Chosen

Chapter 29- We'll be like Bonnie and Clyde, Except we're Good and not in Love

A/N: you guys make me so happy when you comment and vote, honestly. I really don't like this story as much as I should (it's a completely different writing style that I don't fancy) and it's great that people can love it in the areas that I don't.

"If it makes you feel any better, the mastermind is going to die today." I whisper to Fred, who's bleakly staring at the news anchor that announced that their president is dead.

He slowly turns around to face me, giving me the deadliest glare I have ever had the pleasure of receiving.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. The amount of hatred poured into that one glare could send a werewolf running. And even though it was directed at me, I know it was meant for the murderer.

As he shifts his body away from me, I notice a stray tear running down his face. The death is a lot more personal to him than I thought. But why?

Chaos erupts everywhere. People are screaming their heads off, claiming that America is done for. Some flip over tables in rage, while the barista shakes behind the counter, holding out a box of a donuts. "If you calm the fuck down, it'll be yours free!" She claims.

A chair soars over my head, breaking the glass window in front of me. I watch as the pedestrians on the sidewalk jump back in fright, avoiding the shards that would've harmed them.

Fred throws his head on the table, wishing away all of the noise. If he thinks this is loud, try being a vampire.

A man punches the wall several times, digging a deeper hole as his fist attacks. His knuckles split from the impact, drawing blood onto his mocha skin. I can understand bits and pieces of his pain. He's made a life for himself here, telling by the wedding band on his finger, and now that the government is in shambles that'll all change.

The terrorist group will surely go after the designated successor next. After all, they're practically the back-up president. They would have to be the last one to go for the government to fall.

I look at the shiny, gold watch I stole from a greedy human. The time is 3:32 P.M., nearly five hours before the mastermind dies. I already know the general area they're located thanks to my FBI friend, and I know when the gun shot goes off. If I were to listen around for the bang, I'd know where their location is and I'll kill them. Simple. Except, it's never that easy.

Maybe I'll interrogate them first. I am awfully curious of how they killed people in high positions of power without getting caught. They're vampires of course, but so are the ones protecting the officials. What makes them stronger than the average? They're probably just really old ones.

Fred bangs his fists on the table, lifting up his head. He digs into his pocket and takes out his FBI badge, before standing on the table.

He cups his hands over his mouth and gathers everyone's attention.

"I am with the FBI! If you continue trashing up the shop, I will arrest you!" He announces. Silence falls in the chaos-stricken room. The woman behind the counter mutters a prayer under her breath.

He looks at me, pointing to the donut box the woman promised to anyone.

"If you would please get our free donuts."

I step over the broken wood to the front of the counter, grasping the box. The woman looked quite hesitant to give it away, but did so anyway.

Fred jumps off the table, throwing the doors open. I watch as he slips in the car, brooding in his seat.

I follow him to the car, my hand hovering over the handle. But something I noticed stopped me, or someone, really.

The man in the hooded cloak stands across the street, staring directly at me. A chill runs down my spine. It's the same one from my first mission, the one who was watching me from the van. He shakes his head furiously, before walking off. A part of me wanted to run off and confront him, but I know I'm needed someplace else right now.