In Vendetta House (The Vendetta Series #1)

Chapter 25

Chapter 25



"That's her, right?" I ask, tilting my head subtly to the girl in the food line.

Sasha shoots me a strange look from across the table.

"Aren't you the one who's trying to recruit her for this break-in mission?"

"Well, yeah, but I've never talked to her before."

"And now you can."

"What if she doesn't want to help?"

"She helps everyone. As long as you don't steal her books."

I glance over again. "You're the one who said Emily was the first person to discover the way around the anklets. She's probably powerful enough to blow me to chunks."

Sasha rolls her eyes and takes a sip of orange juice. "Go talk to her and get some food before you blow yourself up from anxiety." She nods at someone behind me. "Hey guys."

I turn to see Jesse and Eric approaching. They both grab a seat on either side of me.

"What's going on?" Eric asks.

"Nothing," I mutter. "Just continue eating."

I command my legs to stand. There's no turning back now. Problem is, I'm not just trying to hire help. I have something important that needed answering, but I'm not sure I want the answer.

As soon as I get up, Eric slides into my seat and starts telling Sasha about a spider he found in his drawer. Sasha isn't even listening, and is doodling on her napkin with a pencil nub.

I grab a tray, and shuffle in the line, taking a place behind Emily.

"Hi!" I chirp.

She looks up at me while grabbing a milk box and placing it on her tray.

"Hey," she replies, "Ariel, right?"

I nod. My mind whirls for a way to word my next question correctly. Damn it, I should have planned a conversation ahead of time.

"So I was wondering," I begin, "Since I've been told you know your stuff around here."

Emily peers at me strangely.

"You know, hypothetically," I ramble on, moving up the line. "Not completely seriously."

"Just spit it out," she says, amused.

"Say, if someone wanted to exit their wing after lights-out," I say slowly, gauging her reaction. "Would telekinesis be able to bend the sensors to get past?" And would you help? But I don't say the second part out loud yet.

Emily raises an eyebrow but otherwise keeps her face impassive.

"Who did you hear about the sensors from?" she asks.

"Uh... some... body...?"

Dear god, that had to be the worse mysterious answer ever. I suck at this.

She throws her head back and laughs. "Okay, that's fine. I can guess anyway. To answer your question: sort of. The sensors are laser beams; light particles. Telekenisis can bend light. But it takes skill and high ability."

High ability? I wonder...

"How much do you know about all the abilities?" I ask her. This is the part where I try meddle for more information. I keep my voice down as the lunch lady spoons a clump of who-knows-what onto my plate. "Or do you only know so much about your own two domains?"

"I know enough," she says, her voice matching my volume as the lunch ladies give suspicious looks. "The Cambion powers, apart from spirit seeing, all really work in the same way: simply with different effects. Did you know in early origins we were simply known as witches and warlocks?"

I nod. I'd figured that much. Even in my books, witches and warlocks were human and demon offspring. Since that is what we are, Cambions must have simply been mistaken as witches over time and stories. Our abilities certainly seemed enough like magic and spells.

"What about the bloodlines?" I ask, hoping my tone conveys a 'please-keep-talking' message. "Does that affect your ability strength?"

"Of course," she exclaims.

I glance down the line to see there is ages until we reach the end. Good.

"In first-generation Cambions, complete half-human, half-demons," she explains, lowering her voice again, "they are always born to grow into one main power and several invisible ones that don't surface."

"What? So half-demons always only have one ability?"

"Just keep listening. That first-generation will only have one main power, but it will be extremely strong, and have a few talents within it that more diluted blood can't have. Their children however, a second-generation would end up with all powers on equal display, as the strong concentration to one disappears."

My feet stop moving. My tray nearly slips from my sweaty hands. It takes immense effort to get my muscles to work again and keep moving up the line.

"The third-generation returns to the one power the first-generation has," she continues, either not seeing my distress or not thinking it to be a big deal. "Only it's much weaker. That one power is then passed onto the further generations until the DNA can't be bothered showing up or it disappears."

That much I knew.

"What about the kids with more than one color?" I ask weakly, "Like you?"

"Some kids will have two or three colors because Cambions of different abilities reproduced within themselves," she says simply.

Well, there we go. Now I had complete understanding of all this. I couldn't decide what freaked me out more. Perhaps the fact that my mom is a half-demon? Does dad know?

"That's what I am, isn't it?" I whisper, "A second-generation?"

Her smile answers it.

"Is this common knowledge?" I hiss suddenly, "That my hair shows I'm a quarter-demon?" I look around. "Do people know?"

"Actually," she says smugly, "No one knows."

I almost drop my tray again.

"So, Dr. White, Dr, Hood. They... they don't know this?" I repeat again, just to confirm.

Emily shakes her head. "There hasn't been a first, or second, generation Cambion in decades. Demons on Earth are dying out, remember? The Council only formed in the recent threat of full-out war about ten years ago. That's how young the official files are. Before, everybody lived scattered."

"If it's such a secret, why are you trusting me to tell all this?" I ask. "And how do you know in the first place?"

"You have a right to know, I figured no one else would tell you," she says, sticking the plastic straw into her milk box and drinking while we wait. "And, I know all this because I have a second-generation grandmother. She was one of those shut-ins. I practically grew up with her after the age of eight since both my parents were so busy, being on the council. I was the most risky kidnap because of that."

Why would it be risky?

"Dr. White told me this is all legal," I say, and repeat: "made as a law that we can have teachings by the Cambion council."

Emily's lip curls up in disgust. "Please. She lied. Cambion laws aren't different from human laws at all, Ariel. Teachings happen in schools, with permission. This? This would all be torn down if one of us could just escape and get word out."

"But there's no way to do that, is there?" I say, bitterness seeping into my low voice. "Because no matter how much we team up with practiced powers, we can't escape without help from the outside."

"Now, now," Emily drawls. "That's not true. In honesty, we just need an advantage, the upper-hand. Control, and precognitive warning." She looks me in the eye. "Isn't that why you're trying to break into the computer files?"

Partly. Yes, I did want the files. I wanted to know what this place is really about. But mostly I wanted to see if there were notes on my family and if I could contact them.

"How did you know it was the computer I wanted?" I ask.

She adjusts her glasses, and stares ahead. "Because I have been asked about it many times. I can manipulate the light beams, and sure, I'll help. But you should be warned that some other attempts have found what they were looking for. It wasn't long before those who looked at what they weren't supposed to tried to do something about it and disappeared."

We are near the end of the line.

"I'll bend the beams in my room," she decides. "I'm not risking being taken. You're in the guys' wing too, right?"

"Yes."

"Those I can bend easily. Tonight, at 3 AM. Rain or shine. Any other problems I'm sure you can figure out on your own."

Hopefully. I always have my new energy powers.

"One more question," I say, holding out my tray for the last lot of food. "Is it normal for a second-generation to be able to use their powers to the full on the first try and not feel an anklet shock?"

Emily regards me curiously, as if debating whether or not I am being serious. "I don't know," she says, laughing. "Truly no idea. Perhaps you simply have a resistance to electricity when blowing things up."

Doubtful.

"Who says I was talking about me?" I mutter under my breath.

She ignores it, grinning at a fair-haired, green-streaked, green-eyed boy who is waving at her by the table next to the window.

"Don't forget. Rain or shine," Emily says, walking off towards the chattering group the boy is sitting with. I think his name is Percy. How ironic. He looks just like Percy Jackson from the books, except with fair hair instead of dark. And his name is Percy. My eyes widen, there's no such Cambion ability as getting fictional characters to come to life, is there? I'd like that ability. I need a Jace Herondale.


I roll my eyes at myself and start towards my own table. Someone grabs my arm, stopping me. A strong, intense waft of pine attacks my nostrils. Coughing, I turn around to a girl my height who is glancing around wildly.

"Ruby?" I ask, recognizing the hair. "Hi!"

She startles me by suddenly snapping her gaze onto mine, wordless.

"Ruby?" I say again. "You want to sit with us? I'm sure Sasha wants to catch up with you."

Ruby shakes her head slowly. Then, she opens her mouth. I definitely don't expect her voice to come out two-toned and echoing.

"The Daughter of Eve will fall," she says quietly as I step back horrified. "It is writ in stone. Don't let the sides collide, or the fallen will perish permanently."

Ruby steps back and inhales deeply while she bobs her head as if mildly spasming a few times. She widens her eyes at me, then abandons her tray and skitters out of the cafeteria.

Did I just get prophesied?

I finish the remaining steps to my table, weirded out.

"Air?" Sasha says, kicking my foot under the table. "You look like you've just seen a ghost. Again."

Jesse glances around. "Nope, no ghosts here," he confirms, joking.

I shake my head, resting it on the heel of my hand. My head swirls with the beginning of a headache.

"So how'd it go?" Eric asks, "Are we really playing secret agent?"

I nod into my palm. "Yeah, 3 AM tonight. Rain or shine apparently, except for the fact it doesn't rain or shine indoors."

"I saw you taking to Ruby," Sasha says. "Is she okay? I haven't spoken to her since Garnet was taken."

Taken. The word jumps around so surely in the air. It's not just 'disappeared' now. It's taken.

I look at Sasha, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "I don't know. It depends. Has she always been this..." I search for the right word. Loopy? Manic? Unbalanced?

Jesse snorts at my silent descriptions. I give him a slight glare as I block off my mind.

"Off?" I fill in instead. "She seems a bit off."

Sasha's gaze falls on the tray Ruby had dumped on an empty table. "What do you mean?"

I bite my lip, trying to explain how much she unnerved me.

"She... spouted out this warning. And well, it wasn't just that. Her voice, it sounded doubled; one deeper than the other, going at the same time."

Jesse and Eric exchange a confused look as Sasha just appears like she has no idea what I mean.

"What did she say?" Jesse asks.

I stare at the wall and pick off bits of bread as I try to recite: ""The Daughter of Eve will fall. It is... something in stone. Don't let the sides collide, er... something something something will perish permanently."

Eric wrinkles his nose. "It doesn't even rhyme. So much for a creepy possession."

"Possession warnings don't rhyme," Sasha says.

"Yes they do!"

"No they don't."

"Daughter of Eve," I interrupt, "What does that mean?"

Sasha shrugs. "Why don't we just go ask her? She's probably on her room or already in her first class."

I fiddle with the collar of my shirt. Ruby creeped me out a little. Just a little.

"Okay," I agree anyway.

As we get up from our seats, feedback screeches across the room. I spot Aunt Nelly on the far side beside the doors tapping into her iPhone.

"Attention!" she calls into it somberly. Holy crap, it doubled as a microphone as well? What kind of a phone is that? "Everyone take a seat please."

"This better not be a speech," Sasha mutters as we sit right back down.

I sincerely hope it will be. Her icy demeanor is like a slap to the face. Another bullshit speech would be better than what she's about to say. From the way she eyes kids one by one as they fall into silence: this can't be good. Not at all.

The doors open as some teachers usher in the kids that had left already. Ruby enters and sits down, her face drained of blood. I see Sasha catch her eye, and Ruby glances away hastily.

"As you all well know," Aunt Nelly broadcasts into her phone as her heels click slowly down the marble floor, "there was an attack only yesterday." She stops, and her eyes narrow. "A Nephilum attack."

The announcement isn't a surprise, but many are beginning to fidget at the mention of a Nephilum risk. And others, like me, are preparing for whatever she's going to throw at us. There's a reason why she's bringing this up. There's a reason for why she looks like she wants to murder someone.

"Since discussing with the elder of the group that attacked our House, we've determined what has brought them here. However, they retreated peacefully after I assured them we are here for peaceful purposes."

Yeah, right.

"Dr. Hood and I spent a long time discussing for the best way to treat this development. I'm sure you're all wondering why they were here."

Sasha shifts in her seat, as if in a smug show of already knowing.

"The Nephilum did not feel a demonic presence like you may believe," Aunt Nelly snaps into the phone. "They claim I have stolen an angelic relic."

"Have you?" a brave soul's voice pipes up from one of the tables at the back.

Aunt Nelly's head snaps back at the voice faster than the speed of light, and booms, "Of course not!"

My brows furrow slightly at her claim. She doesn't sound like she's lying. Then again, she is an excellent liar. We've been over this. The only question I can form is: Why is she even telling everyone all this?

"I won't lie to you," she states. "There is only one explanation to which we have concluded."

Her cold glare shifts from face to face, and stops at mine as she speaks. "We have a spy. Not just a spy, a Nephilum spy."

Horrified 'No way!'s and nervous laughter breaks out. They think she is joking. Our table stays silent as we weigh in what she's trying to suggest. Could the angelic presence really be a strong Nephilum and not a relic? What is she staring at me for? As if I could really be a secret Nephilum.

"The Nephilum are very smart," she says, finally breaking our eye contact, "but they are not all united. The group that attacked us is most likely a rivaling group to the spy. They would have thought the notion of a spy as preposterous and put it off as a relic."

The idea of a spy is preposterous. Everyone in here has streaks.

"I guess I should really be thankful we were warned of the presence in advance, before the group the spy works for really attacked. I do not know how the spy can feed information, but it is obviously one of the students we kindly took in." She stands up straighter. "One of you."

Everyone is so shell-shocked with this accusation you could hear a pin drop. This is stupid. It could just as likely be an adult.

Something is bothering me. If the Nephilum aren't united, yet the 'groups' were still so large, just how many Nephilum are there? What did this mean for us?

"I hope you can all understand what we must do to out this spy. I hope you can understand the lengths we must go through to keep Vendetta House safe."

My hand grips the big, red apple on my tray. I squeeze and squeeze to keep my mouth shut until sweet, sticky juice squirts out and dribbles down my arm.

We all understand exactly what she's implying. Aunt Nelly does not even say it. Nephilum had an insane battle lust when fighting or protecting. I always prepped myself that we would be shoved back in, but I never thought it would be this early.

"I'll give you all 30 minutes to get prepared. I expect to see everyone waiting to be confirmed." Aunt Nelly marches out with her head held high, as if she hadn't just announced someone here doesn't belong.

Someone doesn't belong. The shockwave buzzes within me as it settles. Someone doesn't belong. Would this person be in favor of freeing us as captives? Or would they have their own sinister purpose behind? Would their purpose be worse than Dr. Hood's killing (which I still couldn't connect to anything)? Now everyone else had to suffer while Aunt Nelly weeded them out. My eyes squeeze shut. I am so close on my way to freedom. The computer would give me answers, but now here we are: with this getting in the way. I grit my teeth together to keep from screaming out in frustration. What if I don't make it out alive? What if someone, anyone, doesn't make it out alive? Many kids here don't have the first clue about fighting. Some barely got past the Level 2. I couldn't let Aunt Nelly do this.

I lift my head up slowly to meet my friends' blank stares. In this very moment, as I see the desperation and helplessness, I swear to myself: I will do whatever it takes to protect my newfound friends, my allies. We will achieve freedom. We shouldn't suffer like this.

Every face I see is in a similar stupefied state, refusing to acknowledge the idea that had haunted everyone since the very first time they went through 'tradition'. It doesn't take a genius to figure out the danger.

I take it onto myself to voice the single thing on every mind. My voice is a hoarse whisper.

"We're going back into the stimulation, aren't we?"