Wicked Power
Page 17
Alongside the daily isolation and combat training sessions with David and Chris, I’ve also worked with Emma in the vet clinic to improve my control. It irritates me to admit that David chose my trainer and location well, but I know only human children would have been more effective than dropping me in the middle of a bunch of sick animals and telling me not to hurt them. Needless to say, my control has improved drastically.
So has my talent for feeling the source of the animals’ pain and diagnosing its cause. That, I’ve kept strictly between Ketchup and me, though. I haven’t even told Grandma what I can do, not that we’ve seen much of each other, and Zander hasn’t been around enough to talk to, either.
My thoughts trailing back to Zander gets my hackles up. He’s been a whole other problem the past two weeks. I don’t know what switched him into compliant zombie mode where David is involved, but he’s clearly up to something that’s going to get him into trouble. The nagging feeling that he is going to need me has turned into an obnoxious tapping on the top of my head. Sometimes, it’s hard to think of anything else.
A sudden flash of light makes me jump. Chris stands in the doorway of the isolation chamber with a frown. “If you were truly focused, you wouldn’t have even heard me come in.”
“Sorry,” I grumble. “Focusing isn’t going to happen today. Not with going home this afternoon and whatever that was with Zander yesterday.”
Chris smiles. “Yeah, I guess you have a few things on your mind.” He offers me a hand and helps me up from the hard ground. “Come on, we’ve got a few more exercises to do before I release you to go pack.”
I groan dramatically. Chris whacks my shoulder, and I am thankful once again that he is nothing like David. I’ve actually enjoyed working with him. As we walk toward the next room, I’m amazed at everything he’s taught me over the last few weeks. Isolation training is all about expanding your senses. All of my senses are heightened past what a normal human would have, but I never had much use for anything other than the strength and healing.
“Alright, try to focus, at least a little. You’ve got a personal best to beat.” Chris pulls the door open for me and gestures grandly. I roll my eyes at him, but I step forward anyway.
There’s actually a bit of a bounce in my step as I enter the stark white room and take the blindfold from my back pocket. It only takes me a moment to tie it around my head and center my thoughts. Vision is always last, so I don’t have to tie and untie the blindfold more than once, but I never know which of my other senses will be tested first. My fingers twitch as I wait.
The sudden barrage of dozens of different scents at once nearly makes me gag. Not all of them are pleasant. Even the ones that are, it’s so overpowering that I can’t distinguish anything for a moment.
Chris’s voice rumbles over the intercom. “Cactus.”
That’s the only instruction I need. Shutting down everything else, I start eliminating directions. The game is, I have to find the source of whatever scent he calls out. There are literally hundreds of tiny vents around the room emitting different fragrances and noxious odors. I have to find just one.
Wandering slowly, I think I have caught the subtle scent I need, but droves of heavier scents of lilac and cinnamon try to confuse me. I have to stop for a moment. Quickly, I memorize the scents of the ones I don’t want, and then discard them, filtering them out of my search and focusing in on the gentle smell of cactus. Seconds later, I push a button next to the correct vent and smile.
“Two point six seconds faster than yesterday, Van. Nice job,” Chris says. “Stage two.”
We continue on through the rest of my senses with me beating all my times except for in vision, but that was only because Chris wasn’t playing nice. Throwing a picture of Ketchup into the collage I was searching distracted me just a moment too long. When I meet Chris outside the room, he eyes me with a knowing expression.
“I don’t need to hear it,” I say automatically.
He holds up his hands defensively. “I wasn’t going to comment.”
“Yes, you were.”
“Yeah,” he says with a laugh, “I was.”
Sighing, I wave him on.
“You can’t let yourself get distracted by anything, including Ketchup.”
“I know.”
Chris ruffles my hair—a very annoying habit of his—and says, “You know, there’s an easy way to make Ketchup less of a distraction.”
“Ditch him?”
Chris shakes his head, surprising me. “No, give in to him.”
“Huh?”
“He’s more of a distraction because you won’t let yourself have him, even though you clearly want him.” Chris laughs at my startled expression. “Not what you were expecting me to say? We’re not all doom and gloom and solitary life makes for the perfect Godling. David can live that way if he likes, but I’m married with three kids and I don’t plan on giving that up any time soon.”
Chris stops walking and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Van, I can see how much you want a normal life, but I also sense that you’re not ready to trust us enough to believe it’s a possibility for you if you become a full member of the Godlings. I just want you to know that nothing is ever certain. If you sit around waiting for everything to be perfect and doubt free, you’ll end up with the exact life you’re trying to avoid.”
He starts walking again. I stay a few steps behind him all the way to the exterior door, thinking. Before Chris can leave, I say, “What if getting what I want hurts someone else?”
“Sometimes you have to make decisions to protect someone you love,” Chris says, “but once in a while, you’re allowed to choose something for yourself, because you deserve it.”
Gnawing at my bottom lip, I wish so desperately I could confide in him. Ketchup listens and supports me, and I appreciate him so much, but neither of us knows even a sliver of what someone like Chris might know. It would be nice to be able to rely on someone with some actual experience in this stuff. The fleeting fantasy passes quickly, though.
Instead of blurting anything out, I look up at Chris and smile. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
A few minutes later, I make it back to mine and Grandma’s room to find both of our suitcases and bags already packed. Ketchup steps into the room a moment later, offering to help me carry them to the car. I’m happy to accept his help, but neither of us are overly cheery at the thought of leaving. That sense of gloom only deepens when we reach the parking lot and find only one car waiting for us.
David and Grandma look to be having a very serious conversation, so I step away from Ketchup for a moment to ask Zander what’s going on. He frowns at the question. “Apparently, David isn’t coming back with us right away. He said he has a few things to take care of, but he’ll be back to keep an eye on us in a week.”
“But, Ketchup is still with us,” I argue. Is he trying to get my best friend killed?
Zander tenses even more. “Apparently, this is meant to be a test of my control. I’m to sit in the front of the SUV with the driver while Ketchup stays in the backseat. David thinks it’s plenty of distance.”
“Distance, maybe, but what about the time? It took us hours to get here.”
All Zander does is grunt in response before walking away. The crunch of gravel under Ketchup’s feet alerts me to his approach. “There’s not going to be another car, is there?”
I shake my head.
Surprisingly, Ketchup just shrugs. “Human guinea pig it is then.”
He takes a step forward with the bags, but I grab his arm. “Aren’t you even a little freaked out about this?”
Ketchup grins. “Are you?”
“Yes!”
Laughing, Ketchup wraps an arm around my waist and drops a kiss on my cheek before I can stop him. “It had to happen sometime. Might as well be now while all this Godling training is fresh in his mind.” He squeezes me a little more tightly. “Besides, if it works, it’ll be one less excuse for you to hold onto.”
“And if it doesn’t, you’ll be dead!”
Ketchup winks. “I have faith in your brother. Don’t you?”
My head starts shaking back and forth. “Uh, no. Haven’t you been listening to me talk about him planning something stupid and dangerous?”
“Sure, but that’s about Ivy, not me.”
Done arguing, Ketchup walks away in way too good of a mood. I trudge after him, pissed at David for this whole situation. I just wish I knew if I was more pissed at the idea of him putting Ketchup in danger or trying to push me toward him.
In truth, I know Zander will keep himself in check. He won’t fail me again when it comes to Ketchup. It’s my own fear that has me the angriest. I’m terrified of giving into Ketchup only to lose him later on. My hands are absolutely trembling when I climb into the backseat next to him. The level of my anxiety lurches upward when Zander takes his seat, and I can feel his hunger begin to simmer. I wait for it to blossom into an all-out need, but he keeps it at a low boil for now. I’m hardly reassured, though.
“See,” Ketchup says, “it’s gonna be fine.”
I glare up at him, but I don’t pull away when he puts an arm around my shoulder. Leaning into his embrace, I fix my eyes and attention on my brother. I’m pretty sure I stay that way for an entire hour before Ketchup finally gets annoyed.
“Are you going to do this the whole ride home?” he asks.
“Do you want me to miss the moment his hunger gets the better of him?”
Ketchup pulls his arm from around my shoulders and frowns at me. “Why don’t you just admit that this isn’t about Zander as much as it is about you?”
I could try to pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about, but it would be a waste. Ketchup knows me too well to try and get away with it. That doesn’t mean I’m ready to let him win this, though. “Fine, you want me to stop worrying, I will. I’m taking a nap.” I drop my head into his lap—making Ketchup freeze—and close my eyes. “Feel free to wake me if my brother tries to eat you.”
It takes him a moment to get over the shock of me snuggling up so physically close, but he’s not about to discourage me. He chuckles at my antics while running his fingers up and down my arm. “Thank you,” he says quietly.
I can’t help but smile and enjoy the feel of being so close to him. The soothing rhythm of his fingers on my skin nearly lulls me into a peaceful sleep, but I refuse to waste these last precious hours before going back to real life. Somehow, I even manage to forget that Zander is only a few feet away and at any moment could lose control. I forget everything but Ketchup.
Hours later, I’m almost surprised when the SUV comes to a stop. I pull myself back to sitting and sigh at the sight of my home looming in front of us. Next to me, Ketchup sighs as well. We’re both quiet as we climb out of the SUV, although everyone else is congratulating Zander on holding onto his control the entire trip. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it as well, but I find myself a little distracted by having to say goodbye to Ketchup. We’re slow at getting our bags, and by the time we have them in hand, I realize Grandma and Zander have already disappeared inside the house.
Ketchup eyes his own car with a frown. “I almost wish we were back at the compound.” He smiles faintly. “Almost.”
“I know,” I say quietly.
Letting go of his suitcase, Ketchup pulls me into his arms. “Look, I know you’re still scared about the future and you’re trying to figure everything out, but the last two weeks proved we can make this work. Maybe the Godlings are the bad guys. Maybe you’ll decide to leave, but even if you do, it doesn’t have to be without me.” Ketchup’s presses his palm to my cheek. “We don’t have to go back to the way things were before.”
We started out this trip with me making rules that were supposed to keep us from getting any closer. Clearly, they didn’t quite do their job. Or, maybe they would have if either of us had actually followed them like we were supposed to. The last few weeks have taught me so much, but nothing more glaringly than the fact that I have run out of excuses. Fear is the only thing standing in my way, and I’m so tired of being scared all the time.
Looking up at Ketchup, I say, “I know that.”
“But …” Ketchup says slowly, waiting for me to finish my sentence. I can only shrug. Ketchup doesn’t waste a second. His hands press against my cheeks, and he pulls me into a soft kiss that sends fire racing through my body.
Ketchup pulls back slowly, his eyes searching mine for some hint that I will push him away. One corner of my mouth turns up, but the words forming on my lips are erased with the slam of a car door. I spin in Ketchup’s arms and gasp at the sight of a furious Noah.
Chapter Sixteen: The Script
(Vanessa)
“Noah, what are you doing here?” I ask as I step forward to stop him from reaching Ketchup. He crosses the street in a flash and skids to a halt in front of me.
Ketchup is having none of it. He grabs my hand and refuses to let me get any farther away. He doesn’t say anything, just pins a fiery glare on Noah and clenches his free hand into a fist.
Noah matches his expression just as fiercely. He raises his hand and points a finger at me. “We,” he says, making it obvious that Ketchup is not included, “need to talk. Right now.”
“Absolutely not,” Ketchup growls. “Van just got home. She’s tired. No one invited you to be here, so why don’t you just go home?”
“I wasn’t talking to you.” Noah snaps his eyes away from Ketchup and back to me. “I’m not leaving until we talk. You owe me an explanation.”
“She doesn’t owe you anything!” Ketchup snarls.
The squeak of the screen door opening doesn’t faze either guy, but it pulls my eyes toward the house. Zander steps out onto the porch with a look of concern on his face. Crossing his arms over his chest, he looks at me questioningly. A quick shake of my head holds him back…for now.
Turning back to Ketchup, I gently place my free hand on his chest. He doesn’t look down, but I feel his muscles tighten under my touch. “Ketchup, I do owe him an explanation. Just give me a minute, okay?”
“No. I’m not letting him get in the way again.”
The fury in Ketchup’s voice tears at me. My fingers curl around his shirtfront. “Ketchup, please, he’s just asking to talk, that’s it. I’ll be right back.”
“That’s not all…” Ketchup’s voice cuts off sharply as Zander’s hand clamps down on his shoulder.
I suck in a breath at the sharp sting of Zander’s hunger blazing at the touch, but he keeps a tight control on it for now. “Ketchup,” he says, “why don’t you come wait on the porch? Now.”
I expect Ketchup to argue, but he seems to think better of trying to get away from Zander and releases my arm. “Five minutes,” he barks at Noah. Then he turns sharply and storms up to the porch.
Zander sighs in relief. He turns back to me. “Seriously, five minutes. I won’t be able to stay around Ketchup very long after that car ride. Make it quick.”
Nodding, I turn away from him, walking with Noah across the street to his car so we can speak privately. His anger hasn’t dulled any in the last few seconds. He is absolutely bristling with it. The urge to drop my head in shame is unrelenting, but I square up my shoulders and wait for him to say what he so clearly wants to say. Noah doesn’t hold back.
“You lied to me, Van. I asked you straight out whether or not you and Ketchup were spending the holidays together, and you lied right to my face.”
“I didn’t know when you asked,” I say, not entirely sure why he’s so angry. I get that he’s mad I lied to him, but I don’t think this is about jealousy. My arms tighten around my body as I try to figure out what else it might be.
“What?” Noah demands.
“When you asked me that night, I had no idea Ketchup was coming with us. He told me later that night. It was supposed to be a surprise for my birthday.”
Noah’s brow wrinkles as an added layer of confusion drops
on his shoulders. I grimace as I realize my mistake. “Your birthday?” Noah asks. “When was your birthday?”
“Uh, the day of your competition.”
“You couldn’t tell me about that, either? Is your birthday some sort of State secret? Why wouldn’t you want me to know about your birthday?” Noah demands.
“Because I didn’t want anyone to celebrate it. My siblings all started to get really sick after they turned sixteen, and I was afraid it was going to happen to me too,” I say as honestly as I can.
Noah’s expression softens, but only for a moment. “That still doesn’t excuse you for lying to me. Why didn’t you tell me Ketchup was going with you after you found out?”
“I just…” I didn’t tell him because it would have inspired questions I couldn’t answer. It was easier and safer to stick with the lie.
“Did you even tell me the truth about where you went?” Noah asks. Hurt mixes with his anger, bunching his shoulders to the point I’m afraid they’ll snap. “Why would Ketchup go on some domestic violence survivors retreat with you and your family? It doesn’t make any sense. I should have known you were lying.”
I close my eyes against the emotional pain pouring off him. I don’t understand it, but it’s killing me to be so close to him right now. His pain suddenly becomes palpable, a strange sensation I have never felt before. My hunger rages, but I refuse to let it feed off something I caused. “Noah, I’m sorry for lying about Ketchup coming, but this has nothing to do with you. I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”
“Of course not. Why would you understand?” Noah says, his frustration hitting its limit.
Not sure what he means by that, I shake my head. “Noah, you know I care about you, and I would never want to hurt you, but I thought you understood that there are parts of my life that I can’t talk about.”