Rage of Vendetta (The Vendetta Series #2)

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Sweetie? Sweetie, can you hear me?"

The world is hazy, foggy to my ears. My eyelids pry themselves open a crack to see a blur of a figure leaning over me, and a feminine voice saying something.

Crap.

My eyes fly fully open. "I can hear you fine."

The flight attendant jerks back, a hand over her heart. I look at her, confused, and it takes moment to realize she is gaping at the bright green rings in my irises. I'd actually gotten so used to them I'd forgotten it's not a human norm.

"Oh, dear. Your contacts gave me quite a fright."

Right. Contacts.

Slowly, I try sit up. Half my torso is still inside the bathroom, but my upper body is out on the floor in the walkway.

"Do you know what happened?" the flight attendant asks kindly, having recovered.

I clear my throat, and reach up to make sure the beanie is still on my head.

"Dehydration problem," I say, the answer sliding from my lips easily. "It's nothing, really."

The attendant purses her lips in thought, as if considering if she wanted to buy the lie. I flash my most convincing smile. I am, after all, fine.

Out of the corner of my peripheral vision, Sasha is getting up, coming over to check what was wrong. With a flick to the side, I spot Jesse and Eric closely following behind. My smile falters. One teenager collapsing on a flight is sellable as a harmless medical condition. One teenager traveling with others collapsing on a flight and adults will immediately think drugs.

Society works in funny ways. It's almost a breath of fresh air to deal with little, easily avoidable human threats in all this.

«Are you okay?» Jesse asks silently.

I have to ignore him while the flight attendant is studying me closely, wrinkles appearing as her brow lowers.

"How old are you?" she is asking, the first hint of suspicion creeping into her voice, just as I knew it would.

"Twenty-one," I lie, shifting to get up.

The flight attendant stops me with a stern look, although she still wears a mild, polite smile.

"Maybe you shouldn't get up so soon after fainting," she suggests.

«Get back to your seats,» I quickly say to Jesse, not looking at him.

«What?»

«Just get back to your seats. I'm fine. I can handle this.»

I shake my head. "It's fine," I repeat aloud. "I'll be better with a bit of water."

A story quickly fabricates in my head, and it weaves into a place as I begin talking.

"My mom is always telling me I have to strengthen my dosages of medication, but god, I absolutely hate taking pills." I shudder, not completely faked either. "I've been swallowing chemicals recommended doctor after doctor all my life. I thought maybe I could go without it for a while." I sigh heavily. "It's actually my first time out of the country on my own. Guess this is what happens when I don't listen to my mom."

The flight attendant smiles warmly, confirming my guess she's probably a mother too.

Relaxing, she pats my arm, satisfied that perhaps I'm not a teenager terrorist trying to smuggle drugs. "Well, you should, but I guess there's nothing we can do now."