Rage of Vendetta (The Vendetta Series #2)

Chapter 27

"But-"

There's a knock on the door, interrupting me, and we both turn to see an indigo-streaked, Asian woman poke her head through as she opens it.

“We all good in here?” she asks. 

I blink. Her accent is strongly German, though she looks like she could be Filipino. 

“We’re fine,” I reply.

“I heard thumping,” the woman tells us, striding in towards the small window at the wall. She pulls out a long necklace tucked inside her shirt. On the end of the chain is a purple-toned amethyst stone, which she taps firmly on the sill of the window. A bright, silver spark comes off like stray electricity. Sasha and I jump back.

The woman nods to herself, satisfied. 

“What was that?” Sasha asks.

“Just checking if the energy shields are up to par, especially after the attack,” she explains. “Masking our presence from Nephilum is hard enough without the occasional aggressive, non-brainwashed energy-user Cambion trying to ruin us.”

I frown at her words. Why would a sane Cambion try sabotage its own council for the Nephilum to find? 

“Does that happen often?” 

The woman throws her head back and laughs. “Oh, you’ve no idea. We’re demon children, love. The council gets death threats everyday simply for being a legal system.”

My eyes bug.

“You really have no idea, do you?” the woman asks, curious now. She tilts her head, considering something. “Come with me. I’m sure no one will mind if I educate the clueless youth at these hours.”

She heads for the door, and Sasha and I obediently follow after exchanging a look. 

“I’m Ann, by the way,” she tells us. “Telekinetic.”

“We assumed,” I say. 

“Is it custom for Cambions to introduce their ability even though it’s blatantly obvious?” Sasha muses at the same time.

Ann casts her a strange look, smiling in slight amusement but not responding.

We approach a messy office cubicle I assume is hers, equipped with at least three of every stationery item. I even spot a fourth stapler under a notepad.

Brushing a very pencils aside, Ann opens a file on her desktop. It enlarges into a large loading box, and as a play button pops onto the bar below, a freeze-frame image appears with it. 

Blood and bodies fill the screen. 

“Is that…?” Sasha begins, unable to go on. My stomach rolls.

Ann nods. “Just wait until you watch the entire thing.”

She hits play.

The video resembles security footage; its grainy and lags a little, the color tinting the scene brown when the shadows streaming along the people hint that it’s morning.

It seems innocent enough. People are waiting patiently in a line that splits to three bank tills, some tapping messages on their phones, others making conversation with each other.

But as the video ticks to the twenty-second mark, they begin to react. An old woman clutches her heart, screaming in fright. 

There’s no audio, but I wince. 

The scream causes the other people in line to turn, but they don’t react or run fast enough. At the thirty-second mark, they all go flying back like a scene out of a horror movie.