasha replied, "but it's definitely worse than the one in New Zealand."

"Oh, boy, it's been a while."

Eric whirred around, searching for the strident voice.

Sasha looked simultaneously amused and fed-up. "Why are you twitching?" she asked plainly.

"Something's talking to us," he replied. He finally caught sight of small, ashy-grey bird with black wings, perched on a far branch.

"Just let it be!" Sasha groaned, taking ahold of Eric's hand. She tugged at him and his unmoving feet. "Let's go!"

"The last time the red-haired girl was here, I was but a hatchling."

Eric froze in his steps. "Wait. What?" he blurted out.

"Eric, ignore the bird!" Sasha chided.

"No, hold on!" he insisted, moving toward it and dragging Sasha along. The bird was watching him curiously, hopping with slow movements. Eric could tell it was old, perhaps nearing the end of its lifespan.

"What did you say before?" he asked it. Their nearby darkness lit up with purple.

"I recognize her, oh yes, I do," it chirped. "We have very good memories, you know."

With a start, it came to Eric's mind what this bird was. Clark's nutcracker, a species that could recall every single hiding place of its food sources.

"You recognize her?" Eric clarified with disbelief, pointing at Sasha.

Sasha blinked in surprise.

"Yep, yep, I do," it replied. "She looks exactly like her birth-giver. She, herself, was naught a bundle swathed in blankets."

Eric took a step back in shock.

"What's it saying?" Sasha pressed. She clutched Eric's shoulders and shook him slightly. "Eric!"

"Sash, I think this is the motel that Ariel told us about," Eric whispered in awe.

"The one Ariel told us about?" she repeated. "You mean the one Lilith showed her?"