Rage of Vendetta (The Vendetta Series #2)

Chapter 37

Author's Note: I'm starting to think I should start cutting these chapters in half. The lengths are getting ridiculous. Anyhow. Don't forget to vote or comment! I appreciate it! (Also! There may be an earlier update coming with Chapter 38, since I feel the need to drop the next chapter as soon as possible. Let me just be cryptic and say, depending on reader to reader, you may either love it in a squealing outburst or hate it with a burning, cringing passion. Or somewhere in between, I don't mind. You've been warned.)

Chapter 37

“What are we doing here?” I ask. I have to take twice the amount of steps to keep up with Valencia’s long strides. “We just started a war.”

“We did,” she says, suddenly stopping. “Which is why I’m rallying forces and you kids are staying put until we’re ready to drag your asses to the front line of battle some time in the middle of the night.”

I glance up at the giant building we stopped beside. “Staying put in a four-star hotel?”

“Oh, quit complaining,” Valencia says, ushering us through the rotating doors. “This is the Fifth Branch’s back-up quarters. Since you know, the main operational base blew up.”

I suppose it would make sense the back-up bases are in human domain. 

“By the looks of it, they’ve moved most of Fourth Branch in too,” Kane says, narrowing his eyes at a few Nephilum sprawled on the lobby couches, cleaning their weapons. They perk up, their noses twitching at our entrance. 

“First, Fourth, and Fifth?” Vee asks, dubious. 

“All three Branches are here?” Courtney adds.

“There are a decent amount on field, but basically.” Valencia shakes something that looks like a pass at the reception, and leads the eleven of us—drenched in blood, mud, and animal body parts—right past without getting a second glance.

“Cyreel’s still alive, right?” I ask. We’re in Central Auckland: Fifth Branch territory.

“Unfortunately.”

Aunt Nelly is likely to deal with him personally, and now, with the power her hundreds of mindless have, she knows we won’t do a thing until all Nephilum forces, including the Fifth Branch, have come together. It would be suicide otherwise.

She’s biding her time: waiting for Cyreel, for us, to come to her. I twist my sleeves anxiously. I need to stop worrying about what the Fifth Branch may do after the war and more about how we’re going to convince them to be part of it. Actually, I just need to stop worrying completely. Valencia said she has it handled. That’s not on my shoulders anymore.
“Air,” Sasha mutters, catching my attention quietly.

“Mhm?” I reply, turning back.

She picks up her pace until she’s walking beside me in the thin corridor. 

“Our not-room in the not-House,” she says, “how was it?”

I snort. “Exactly the same: gross and prison-like.”

Sasha frowns slightly. “She didn’t recreate it to be trashed?”

I stop walking. 

“That’s right,” I slowly say, wanting to slap myself. “The room was trashed after we left.”

“What?” Eric asks, overhearing us. “How do you know?”

I groan. “I saw it in that vision on the plane! Damn it, if I hadn’t forgotten, we would have gotten out of there ages ago.” I kick the wall. “I should have realized something was up when we could go into the rest of the House using West Wing. The real entrance turned into a wall with Aunt Nelly’s energy.” My shoe hits the wall three more times, earning me an eyebrow raise from Jesse. “Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!”