In Vendetta House (The Vendetta Series #1)

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

It is still dark out.

We creep down the hall: Eric beside Sasha, Jesse and I following closely behind. Sasha stares blankly ahead, appearing zombie-like to clench down her anger. I have a feeling she wants nothing more than to track down Aunt Nelly and strangle her to death. Eric is keeping an eye on her like a hawk.

We skirt through other corridors, straying as far from South Wing as possible, since someone was up there.

Jesse had tried using telepathy to shield us from anyone we might accidentally run into, but four people are a lot of work and he is already drained from disguising the racket we made back in the office. I would attempt it, but so far, I could only manage to disguise myself.

Once we make it pass the entrance to East Wing, and pass the arched beams, I try calm my pounding heart.

But we hadn't quite made it.

Very light footsteps tap down the staircase from the second floor. I wouldn't have heard it if I hadn't been focusing specifically for footsteps behind us. I didn't even think that someone could have been coming from above.

Before any of us can dart into hiding, a figure comes into view. She ducks her head and squints at us, her inky black hair swishing around her pajama-clad shoulders.

"Sasha? Eric?" Vee whispers, spotting them first. "Ariel? Jesse? What are you all doing out here?"

Her eyes narrow. I shift on my feet, blanking for an answer.

Suddenly, she sways on her feet. In the dim light, Vee clutches her head and blinks rapidly. Sweat beads on her dark skin.

Sasha momentarily snaps out of her stricken daze to look concerned at Vee. "Silveeah?" she asks. "You okay?"

I inch back. Getting caught out here meant certain punishment. Maybe Vee wouldn't tell on us. Maybe she isn't as bad as the others. I don't doubt Courtney wouldn't scream right now if she were in her position.

Vee stumbles backwards, and clutches the wall for support. I see her eyes glaze over as she stands in a crack of moonlight. She lifts her head to stare blankly forward.

Eric startles next to me. "Dude!" he exclaims at Jesse.

I look up at Jesse to find his lips thinned in concentration. His red streaks are glowing. That is the first time I've even seen them properly glow. What is he doing?

"Shush," he seethes at Eric. Then, he blinks, and in strangely contrasting movements, Vee glides into her room-swift legs but jerky arms-without another word. It is like she is being told to leave but a part of her is resisting.

"What did you just do?" I whisper.

Jesse bites at the thin membrane skin on his bottom lip. Thin perspiration smears on his temple.

He goes for a weak smile. "On the bright side, my compulsion is still working."

I turn to Eric and give him a nod. He helps Sasha into our room, chatting quietly but happily as if everything is normal. I have to give him props for that.

Grabbing Jesse's wrist-currently giving off a rather irregular pulse-I pull him into his dorm to interrogate him.

"Are you okay?" I ask first, shutting the door. "You look like you're going to pass out or throw up."

His hand flies to his mouth, confirming my thought. I stumble in the dark, rushing to reach the window and throw it open. A blast of cold, night air blows at my face. There's enough space where the bars curl for him to prop out his head.

"You're not mucking up the carpet if I can help it," I say grimly, dragging him over.

He empties his stomach out the window. Good thing I don't have to hold his hair since he's a dude. I cringe slightly at the acidic smell, but the wind blows it briskly away. At least it's all going outside

When it seems like he's finished heaving, I pat Jesse's back. "There, there."

I sincerely hope I never have to compel anyone.

He straightens up, wiping his mouth with a tissue I passed him. His tan skin is more pale than usual.

"I'm sure this is extremely attractive," he jokes, wiping his brow.

I grimace and tap his cheek, crooning jokingly, "Never seen anyone hotter." I frown, and feel his cheek again more seriously. "No, really. You're burning up."

He pulls away and plops on the chair, exhausted. "All in a day's work. I knew compulsion was serious but I didn't think I'd be puking my guts out."

I fold my arms. "What do you mean? What's the difference between this and telling Eric which shirt is yours?"

Jesse runs a hand over his face, lolling his head from side to side. "Telling Eric which shirt was mine wasn't proper compulsion. I guess it counts, but I was more or less influencing his thoughts. Before, I was physically ordering Vee what to do. I told her to forget she ever saw us, and leave as if we weren't there."

"So what you're saying is," I say, trying to understand it. "The power level for influencing is like lighting up a room. Proper compulsion is like... like creating a storm."

He nods, thinking it over. "Yeah, I guess that's as close a comparison as you're going to get."

"Would it work on me?"

Jesse sniffs. "I really don't think I have the effort to try."

I nudge his foot with my thick, sock-covered toe annoyingly. "Try. I want to see what commanding a compulsion will happen on another telepathic."

He sighs. "Or maybe you just want to see me throw up again."

"No one wants to see that."

"Fine," he says, groaning. "You've got to make eye contact with me though, so kneel down because I can't be bothered lifting my head."

I sit cross-legged on the carpet.

He stares at me. I wiggle my eyebrows. After a few moments, I feel something worming itself into my brain.