Chapter Thirty-Four
––––––––
JAZMINE GAZED OUT THROUGH the living room window at her sire far below.
Vetis was with him and her upper lip lifted.
They couldn’t see her peering down at them through a crack in the drapes.
Lachial had been lurking around her apartment building too often for her to risk sneaking out lately.
She was itching to go outside and use her talents again.
“Can’t you just leave me alone for one night? ” she complained softly.
As if summoned by her plea, another soldier joined them. It was Xathan, the hairless male with dark skin. She remembered him visiting her in the holding cell. He spoke to Lachial and Vetis, then they sprinted away with their guards in tow.
“Where are they going?” Jazmine asked in puzzlement. She hadn’t heard any alerts on either of the walky-talkies she’d stolen. Curiosity had her pulling on her black sneakers and racing outside. She’d stuffed the walky-talkies into her pockets, but had turned the volume down low.
Keeping her sire on the very edge of her radar, the shadow wielder followed the group from Manhattan.
They took a long bridge to New Jersey, then stopped a short while later.
She halted as well and hid herself with shadows.
They were too far away for her to hear them and she didn’t dare move closer.
Lachial would sense her and she would be busted.
“I can sense some humans,” Jazmine said as she stretched her senses out. Xathan and his two guards went on the move again. Lachial and Vetis headed in opposite directions with their guards on their heels.
She moved closer to where Vetis and his companions had shifted to and waited. After a minute, Vetis let out a happy chuckle, then they began hunting down the survivors.
“They’re going on a killing spree,” Jazmine said enviously. If it was alright for them to slaughter humans indiscriminately, then why shouldn’t she be allowed the same pleasure?
Her sire would be kept busy for a while, so the cambion seized her chance.
She sprinted southward and searched for some victims to rend and tear apart.
Something made her veer away from the area she was heading for and she ended up at a rundown bar.
Seven people with black souls were inside.
From their slurring words and boisterous laughter, they’d stockpiled alcohol.
“They won’t even know what hit them when I walk into that bar,” Jazmine said with a cruel smile.
Sauntering over to the door, she shoved it open and stepped inside.
A grizzled dude with long straggly hair seated at a table with three of his friends turned to look at her.
“Look what we have here, boys,” he said with a leer.
He and his buddies were playing cards. The other three guys were sitting at the bar, watching the match.
“I haven’t seen a woman that clean and pretty since before the Rapture,” one of his friends said, eyeing her like she was a tasty treat.
A short man with receding hair stood up from the table. “I call first dibs,” he said, then giggled drunkenly. Two mostly empty bottles of whiskey and four glasses sat in the middle of the table. Even from a distance, the males reeked of dirt, sweat and greasy hair.
Jazmine examined her targets, searching for weapons. Assault rifles lay on the bar and four more were sitting on the table next to the men playing cards. They had pistols and knives in holsters and sheaths.
“You’re really cute,” the human said as he staggered towards her. “I’ll try not to mess up your face while I’m having my fun with you.”
He giggled again and the smell of alcohol wafted towards her. Jazmine waved the stench away and glanced at the lamps that lit up the room softly. She darted away when the disgusting creep reached for her. Reaching the first lamp, she switched it off and the room instantly dimmed.
“Get her, you idiots!” a guy sitting on a barstool shouted while his friends laughed.
Jazmine dodged aside when another goon lurched to his feet and came at her. She flicked the second lamp off, leaving only the one on the bar. The room was now dim enough for her to use her talents, so she left it on. “I want them to see what’s going to happen to them,” she murmured in anticipation.
Moving too quickly for them to see her, she shrouded herself in shadow and came to a stop in a corner of the room.
“Where did she go?” the grizzled drunk asked in confusion.
“Is she even real?” one of his friends asked in confusion. “Or am I tripping again?”
At Jazmine’s command, shadowy coils of rope sprang into being. She flung her hands outwards and they sought out their targets. Seizing hold of the guns and knives, the cambion disarmed her victims.
“What the hell is going on?” a panicked dude said as he leaped off the barstool to turn in a circle. “Where did our guns go?” He couldn’t see them piled in the unnaturally dark corner behind the cambion.
His panic spread to the others and the short guy made a run for the door.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Jazmine said and a shadow grabbed hold of his ankle. Yanking him off his feet, she dangled him upside down in the air. He screamed in terror, clawing at his leg and finding nothing to grab hold of.
Jazmine grinned in fierce delight as her shadows obeyed her commands.
Tearing the short man to pieces, the remains dropped to the floor.
His friends screamed in horror, shocked out of their drunken stupor.
She formed sharp swords out of the darkness and they began slicing the humans apart.
Blood sprayed all over the place, but she was distant enough that none of it splattered on her.
She took her time to kill the evil men who had no doubt caused far too much misery during their pathetic lives. When the final human expired, her shadows vanished. “It’s a work of art,” she said in admiration as she studied the carnage.
Body parts were strewn all over the floor, the bar and the furniture.
The corpses would start to rot quickly and would no doubt draw attention from other survivors.
This time, the murders couldn’t be blamed on her.
Lachial suspected she’d slain dozens of mercs, but he didn’t have any proof of it.
The soldiers didn’t usually stray this far from Manhattan, so she was confident she would get away with it.
Jazmine was tempted to take some of the weapons with her, but Lachial might search her apartment and find them if he became too suspicious of her activities. Leaving them behind, she sprinted back towards the area where Xathan had led the warriors.
“They’re still at it,” Jazmine said when she heard screams and shouts in the distance.
She crept as close as she could get without being detected and watched the utter carnage unfold.
A huge group of humans were trapped in a park.
The soldiers were decimating them with their swords.
She watched until only a few were remaining, then left.
The shadow wielder raced back across the interstate bridge to Manhattan.
She entered her apartment building and locked the door behind her.
Switching the lights on, she changed her clothes and removed her sneakers, then made herself some coffee.
It had tasted bitter and horrible to begin with, but she’d grown used to it.
Several minutes passed before she sensed her sire returning. Only his four guards were with him this time as he made sure she was home. It was still early, so they headed to wherever their commander had told them to search for the night.
“I could sneak out again,” Jazmine said to the boy wearing blue in the painting. His expression almost seemed to be chiding. “You’re right,” she agreed reluctantly. “It’s too dangerous. Lachial will lock me back up in the holding cell if he ever catches me in the act.”
It seemed hypocritical for the soldiers to condemn her when they were all just as bad as she was.
She knew they feared she would turn against them and their fears were justified.
Jazmine would kill them all in a heartbeat if she thought she could survive their battle.
But she wasn’t ready yet. She needed time to hone her skills and turn herself into the most dangerous creature this world had ever seen.
She sat on the couch with her coffee and gazed at the painting with a dreamy smile.