I'm pretty sure no one's actually Чтение this, but college stuff is stressful af and Письмо about murder is much еще reasonable therapy than actually committing murder, so...

Happens right after link

Città dei Canali

Ana kept a firm hand on her brother's arm as they walked away from their escort. Every time she glanced sideways at the blood covered man, he returned her gaze calmly. His composure was meant to be reassuring, but it chilled her to the bone to see such a relaxed reaction after the macabre scene he had created. Eight bodies, cut to pieces by bullets, stabbed to death by daggers. Him standing there among the mess like an apathetic pedestrian surveying the front page Статья about a disaster a million miles away.
Once the pair reached the end of the dock, the younger took off her ring and knelt to place it on the wooden, sea salt stained planks. The wind picked up, blowing her copper curls in the nightly air of the Adriatic Sea. She turn to wave a farewell to the guards. Their only responses were stony faces and one understanding glance from their leader, which Ana returned with a nod, promising to keep the incident on the bridge a secret. The girl walked her brother through the portal, snatching up her ring just before the door closed behind them.
Aleksander blinked in the darkness. The only light came from the улица, уличный lamps and restaurant patios lining the canal. He had expected the cold, biting breeze of the Northern Pacific, but instead the warm Italian air caressed his skin. The blood coating his arms, streaking his face, staining his clothing had already dried, yet felt heavy and alive in the humid air. "Ana-" he started, turning to look for his sister.
She was only a silhouette against the dimly lit canal, her eyes two golden, glowing pinpricks identical to the улица, уличный lamps behind her. The girl had her arms wrapped around herself in protection against whatever was making her shiver. He realized that one of her shaking fists, the one where a pair of fingers were missing, was clenched against her chest. "We need to get back to the others," Aleksander reminded her softy, his voice like the soft waves rocking the лодка under their feet.
"I wanted to make sure Ты were uninjured," came her voice in the dark. "I was too nervous to check in front of the bloodsuckers."
Her brother chuckled and leaned back against the boat's railings. "And here we all were thinking Ты had learned to trust the vampires. Ты certainly had me fooled."
"I trust him, but..."
Aleksander nodded in understanding. "Well, I'm fine, not a scratch. Can we leave now?"
The girl's silhouette refused to budge. The older of the two sighed and pushed off the railing. The adrenaline from the fight was fading quickly, and he stumbled on the shifting boat. Ana was suddenly there, a hand on his arm to steady him. In her haste, the object clenched in her fist fell to the deck and bounced, rattled, laid still. She quickly snatched it back up, but Aleksander had already seen the token.
"Where did Ты get that?" he demanded, voice still calm, but ice cold now.
"None of your business."
"Ana, those people are dangerous!"
"Those people?"
Aleksander realized his mistake as those orbs of golden огонь turned on him. "You know about the White Army?" The Вопрос was obviously rhetorical and еще of an accusation. Rage rolled through the red head as her mind raced over the possibilities of the secret her brother had kept from her. Callaghan Rurik had promised her a chance at getting justice for their family, justice that was 100 years over due. Aleksander had known about such promise and ignored it on purpose.
"So, what? Ты pretended like they didn't exist so that Ты could keep living in your little Фэнтези world of normality? Get an apartment in Manhattan with your girlfriend and act as if Ты aren't a traitor?"
"Ana, no one has betrayed anyone-"
“Liar," she growled. "You're a liar, and a traitor, and you've turned me into one too. We could do this, bring peace to our people and fix everything. But it's just like in Elam when Ты gave away your crown. All Ты care about is yourself, your stupid Фэнтези of being a human. You're a liar, and I hate you!"
"Anastasia, enough! The White Army is dangerous!"
"WE are dangerous!" She seethed. “We belong to a family where parents kill their children and siblings kill each other. The last generation that lived in castles and danced in ballrooms were the last innocent ones of our bloodline, and it’s them we are meant to live for, brother…to avenge them.” Her shoulders suddenly dropped. "Why did Ты kill those people?”
"They were bad people. I was defending myself." He took a step closer, reaching a hand out as if he could grab the girl and pull her out of her despair. He was close enough now to see the tears in her eyes.
"You were trained your whole life to fight, Ты could have incapacitated those people without killing a single one. Tell me that's not true, that Ты HAD to kill them." Despite the begging in her voice, Aleksander looked away. Her gasp was just audible over the salty sea breeze. "They saw Tara, Ana. I couldn't risk her getting caught up in this too. They were necessary sacrifices."
There was a silence between them where the air turned acrid, thick with regret. Suddenly the paradise of Venice, the city of canals, islands, masquerades, and gondolas, had become the last place the siblings would ever trust one another. In hindsight, Ana should have taken the earlier opportunity to run among those streets and enjoy the sun on her skin and scent of sea in her hair. She should have run and left it all behind without a look back. Maybe she could have saved herself from the evils no one had ever cared to protect her from.
"You could at least pretend to feel remorse,” she muttered, wiping the tears from her angry eyes. "I hurt someone today. A stranger. Ripped his arm open with my claws, and I doubt I'll sleep well tonight over the pain I caused him. But Ты act as if Ты could massacre a dozen people every день and never lose a секунда of sleep. Just like it'll never bother Ты to turn your back on your family."
The girl felt sick to her stomach at her own rage and at the defeat that sapped the light from her brother's eyes. They were suddenly blank pale blue windows with nothing behind them, the only clean spaces on his blood covered body. She wanted to feel triumphant in discovering the truth of his soulless nature, one exactly like their late father’s, so she turned away from him. "I'll take Ты back to the others," she assured, her voice sounding far away in her own ears. "I'll stay there, but not for you. I'll make my decision for myself about the White Army. And then…I never want to see Ты again."
She had knelt to place her ring back down. She was tense for a response, an objection, but none came. The portal opened and Ana stepped through, followed by the hollow eyed man whom had once been her brother.