Ketchup shakes his head and sinks back into the couch. “How exactly did they pull that off? When my parents bought their house, it took months.”
“It helps that it’s a cash sale, and that no one knows David is dead. Transfers from the compound’s accounts don’t raise any eyebrows when everyone thinks he’s approving them.”
My shoulders relax a little thinking about that one piece of good fortune we had when David’s head accountant turned out to be one of the ones who didn’t run. Threatening a guy’s family every time David needed something questionable done with his money doesn’t exactly make for friendly feelings toward your employer. He’s been more than willing to help set up a new Godling camp, one where his children won’t be turned into monsters.
“Has Chris said anything about his expectations for you guys and this new school?” Ketchup asks. “You know he wants you both there full time.”
There’s an edge to his question, tightness in every muscle as he holds himself still in anticipation of the answer. I can empathize with him. I can also guess what he’s thinking and share many of his same concerns. “If that were to happen,” I say, “you know he’d extend the offer to you, too. He won’t keep you and Van apart. He’ll tell your mom they’re offering you a scholarship or something.”
Ketchup scoffs. “For what? I don’t play sports and my grades are decent, but not worthy of an exclusive prep school.”
I shrug. “He’ll figure something out.” Exhaustion nudges me over to the couch and I drop onto it. “Why don’t you play sports, anyway? I’ve always wondered. You’ve got a good build and plenty of strength, so why not?”
Ketchup scoffs, though his gaze seems to dart away from me at the question. “Watching out for your sister takes up all my free time.”
Unable to disagree, even though I suspect that’s not the full reason, I laugh and lean my head back against the couch. For a while, neither of us says anything. Maybe because we don’t want to discuss the real possibility of a major change like moving to the new Godling school. In the end, Ketchup’s need to know pushes him to break the silent tension. “Will you both go?”
That’s not an easy answer to come up with. “I think it might be good for Van to get away from all the people who treat her badly, but it would mean leaving all her other friends behind, and I don’t know if she can deal with that right now.” I sigh and close my eyes. “I know she doesn’t like the idea of being close to the Godlings, but I think it might help her to feel like she actually belongs.”
“She doesn’t trust them. Chris especially.”
“I know. I can’t say I do either, but talking to him today made things a little clearer. Eventually he’ll get her to talk to him and we’ll see.”
Ketchup looks skeptical, but moves on. “What about you? You talk about whether or not it would be good for Van, but you have to make the choice for both of you.”
“I don’t know. Part of me wants to go and develop my abilities so I can protect my family, but it would mean giving up sports, which might cost me scholarships and my chance to get away from the Godlings.”
Even though there would be room on the grounds for sports facilities and the funds to install them, there’s no way they could field competitive teams. It would be so far beyond an unfair advantage, they wouldn’t be able to hide their differences from the outside world. I’m only one person, and I make it easy for the teams I’m on to dominate the competition. A whole team of Godlings would be a massacre.
“Taking a scholarship with a school you really want to play for would mean taking Van away from New Mexico,” Ketchup says slowly. There’s no judgment in his voice, but I both hear and feel the hurt behind his words.
Sitting only a few feet away from him, I’m amazed again at how much easier it’s become to be around him. I would never credit David for anything good if I could help it, but I do owe him this. “I’d find a way to make sure you came with us,” I tell him. I’m sure the Godlings have enough influence to secure your mom a new, better job wherever we might go.”
Ketchup looks over at me, one eyebrow cocked. “You’d do that?”
“Of course I would.” I laugh at his surprised response. “Not only do you keep Van from getting into trouble most of the time, she loves you and she really needs you. I don’t know if she’ll be able to fix what killing those Eroi did to her without you around.”
Surprise morphs into something more grim as he considers what I said. I think we’d both like to be able to say I’d bring him along purely because my sister loves him, but there’s real need for him to pick up the pieces of Van that David managed to chip away. The last two days, she’s put all her focus into taking care of Grandma and helping Noah sift through stolen Eroi intel that might help us find and save Ivy’s captive little sister, Sonya. It’s holding back the dam, but the emptiness she described won’t be held back forever.
“Where’s Annabelle?” Ketchup asks.
Shaking away thoughts of what might happen to Van when everything comes tumbling out, I’m happy to change topics. “Still at the new school. She was helping Chris get a few things set up so the Godlings can start moving in tonight.”
“Tonight? I though you said it was a wreck.”
“It is, but it’ll be safer than having everyone out in the open at the compound.”
Ketchup shakes his head. “I hope Chris knows what he’s doing.”
I echo that hope, but don’t say anything. Chris is something of an enigma to me. I don’t trust him completely. His explanation of everything that led to him being taken out of the field and reassigned as a trainer makes sense, and I do believe him that he never intended for Van to take the lead in their mission to the Eroi headquarters. What I don’t trust is that how things went down was the only way, that there wasn’t some other path he could have taken to train and protect my sister without letting her be crushed by David.
I also don’t know if I can trust what he told me about my gift. It’s hard to argue he wasn’t right about everyone else. I mean, I don’t think he’s completely right about Van but, for the most part, he saw what no one else can. He doesn’t believe Oscar is the Gift like everyone else. We’re in agreement about that. Anything meant to fix the Godlings and end a war wouldn’t have hurt Oscar like it did. He’s been worse since he killed David.
Besides, that burst of power can’t possibly be the Gift. The Gift is only meant for one person, yet I can do it too. Ivy was right that it didn’t feel natural to use the hunger-born power as a weapon. I was so desperate to find a way to defeat David, I ignored the signs and hints that I was twisting my hunger into something it wasn’t meant for.
Taking away Ivy’s pain, though, that wasn’t wrong. There are no doubts about that for me. She was mean to collect pain, and I was meant to take it from her. Why? I haven’t figured that out yet, but I’m positive it’s key to unlocking the true purpose of the Godlings and ending the war.
“Zander, you’re back,” Van says as she crosses into the living room looking exhausted. She drags herself over to the couch and drops between Ketchup and I. Her head falls to Ketchup’s shoulder and he has his arm around her a moment later.
“Are you okay?” I ask. “What have you been doing up there all afternoon?” Cynthia walks past the living room and into the kitchen looking pleased. She seems like a nice woman, but my eyes narrow as I watch her.
Van flicks her hand against my arm, and when I turn to look at her she’s wearing a scowl. “Don’t start jumping to conclusions. It’s nothing bad, I promise. Cynthia was just teaching me to do what you did with Ivy.”
“What?” I demand, my previous thoughts making me do exactly that as I remember the sickening burst of energy.
For just a moment, Van’s expression goes blank and her skin pales. It’s gone a second later and she shakes her head. “Not that,” she says quietly, not willing to say the actual words. “The part where you accepted Ivy’s pain and took it from her.”
Confused, but
intrigued, I hold back my concerns that Van is in no condition to be trying new things that might overwhelm her or her hunger. “What do you mean? Cynthia can do that too? I thought…”
My voice trails off. I know I’m not the only one who can do it, because clearly so can Oscar. I did think that maybe it was tied to our family. Maybe we really are special. It’s stupid to think our hair has anything to do with anything, but why is it white? Why is it different than anyone else’s? Why are we the only wilders to survive so long being raised with none of the Godling training?
“Not everyone can do it,” Van says, “or at least, not very well. The people who can are the ones who go into healthcare. Cynthia said I should have been marked for that path, you and Oscar, too, if David…if we’d grown up with them, they would have seen our abilities right away. She says I’m really good at it.”
Ketchup’s grip on her tightens and I feel my own body tense. Van sees and feels our responses, and though she becomes more wary herself, she tries to reassure us. “I didn’t tell her what I can do, finding the source of people’s pain and knowing what’s wrong with them. I learned how to hide that very well while working with Emma. What she showed me, though, it really did help Grandma.”
Neither Ketchup nor I say anything. I don’t know what Ketchup’s thinking, but I’m growing more and more concerned by the second. If Cynthia really was able to teach Van to not only feed off Grandma’s pain, but to take it from her, that’s great. Just walking by my grandma’s door makes it clear she’s in agony most of the time. Taking on that much pain…you can’t just hold it. It needs to be used.
That’s when I notice Van’s hands. They’re twitching. She looks at me, her expression saying she’s unwilling to leave Ketchup’s embrace, but at the same time begging me to help her get rid of what she’s holding inside. The longer she sits there, the worse the twitching gets. Normally, it would be nothing to head out to the backyard and spar to blow off the extra energy. Van hasn’t thrown a punch or knife since we got back. She’s afraid. Terrified. I see it in her eyes as she begs me to help her.
“Is Cynthia taking care of dinner?” I ask Van in a calm voice. Her head bobs quickly. “Do you want Ketchup to come with us or stay here?”
Ketchup’s head pops up, his gaze snapping over to mine. Whatever he’d been focused on a moment ago is forgotten as he notices the tension between us.
“I need him,” Van whispers. “It’s easier to hold it when I’m with him.” The twitch turns into trembling and begins crawling up her arms. Ketchup feels it and his eyes widen.
We need to do something, but I’m afraid of making her spar with me. I know of other ways to burn off stored energy from feeding. Ketchup won’t be able to keep up, though, and I know she’s not being overdramatic when she says she needs him close. Some nearly forgotten thought pokes at me from the back of my mind. It was forever ago, or at least it seems that way, but I remember the coaches talking about a heavy punching bag that somehow got destroyed. One of them walked into the boxing gym at the school and found it split open. No one could explain it, but I suspected Van had been responsible.
“I have an idea,” I say.
Standing, I hold my hand out to her and she takes it warily. She doesn’t ask me if it involves fighting. She doesn’t want to admit her weakness, but I think she understands that I already know her limitations and trusts me to work with them. Squeezing her hand, I let go and turn her over to Ketchup before walking toward the kitchen. I want to have a few words with Cynthia we leave.
She turns expectantly when she hears me enter. Her stance is wary, but prepared when she faces me. “She’s extremely talented, and powerful.”
“You shouldn’t have started new training without me here. She’s too fragile right now to hold that much power.”
“She’s not as fragile as you think,” Cynthia says. It’s not a challenge, just a fact.
Frustrated, I take a few more steps in her direction. She doesn’t cower, but her body tightens. I make her nervous. I should. “Van burns off power by fighting, but after what David did…”
“I’m well aware of the fact that Van hasn’t so much as looked at the sparring dummy in the backyard since you brought her back. She’s hurt, badly,” Cynthia says. “I’ve been doing what I do for a long time, and one thing I’ve learned is that the best way to heal yourself is to heal others. She needs this, Zander, more than you understand. She’s desperate for a way to get rid of the scars he gave her, to prove to herself that power doesn’t equal death. She is terrified all she’s built for is hurting others. She hopes it’s not true, but she can’t quite convince herself.”
“And you can?” I demand.
Cynthia’s shoulders square. “Yes.”
I don’t know much about this woman, aside from the care she’s given my grandma, but for some reason, I don’t doubt her. “Fine,” I snap, “but I have to be around the next time you want to train her. She needs an outlet, and she’s not capable of burning off energy on her own right now.”
“That’s why kept her at it until you got home,” Cynthia says.
Annoyed at her for not consulting me before starting all of this, I have to admit she had enough sense to handle Van carefully. “We’re going out for a while. You have my number if you need me.”
Cynthia nods before turning back to the stove. That’s the end of our conversation for now. By the time I make it to the front door, Van and Ketchup are waiting for me. Nobody says anything as we leave the house and climb into the truck. The last time I left the training facility David had me working at, I didn’t think I’d ever come back. Honestly, I thought I’d probably be dead, but even if I’d survived, I hadn’t expected to be back here training. In my stupidity, I thought killing David would be the end of the fighting. I was wrong. Again.
Pulling up to the rundown gym, Van tenses. She doesn’t question me, though, and gets out of the truck after Ketchup, following me into the building. It’s not until I lead her over to a heavy punching bag tucked into a corner that her gaze focuses. Van sees it and looks up at me in relief. I don’t think she even knew it was over here. David didn’t bring her here very often, and when he did, it was to spar on the mats.
“Can you make me a key to this place?” Van asks. “David never gave me one.”
I nod. “We can set one up at the house and the school, too, if you want. They make freestanding ones.”
Van nods eagerly and starts shaking out her hands. She steps up to the bag without another word and I pull Ketchup back and out of her way. Both of us watch as she unleashes everything she has on the heavy bag. After the first few hits, I suspect I’m going to need to invest in whatever company makes these things. We’re going to go through quite a few of them.
Once Van is into a rhythm and burning off power to her heart’s content, I step away and leave Ketchup to keep an eye on her. I have Annabelle’s number up as soon as my phone is in hand and hint send even though I know she’s probably busy. Annabelle picks up right before it goes to voicemail.
“Sorry,” she says sounding a little breathless, “I was hauling a bunch of stuff to the dumpster. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say automatically, but then hesitate.
Annabelle’s breathing slows and I know I have her whole focus. “Zander, what is it?”
“I spoke to Chris earlier.”
She seems to sense I’m not talking about plans for the school. “About what?”
“Gifts. Yours, Van’s, Oscar’s, and…mine.”
“Your gift?” Annabelle asks, confused. “I thought you said the power bomb wasn’t a gift.”
“It’s not.”
“But…” She doesn’t say anything for a moment. Exhaling slowly, Annabelle seems to choose her words carefully. “I’ve suspected there was more of a reason Chris became a trainer than his botched mission. When you said your gift, it distracted me from the fact that Chris shouldn’t know about Van or Oscar having gifts.”
I was wonde
ring if she would catch that. “His gift is to sense them in other people. The council thought he could find the Gift faster than David.”
“Has he?” Annabelle asks.
“No, but…”
She hesitates. “But he sensed one in you? One neither of us knows about?”
I feel like I have to drag the word up my throat and past my lips. “Yes.”
She can hear the fear in my voice and doesn’t rush to know what he told me. “What does he think your gift is?” she asks slowly.
“Finding Richiamos.”
Chapter Six: New
(Vanessa)
I don’t want to be here. Not at this place with Chris hovering nearby. I do want to meet Emily and my nephew. Oscar needs me, too. I’m not really sure why, but he said it’s better when I’m here. What he meant by that got swallowed up by talk of missing pieces. It’s hard to see him like this after he was doing so well, but I understand. More than I ever did before.
Ketchup squeezes my hand as we wait. Oscar is too nervous to sit still. So he paces back and forth in front of us in a room that looks as though it used to be used for staff meetings or unpleasant parent-teacher conferences. I’ve had plenty of those, so I ought to be able to recognize one. From what Zander described last night after I finished destroying the punching bag, I expected filthy rooms with spider webs and trash. The room is pretty bare-bones, but it looks like any other room in a school might. Godlings work fast, apparently.
“She said she would come,” Oscar mumbles to himself as he passes by.
Ketchup is unfazed by my brother’s behavior and asks, “Where’s Zander?”
“Explaining things to Annabelle. He hadn’t told her about Joshua yet. Oscar wouldn’t let him. I guess it took some convincing before he agreed to let her be here when she shows up.”
“Ah,” Ketchup says.
I’m neither surprised by Oscar barring her initially, nor his decision to let her join us. I do think, however, that him giving in to Zander’s request has less to do with forgiving her for the night she took off and we all thought she’d ratted us out to David, and more to do with the fact that his ability to see people’s hunger allowed him to figure out about Annabelle’s gift for emotional healing. What she can do is only temporary, but very effective. I didn’t even know about it until Oscar spilled the beans. No secret is safe with him…except his own.
Wicked Revenge Page 4
