In Vendetta House (The Vendetta Series #1)

Chapter 35

Chapter 35


As the days pass one by one, it gets colder and colder. I get through everyday wearing thicker clothes and carrying more impatience. Nearly the entire week passes without any incidence: we get up; we eat; we go to class; we eat; we sit around doing nothing productive; then we sleep. Jesse and I still train in the attic, even though the spirit no longer screams anymore.

"Do you think maybe she moved on?" he had asked one night. I had known exactly who he was referring.

"No," I had replied, flipping him onto his back while he was distracted. "I think she's-oof-finally realized screaming is not doing any good." I had contemplated a while before saying what I said next, in fear of seeming overly paranoid. "I feel like she's still watching, lurking in my peripheral vision sometimes."

He'd also stayed quiet for a while, before striking back with a really painful knee and replying, "Thank god. I get that too sometimes. I thought I was going insane."

I try not to think about Cecily, because the thought of so many people dead or dying under Aunt Nelly's hand makes me shifty when I face her. I shove it to the back of my mind, and pretend it isn't happening until I have to draw out all that anger again to remind me what I'm aiming for.

Strangely, throughout the entire time, I get no new visions. I begin to worry if something is wrong with my ability, or if there's just nothing interesting to show me. I was so looking forward to see how Jesse grew up.

Edging closer and closer to Saturday, I begin to get more edgy and snappy. Three days ago, I was close to pulling out a girl's hair. She sat in front of me in class, and kept flipping it onto my desk in class. Yesterday, a boy was blocking the entrance to my English class, thinking it was funny to create a crowd. I shoved my way to the front and told him to get out of my way or be pummeled into sheep skin.

Jesse was so amused by this particular analogy he couldn't stop imitating me saying it and laughing for the next hour. I proceeded to tell him to shut it or I'd tape his mouth over. He disguised every roll of tape in the House with telepathy so I couldn't find it. I made Eric climb on his back for a piggyback until he promised to stop. It worked like a charm, but then Eric wouldn't get off his back, claiming it was comfy. Boys.

Now, I sit in Math awaiting the end of the lesson. It is the last one of the day, and I just want to go back to my room and pace the floor about tomorrow's plan again.

"Dude," Eric whispers, two seats away from me. Sasha, who is next to me, has to lean back so he can see me and talk. "Quit fidgeting and squeaking your chair."

I sigh and sit still. Once I do, I hear someone at the back of the room quietly singing, "It's Friday, Friday. Gotta get down on Friday."

I am two ticks away from whipping back and chucking my pen at them, when the class is dismissed.

"Finally."

I pack up my stuff, shoving my hair into the back collar of my loose shirt so it doesn't get in my face.

"Sasha," I say, once we're moving in the hallway. My fingers pick through my book, searching. I stop. "Did you take my extra notes?"

Sasha furrows her eyebrows and stops too, rummages through the thick pages of her exercise book. "Er... I think so. Let me find it."

While she flips through it, a drawing she did of a strange centaur-like creature comes drifting out by Eric's feet. He bends to pick it up, but someone beats him to the chase.

"Yo! What's this!"

The boy who picked it up is exactly one of those people you avoid in normal high school. The guys that slick their hair back and sasses the teacher constantly. The type that act as if they take a huge dosage of asshat every morning. Even a prison for supernaturals aren't exempt from these type of people.

Sasha sighs loudly. "Could you give that back please, Sam?"

His two friends saunter up behind him, and they all start jeering at her drawing.

"Is this a retarded horse?"

"You're like a modern Picasso, man. Your crap will probably sell because people don't know what the fuck it is."

Eric crosses his arms and glares at them. "Piss off, and give that back."

The boy feigns offense. "What, man? I was complimenting it!"

"Calling it crap," I seethe, "is not a compliment."

Sam startles a little, and I realize he didn't see me there. I didn't even register I was practicing disguising myself. A sub-conscience part of my brain that flipped on the switch to telepathy is urging me not to get involved. But this guy is taking things too far.

His lips form into a sneer. "Whatever. I don't want to waste my time on this bitch anyway."

My eyebrows rise straight up. I take a step closer, leaving only about a few inches between us.

"Say again?" I bait.

"Ariel," Sasha is saying in the background. I tune her out.

Sam doesn't falter, and sneers again, "Bitch."

Before the last syllable can even leave his mouth, my fist has already made contact with his jaw. Sam's entire body goes flying into the nearby wall, his head hitting the plaster with a nasty thunk.

My knuckles are stinging, but they don't even come close to comparing with the satisfaction I feel seeing his dirty blond hair soak pink at his skull line. I don't give him a chance to recover. Eric makes a grab for my waist, but I dart out, and promptly land a sharp stomp on Sam's ribs. He heaves, and tries to roll over. I haven't even realized a crowd has formed until I hear a yell, and someone screaming, "Get up and fight, you wuss!" at Sam.

He lays groaning on the ground, and I'm about to furiously stand on his face, when Aunt Nelly's voice rings it. "Stop it! Now!"

"Ariel!" Aunt Nelly yells, pushing through the crowd, furious.

I shrug. "He brought it onto himself."

"Come with me. Now! Sam, get yourself to the infirmary!"

His friends don't even help him as he tries to blearily make his way over. He glares daggers at me and I waggle my fingers in goodbye.

I slowly follow Aunt Nelly towards her office. Sasha and Eric trail closely behind me.

"That was awesome," Eric exclaims quietly.

"Yeah," Sasha reluctantly agrees. "But I thought we were going to try not get into trouble, not cause chaos. Remember the developments we learned about for people who misbehave?"

"I never used any powers. It'll be fine."

As I say this, I can't help but think back to what was on my file. We hadn't gone through them since printing them out that day, but instead left them sitting underneath some loose floorboards where no one would look. We were going to go through them tomorrow, on Saturday, when there were no unexpected visits from cleaner ladies rummaging around every hour to clean up. It took a lot of self-control to not read through them, especially if they had stuff as cryptic as mine said: 'Subject suspected of extra ability.'

Even as I reassure Sasha I haven't done anything out of the ordinary to cause in being 'dealt with', I can't help but worry Aunt Nelly could think knocking a guy out was extra ability. I've always been able to punch hard. And Cambions do naturally get heightened senses.

We stop outside her door, while Aunt Nelly starts to dial someone on her phone. "Ariel, wait outside. Sasha and Eric, go to your last class please."

She shuts the door on us. When it is silent for a few moments, Eric takes it as his moment to declare, "Well, that was rude."

I stare at the door for a few moments, wondering what it was just then that had my sixth-sense nerves tingling.

"I guess we're going to class then," Sasha says. "You'll be okay, right?"

It clicks. "Why on earth does Aunt Nelly have a soundproof door?"

Eric and Sasha stare at it too, suddenly registering the fact that they can't hear a thing when she's obviously making a phone call.

"Huh."

I wave them off. "Whatever. Go to class before you get called to the scary principal's office as well."

Sasha frowns, and casts one more suspicious glance at the door. "You're sure you'll be alright?"

"Yes, yes."

Watching their retreating figures, I take a seat on the middle plastic chair in a set of three, conveniently placed in a little nook. Once I settle into a semi-comfortable position, I jump at a familiar voice drawling, "Well, what do we have here, princess?"

Jesse makes himself at home on the seat next to me.

"What are you doing out of class?" I ask.

"Bathroom pass," he says. "I was on the other side of the Wing when you had your little fight."

I roll my eyes. "I'll give you a re-enactment if you want. You can play Sam."

He snorts. "I'm good. Just a little surprised."

"Surprised?" I purse my lips. "What? You don't think I'm capable?"

Jesse turns to face me, head tilted curiously. "No. I think you're perfectly capable. But people are already gossiping you looked like a ruthless killing machine."

"And what's wrong with that?" I ask, crossing my arms.

"Well, all I can think about is how obsessively guilty your thoughts were when you hurt Courtney's knuckle on your first day here."

I blink a few times. "Sam deserved it."

"And Courtney didn't?"

The door opens, saving me from a reply I didn't have.

Aunt Nelly scowls. "Jesse, what are you doing here?"

"Keeping Ariel company," he replies with no indication of moving.

"You need to get to class," she says. "Now."

He rolls his shoulders back and clicks his tongue. "No thanks."

Aunt Nelly sucks in her lower lip, a muscle ticking in anger.

I nudge his foot. "Go to class."

«Before you get dealt with,» I emphasize silently.

Jesse's face contorts into an unhappy expression, then as easily as it appeared, it smoothes out. "Sure. Whatever you say." He saunters off without another word, only a smug smile.

"I swear that boy will do anything to antagonize me," Aunt Nelly says as he disappears. "Come in, Ariel."

"I swear we did this a few days ago," I say. "When did I arrive again?" Nine, ten days ago?

"Not important," she says. "I let you off easy last time. We will not tolerate violence here."

I'm pretty sure murdering kids counts as violence.

Shrugging, I reply in the coldest voice I can muster, "He called my friend names. He got what he deserved."

Aunt Nelly spends the next few minutes preaching on about how important it is for people like us to act rationally because violence meant using powers and using powers meant evil in a dramatic voice.

My attention strays, and somehow I find myself examining her office. She begins to talk about control, how I showed it wonderfully in my first stimulation and that she's disappointed with my lack of it right now. I nod and make apologetic grunts when necessary.

Behind Aunt Nelly is a filing cabinet not quite touching wall. I snap my focus back to her ranting so she won't notice what I am looking at. When I'm sure she won't notice, I begin to stare at the filing cabinet again. I realize it isn't touching the wall because something sits behind it. I strain in my chair a little, so I can see past her. Peeping out the bottom of the cabinet are bristles from a broom. Not only that, but strangely, it is one of those that click and fold in the middle for easy storage. I can see the top of it folded back, its side sticking out too.

Why does Aunt Nelly have a 6 feet tall broom? She has about twenty cleaner ladies coming in everyday. And who the hell needs brooms that long?

"Ariel?" she snaps, bringing me back down to earth. "Are you even listening to me?"

I nod. "Of course. I understand perfectly."

"Very well," she says. "I'm not going to punish you since you haven't used any abilities."

I shift my anklet-clad foot behind my other, paranoid she'll see the blinking yellow anklet even though I pulled my sock over it and my jeans fall past it.

"However, one more strike and you're out..."

I still. By out, does she mean out-nomorebreathing-out? She wouldn't, would she?

"...You'll sit detention like everyone else on a Sunday afternoon."

Breathing a sigh of relief, I stand. "Of course. Thank you, Aunt Nelly."

I don't know why I am thanking her. If all goes well, maybe we'll be out of here by tomorrow.

She shoos me, and says, "Go to class."

***

The rest of Friday passes in a flash, and on Saturday we wake to the news of another disappearance. Vee is gone.

"Do you think that means Elliot is... dead?" Eric says as we gather on the floor of my dorm, going through the papers.

"He can't be," Sasha says. "The spirit said we had ten days. It's only been a week."

"Maybe the spirit was wrong," Jesse says.

"No way," I interject. "I refuse to believe he's dead. Before I came, you've had people disappear two days in a row before, right? No big deal, we just have to rescue Elliot and Vee."

"But why would Vee have been taken?" Sasha asks. "She's obedient, she doesn't use her powers. It makes no sense."

I clench my fists, fury spreading towards Aunt Nelly. We were stopping this all. It ends tonight.

"Let's focus on this right now," Jesse says, reaching for a file. "Look for interesting information: anomalies that might help understand why we've been taken better."

I flip through files, some names I don't even recognize, reading each and every word carefully. After an hour or so, I finish the papers in my pile. The only name I recognized was Hayley, the girl who wanted to go to the so-called dance with Jesse. I note she has has an allergy to dog fur that makes her break out into hives. I snicker silently.

"Guys," Sasha says. "Take a look at this."

I lean over, as does Eric and Jesse at the same time. I can't see anything past blond and black hair.

"Could you please read out whatever is so interesting?" I say.

"It's Courtney's file," Jesse says, scanning it.

"Ha! Does she by any chance have a severe allergy to anything? An allergy that causes breakouts and acne perhaps?"

Eric shakes his head and says, "No, listen to this: Subject an orphan..."

I immediately stop laughing.

"...after death of human father and Cambion mother by motor vehicle accident when Subject was 14. Ran away and lived on streets for two years when foster care tried alternative caregiver arrangements. Subject was a willing addition to Vendetta House after getting in trouble with police for nearly strangling a man to death with supernaturally controlled vines."

I try close my jaw. "Oh my god." I think back to what Courtney had said to me the first day I arrived here: 'Admissions for this place closed two years ago.'

She had come willingly. To her, Vendetta House is not a prison, but the only place she can stay. I wonder if she still thinks that, now her best friend has gone missing. And let's not forget why she hates me so much in the first place: her boyfriend is likely dead too.

"Who would have thought," Sasha muses. "I heard rumors one of her parents were dead, but I never knew both were. The queen bee is an orphan and homeless."

I wrinkle my nose. "I really don't want to, but now I feel kind of bad for her."

Jesse shrugs. "Don't. A tragic backstory explains reason, it doesn't give an excuse."


"GIVE MY DRESS BACK," someone yells outside in the hall, running past. I startle slightly from the loud noise and whack Jesse's arm.

"Ow," we both groan, me clutching my fingers, him clutching his arm.

"You knocked my funny bone!" he complains.

"Sorry," I wince. "That chick scared me."

"Already preparing a dress for tonight, no doubt," Sasha says. "What time is it? I'm hungry."

I push myself up to check the time. "It's 12. Let's go get lunch."



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Author's Note: Hmm... This chapter lacks my usual cliffhanger. Yes, there was just two chapters uploaded at once, since I'm doing NaMoWriMo (add me, I use the same username!) and also exams are coming up, so in case I can't get things done, I thought Chapter 35 can come along with 34 since 34 feels plot-slow-y to me (I am aware that's not a real word). Don't forget to vote and comment if you enjoyed. Feel free to point out any errors because I may have missed them! :)