Page 66 of Vameer

“You son of a—” Tall Cop starts. But my gravito wraps a tendril around his throat, shutting him up.

I turn my head to the other crouched man. “You hear that too?”

He lifts a shoulder. “I’ve heard it. Also heard that one”—he tips his head toward Short Cop—“has restraining orders on him. From a couple of girls.”

I turn back to the cops. “Did you know that one of a vampire’s powers is knowing when a human is lying?”

They both shake their heads, the proper amount of fear in their expressions.

“We can feel it.” I flex my gravito around them, tightening. “Remember that when I ask you this question.” My power lifts them higher, until we are all eye level. “Is what they said true?”

They hesitate, but like before, they both nod.

That was easy.

I angle my head and stage-whisper to the crouching men, “We can’t actually do that.”

One of them snickers.

The Short Cop, who doesn’t have gravito around his neck, starts to speak. But I fix the oversight, silencing him.

I glance over at the police car. “Probably shouldn’t leave that here, right?”

The older guy grimaces. “We’re, uh, regulars here. This might get blamed on us if that car’s there and the cops ain’t.”

Muffled sounds of fear mix with my sigh of agreement.

I could bring the car with us, but I don’t want to add to the pollution crisis…

My palms tingle with energy. And I smirk.

That’ll work.

I turn to the vehicle and hold my arms out, angled so my hands are framing the car.

There are probably more guns and bullets in there. But if I do this right, nothing should have time to ignite.

My smirk pulls into an almost smile.

This will be my first time doing this to something with new technology. I’m a little excited.

“You might want to stay down, behind the barrel,” I say over my shoulder.

I’m ninety-five percent sure this will work how I want it to.

The cops make more muffled sounds, probably complaining that they don’t have a barrel to hide behind.

But these cops are domestic abusers who terrorize the community they are honor bound to protect. Shrapnel is the least of their problems.

I focus on the car, and the energy in my chest intensifies.

It’s heavy. Powerful.

And more than I need.

I grin. And clap my hands together.

My gravito moves with the motion. Shooting out of my fingertips, spreading to encompass the car. Then slamming in on itself as my palms meet. Narrowing in on one central point.