Wicked Revenge

by Gladden, DelSheree

  He pauses just long enough for me to break in. “What do you mean her power has been awake longer than it should have been.” As soon as he said that, my thoughts jumped back to what Cat said about Van’s power being more advanced.

  Caleb steps back from a still stunned Van, but doesn’t move too far from her. He turns to me and seems to consider my question before posing one of his own. “When was the first time you remember consciously accessing your power to do something a normal human can’t?”

  I have to think for a moment before I can answer that accurately. “I was seven. Mom had sent me and Oscar outside to play. I wanted to swing, but Oscar had flipped the swings over the top bar and wouldn’t help me get them down. We got into a fight, pushing and shoving mostly, and I remember feeling his hits land and being surprised by the pain’s effect on me. I fed on it and felt it make me stronger. I punched him in the face and was able to jump higher than I should have been able to and got the swings down.”

  Caleb nods, then gestures toward Oscar, who looks to be in his own world, but answers right away. “Nine. Broke two fingers falling out of the tree in the backyard after Mom told me not to climb it. Suck up all the pain and mended them in less than a minute. She never knew.”

  A small sense of satisfaction makes one corner of my mouth tip up as Oscar scowls at having to admit he was older than me when first accessing his power. Caleb turning purposefully toward Van distracts me from any childish sibling triumph. Her eyes are downcast, one arm crossed over her middle to hold the other arm close to her side. She flinches when Caleb speaks.

  “And you, Van? What age did you first access your power?”

  She scowls at him, but relents. “It was a playdate with the twins, Sandra and Kari. Mom was adding wood to the fireplace, so the guard was pulled back, but Kari rolled a ball too close to the fireplace. She ran for it, and I saw her foot catch on the bricks. Mom had turned away to get a log and didn’t see her falling. I knew she’d fall into the fire and get burned. I didn’t think about it, really, just found something inside that responded and jumped halfway across the room for her, pulled her back before she fell into the flames. The ball was toast though, melted all over the bricks into a disgusting mess.”

  I vaguely remember hearing that story before. Van has saved all of her friends, so I knew that applied to either Kari or Sandra—they’re a packaged deal in all things—but I can’t place when it had happened.

  When Caleb gives Van a pointed look, she sighs. “Three, okay? I was three.” Glaring up at him, she demands, “How did you even know about that?”

  “Your mother mentioned it to your grandmother after it happened, and well, she passed it on to us,” he explains.

  Shaking my head, I step back into the conversation. “Wait, are you saying our grandma has been in contact with you guys this whole time?”

  “Not regularly, but she knew of the prophecy. She also knew what the Godling council’s response would be. She hated us almost much as them, but trusted our motives and philosophy enough to ask for guidance with Van over approaching the Godlings,” he says. “She wasn’t sure, but she knew there was something different about her, and different has always been dangerous within the Godling ranks.”

  “Yet she handed me over to him anyway,” Van spits.

  Caleb sighs. “She didn’t think you’d be able to stop Zander, and she knew our rules about that sort of thing. Fighting in a military sense is one thing, killing innocents is another. Had your great grandfather been taken by the rogues, the result wouldn’t have been any different than what happened with the cops, except it would have been done privately and humanely.”

  “You would have killed Zander if she’d called you?” Van demands, incensed at the possibility.

  Holding up a hand to ward off any further outbursts, he says, “He would have been taken into custody pending a trial. Given that Ivy was Richiamos, no, Zander wouldn’t have been executed, but we wouldn’t have just let him walk away, either. We survive outside the Godling society by holding to strict laws. Zander’s case was unique, but your grandmother saw our laws as cruel and turned to what she knew. Letting David train you was better than the possibility that we might kill you. It was a misguided fear, but…” He shrugs, and I understand his frustration.

  So much of what we’ve gone through has been because of misunderstandings, false assumptions, secrets, and outright lies. When everyone is out to kill each other, it’s pretty tough to stick around long enough to get all the facts. Figuring out what to trust when you do learn something is another battle all together. And as for who to trust…I feel like I might as well be drawing straws at random on most days. Which brings us to the original reason behind this meeting.

  “Van wasn’t the only reason we’re here today,” I say. “I know you probably still see yourselves and the Godlings who fled the compound as being on opposite sides of this war, but the truth is, they’re just as much rogues as you are. You say you don’t have the strength to go up against David, we’ve got a bunch of half-trained kids in need of protection. We’re missing trainers and leaders, but we’re not going to just roll over and let you guys take charge. What we’re offering is a truce and partnership until all of this is over.”

  “And then?” Caleb asks.

  Holding up my hands, I can’t give him an answer. “Your guess is as good as mine. Right now, after is an uncertainty. What isn’t an uncertainty is that the Eroi, and what’s left of the Godling hierarchy, are going to come for the kids. A whole generation of soldiers are hiding inside an abandoned school right now, and if you don’t want them to be the next wave to come after you, we need your help.”

  “Our children will not set foot in that school,” Caleb says.

  “Look,” I snap, “I’m not interested in shaking up how you guys live. Do whatever the hell you want. It seems to be working just fine. These kids, though, they know absolutely nothing about the world outside the Godling compound. They’re not soldiers, and not ready for a battle with hardened, battle-tried men and women who won’t hesitate to kill whoever gets in their way. If you really value life like you claim, come help us protect a bunch of innocent kids who’ve lost pretty much everything they’ve ever known.”

  For a long time, Caleb doesn’t say anything. His gaze assesses me, unwavering, before turning to watch Van for an equally long time. “I won’t force anyone to join this effort. Volunteers only.”

  “Fine,” I say, feeling confident curiosity alone will provide plenty of recruits. “What else?”

  “I want a seat on whatever council you all have formed. If I’m putting my people at risk, I need a say is how it goes down.”

  Scoffing, I gesture at myself and my siblings. “You’re pretty much looking at the ruling body, with the exception of Chris. Nothing’s been formally put together at this point. If it is, though, I have no problem with you being on equal ground with everyone.”

  Caleb seems surprisingly at ease with a major assault being coordinated by two teenagers, a guy with questionable sanity on good days, and one lone adult Godling. “I’d like to work with Van when not involved in training the Godling children or planning strategy.”

  Gesturing at my sister, I say, “Her training is her call. Convince her.”

  Van eyes him and doesn’t disagree to his request, but she doesn’t agree either. Caleb takes that for what is it and nods. “We have a deal then.”

  I glance over at Oscar, wary this has been too easy. Focusing my gaze on Caleb, I fold my arms. “That’s it? You say okay and we’re all set to merge two groups that have been at odds for centuries?”

  Caleb chuckles. “Given that I’m in charge of the military component of the rogues, and that the council gave me permission to negotiate and make the final decision, yes. That’s it.” He takes a card from his wallet and extends it toward me.

  I take it and read the wording before looking back up at him with a skeptical expression. “Traffic engineer?”

  Caleb shrugs. �
�I have a day job. We all do.” When I can’t erase my skepticism, he smiles. “We’re not like the Godlings, Zander. We don’t want to rule the world or make everyone bow down to us because of our superior abilities. We just want to live our lives and protect our families, same as you.”

  I stare at the business card again, then stuff it in my pocket. “I’ll be in touch with logistics.”

  “Let me know what trainers you need and I’ll do my best to fill the gaps with my people who are willing to come,” he says. “We may not operate a formal school, but whatever one of our children need, we make sure they have it. Living a normal life depends on blending in. We’re a little like chameleons in that way, so hopefully we’ll be able to cover wherever you’re short.”

  Nodding, I shake his hand when he offers it. I can tell Van is eager to get back, and Oscar’s not even supposed to be away from the school, but the eclectic nature of his group’s training system makes me wonder. As he turns away, I ask, “Do you have someone who knows about gifts that refuse to manifest?”

  Caleb turns back, eyeing me in a way that says he knows this is a personal request. “I think I know someone who can help.” That’s as much of a promise as he’s willing to give as he walks away.

  A few minutes later, when we’re all back in the truck, my body finally relaxes. A strange sense of excitement hums under my skin. There is potential for this partnership to go horribly wrong if these two groups can’t work together. It’s a risk, but one I’m surprisingly eager to explore. I wonder how many members of our extended family will be willing to come. I wonder, as well, if Caleb will be able to convince this unnamed trainer to help me unlock my gift.

  I know the protection of the school and all the students should be my top priority, but my promise to Ivy sits on my shoulders with equal weight. Anything to do with her is laden with emotional baggage I’ve yet to truly deal with. It’s not just keeping a promise to a young woman I both loved and hated, though. Ivy held secrets, not intentionally, but in being what she was. Isolde tried to unlock those secrets by force. We attempted to discover the truth through botched attempts at reconciliation. Sonya is my last chance to understand the bond between Godling and Richiamos, the truth behind our creation and existence, and whether the power we held was meant for more than destruction and murder.

  Chapter Twelve: Feel-Good Lie Detector

  (Vanessa)

  With everything else going on since my birthday, the topic of me getting a driver’s license never came up. Honestly, I didn’t want the responsibility or hassle of dealing with it, and I knew I was never short on people willing to give me rides. Something has changed. I crave the freedom to come and go when I want. Not only that, I still intend to be the least intrusive burden on Zander as possible. That means becoming a little more independent.

  In secret.

  “You know I’m one hundred percent happy driving you around whenever you want, right?” Ketchup asks as I place my hands on the steering wheel of his car. I pretend not to see him flinch.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Exhaling slowly, Ketchup seems ridiculously worried about this. Driving a car isn’t brain surgery, for crying out loud. What is he so freaked out about? His car is an automatic, so it’s not like I have to start out worrying about clutches and parking brakes or whatever. Put it in drive, turn the wheel, follow the speed limit. Easy peasy, right?

  “Okay,” Ketchup says, “when you’re ready, press in the brake, shift into drive, and lightly push down on the gas pedal. We’re just going to circle the parking lot, all right?”

  I nod and follow his instructions to the letter, including his unnecessary lightly command. We inch forward, rolling across faded paint that once marked out parking spaces. I keep my attention directly in front of me, but it doesn’t keep me from noticing Ketchup’s hand gripping the panic bar. Holding back a scowl, I turn in a slow circle and let the gentle hum of the car’s engine ease away some of the tension I’ve been holding since our meeting with Caleb yesterday.

  Ketchup knows everything. I’m not sure whether that has something to do with why he’s being so weird about a driving lesson, but he’s been keeping tabs on me a little closer since I spilled about the relatives we had no clue existed and the fact that I might be meeting a whole lot more of them on Monday. He knows I’m pissed at Grandma for hiding yet another life altering piece of information, but it’s hardly the biggest thing I’ve had to deal with. Learning I have cousins is the least of my problems right now.

  “This is kind of fun,” I say. Ketchup nods slowly, which annoys me even more. Ignoring him, I turn again, but straighten out when I near the exit of the parking lot.

  “What are you doing?” Ketchup demands. “I said I’d let you do donuts in the parking lot. This is a road. A road, Van. Turn around. Let’s practice parking or something, okay?”

  Rolling my eyes, I say, “If I’d known you were going to be such a baby about this, I would have asked Zander.”

  His eyes widen as I roll to a stop at the edge of the parking lot and look both directions down the completely empty street. I almost forget my turn signal, but flick it on before moving an inch, and check the road again.

  “Van…” He draws out my name like he’s addressing a two-year-old.

  I pull onto the street slowly and calmly accelerate to the whopping speed of twenty-five miles per hour. Glad Ketchup picked a small neighborhood to start in, I smile as I continue down the road. This feels good. I know it’s a silly thing to take pleasure in, but it’s the first time in weeks I’ve felt I was in control of something.

  “There’s a stoplight ahead,” Ketchup says worriedly, even though I saw it before I even pulled out onto the street.

  Refusing to acknowledge him, I roll to a stop. There’s no one else in sight, no cross traffic even. I’m not in a hurry, so we wait in unequal silence until the green blinks on and I check to make sure no one’s going to blow through the intersection at the last minute before accelerating. Ketchup flinches as a car pulls onto the street several hundred feet in front of us. He’s going to drive me nuts before we make another mile.

  “That car’s turning, slow down so you don’t get too close,” he warns, still gripping the panic bar.

  This time I resist the urge to roll my eyes, and slow down well ahead of time. The car turns and I drive on.

  “Jaywalker,” Ketchup says in a panic as he points to the next intersection where a vagrant is shuffling across the street, which is empty aside from us. Even if I hadn’t slowed down, he’s far enough away that I wouldn’t have even come close to hitting him. I slow down anyway, to keep Ketchup from having a heart attack.

  The rest of the drive pretty much goes the same way. Ketchup is more distracting with his panicked pointing and help than anything else. Despite my annoyance at his lack of faith in me, I find the act of driving supremely fun and begin plotting the best way to ask Zander about getting me a car. Hopefully he won’t be as weird about it as Ketchup.

  When we pull up to the curb in front of Noah’s house, Ketchup exhales as if he’s just survived something horrible. A few seconds later, Noah comes jogging out his front door, mouth open as he stares at me getting out of the car. “You drove here?” he demands. His gaze flicks over to Ketchup. “I thought you were joking! What were you thinking letting her drive?”

  “I couldn’t exactly stop her once she started,” Ketchup snapped.

  “Why was she even in driver’s seat to begin with?” Noah wanted to know.

  Ketchup throws his hands up. “She said she wanted a driving lesson, so I took her to an empty parking lot.”

  “And what, she just kept going?”

  “Pretty much,” Ketchup said. “What was I supposed to do? Tackle her?”

  “She doesn’t even have a permit!”

  “I know! I didn’t think anyone would care about her doing a few circles around a parking lot.” Ketchup shrugs.

  I’m halfway to Noah’s front door before either of them realiz
e I’ve ditched them. They both come running up, Noah grabbing my arm when he reaches me. I shake him off and keep going. I’m not really here to see him anyway, and if he’s going to be a baby along with Ketchup, they can do that without me. Honestly, I thought he’d be at the Godling school trying to hack into the Eroi databases still. That’s pretty much all he’s done outside of studying for finals.

  Noah’s mom looks up when I walk into the kitchen and freezes. We haven’t spoken since Noah revealed he and his entire family are sleeper operatives for the Eroi, and have been watching my family for years for any sign of us going nuts and plotting to destroy the city or whatever. I’m not exactly keen on talking to her now, either, but I need a few answers.

  When Ketchup and Noah stumble into the kitchen behind me, her expression changes from wary to confused. “What’s going on?”

  Waving a hand at them, I say, “Ignore them. They’re both being super weird about me learning to drive.”

  Noah’s mom doesn’t seem to get it either. “What’s so bad about Van learning to drive? She’s sixteen and a half years old.”

  Noah gapes at his mom. “Are you serious? Van, with her temper and control issues, on the road? In a vehicle that weighs several thousand pounds? With other drivers? Where she could get pissed off, or her hunger could flare, and she might do something crazy?”

  Spinning around, I whack both of them as hard as I can without actually doing any real damage. “That’s why you two are being such pricks about this? You thought I’d flip out the second someone pulled out in front of me and become some crazy homicidal driver?” I hit them again. “Thanks a lot!”

  Ketchup holds up his hands to fend off another attack before saying, “You’d never even been behind the wheel before and you just took off and drove all the way here!”

  Now Noah’s mom eyes me a little more critically. “You drove the whole way here your first time driving?”