Page 248 of Vameer

“I somehow doubt it.” My brother narrows his eyes. “Have you ever shot a handgun?”

“Sí. Yesterday.”

“Sixty seconds to game time.” Dread warns us.

I grab my robe off Dread’s workbench and pull it on over what has become my usual outfit.

Sword, red shirt half buttoned, and bare feet.

Volik is in his usual as well. Black shirt, black pants, black shoes. No sword. No bulletproof robe.

He’s the civilized-looking one.

Keeping my right hand empty, I use my left to pick up the last item, wrapped tightly in black gravito, and suppress a grin.

I am definitely not the brother made for polite society.

We watch the clock.

Volik nods down to my hand. “It has been thirty-six hours. Is that going to be extra disgusting?”

I lift it. “Probably.”

My eyes focus on the pink bracelet on my wrist. It’s another one of Rune’s. The beads are spheres and in different shades of pink, rather than rainbow. But it’s stretchy like the last one, so it feels like my bracelet, even if it looks different.

And these assholes are accomplices to the fucker who broke my bracelet.

The people we’re about to see had the ability to stop Johnson. They had the means to intervene and cut off his resources. But they chose to do nothing.

And they think that by not participating, they are keeping their hands clean.

They are not.

And we are about to tell them.

“Five.” Dread counts the rest of the seconds in his head. And I’m already stepping forward when the portal appears.

I walk through, and keep walking, Volik immediately behind me.

We take the five strides down the empty hallway to a door.

I grip the handle and break the lock as I turn it and swing the door open.

Without pausing, I enter the conference room and take a step to the right, giving Volik space to follow and close the door.

The fourteen people seated around the table stare at us, varying emotions on their faces.

“Hello, gentlemen.” I tip my head to the woman across the table. “And lady.”

“Th-this is a secure building!” someone shouts.

“Is it?” I lift my brows, then drop them. “Anyway, we have a couple of things we’d like to talk to you about.”

A man in a navy business suit reaches below the table, toward his hip.

“Hands on the table, please.” I turn to face him directly. “For our first topic. Please quit wasting our planet’s resources on the asinine cobalt bullets. They are not the secret to killing vampires or shifters. A rotten soul told you a falsehood. You should know better.”

“And we’re just supposed to believe you?” Navy Suit scoffs.