Chapter Fourteen

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Chapter Fourteen (Vladimir)

The air was cold.

I could feel it through my leather jacket as I picked my way through the chaos that I had created out of free will. Of course I would. I liked making an entrance, and this entrance wasn't just for show. I had given my family a chance to swarm the building and given Alexander the chance to escape.

Now it was up to me.

I felt no pressure. I knew just how I was going to take down Newell. I had assumed he would target Slade because of his abilities, which he did, but he also went after something else. And that was why Newell was going to feel the full wrath of the Court of Seven.

I walked into a long hallway that was in ruins. Bits and pieces of concrete wall had tumbled in one themselves and the ceiling had caved in at some point. I walked around one of the fallen beams and paused, catching sight of one of Newell's subordinates. He was knelt in the ruins of the hallway, cradling a man that looked exactly like him.

Kristophe and Claude Xios. They were cousins to the heirs, who were now dead.

I stepped over another slab of concrete and approached him. Kristophe was bent over his brother, holding him tightly to his chest before jerking his head up. His eyes widened when he saw me, but he didn't move from his spot, just knelt there, holding onto his brother tighter. I narrowed my eyes for a moment, but said nothing as I came up to him so he had to tilt his head back to look up at me.

"Don't... Don't kill him." He managed. I let my expression relax. I had known Kristophe since he'd been born. He and his brother were far closer than brothers should be, but no one hated them for it. It was in our nature to mate with close relatives in order to keep our blood pure. They only forsake the two for joining the rebellion.

I didn't hate them. They had been scared. Of course they would be. I killed their clan in order to step up higher in status. They thought they too would be killed. After all, with their whole clan dead, they were all that was left and surely I would hunt them down and kill them.

And part of me wanted to. They had made their choice and deserved the mercy of death, but for some reason, I could hear Alexander's voice in the back of my head. It made me frown for a second before I stooped down, putting my finger under Kristophe's chin. He clenched his teeth, staring at me intently.

"I will not," I said, watching him blink a few times in relief, "But you will not escape your punishment. You and your brother will wait here until I return. Is that understood?" Kristophe nodded obediently and I smiled lightly before rising to my feet again, heading toward the main hall.

A huge source of energy was waiting inside for me and it made me want to keep smiling, but Newell would suspect something. So I kept my facial expression calm and placid as I stepped through the doorway.

A frown forced itself onto my face at the scene, though. I scanned the main hall, seeing over turned wooden tables while some had been reduced to mere splinters. Dirt and dust hung in the air, beams having fallen from the high, pointed ceiling. At the center near the main post, Nathanial's body lay in a pool of blood, his eyes unseeing. My frown disappeared as I approached his corpse, looking down at it.

I wanted to feel sorry for him. He was just a human that had gotten in way over his head, but my selfishness wouldn't let me. I hated him for touching what belonged to me. However, I wasn't ashamed. It was much easier to close out thoughts and feelings about death after having faced it more than a thousand times.

"I did that for you." I looked up, then turned around calmly, my expression placid as I spotted Newell waiting in the doorway of the hallway.

To anyone else, Newell would appear as nothing, but a little child about eight-years-old. Dressed in cute, childish clothing with big, innocent blue eyes. Newell had always been a quiet person. Even as a child, he had stood around and obediently stood in the spotlight as his parents commanded. He dressed in the clothes they bought him, gone to the parties they forced him to attend, and was the perfect little son.

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