“This may feel strange, but stay focused while my power settles in, okay?”
I start to nod, then stiffen as a cold tingling envelops my entire body. It’s like when someone drops an ice cube down your shirt, but over every inch of my skin. Staying still is impossible and I shiver as the feeling seems to sink beneath my skin.
“Now, guide me to where you hold your power during a fight by drawing your power to that spot,” she instructs.
Normally that would be a pretty simple thing for me. The creepy tingle humming under my skin makes it more difficult to focus. She waits patiently for me to shake off the effect of her weird influence and begin pulling my power into my core where it’s easy to access during a fight.
“Very good,” she says quietly. “That was very effortless once you got over the distraction of my power. Nicely done. This next part will be more difficult.”
I’m about to ask her what she wants me to do now, but a strange chocking sound slips out of me when her power tightens around mine.
“Relax,” she whispers, “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You said you were going to guide me,” I say through clenched teeth. I’m trying not to fight against her intrusion, but instinct is fighting just as hard.
“You proved it was necessary,” she said, still calm but with an underlying hint of effort in her tenor.
Struggling to get my power to stop balling up in fear of her, I have to force my words out again. “Proved how?”
Carmine exhales slowly and increases the pressure she’s exerting on my power. “When you pulled your power in, you bypassed your source without even pausing, which tells me you don’t even know where it is, which explains a lot about why your gift is having so much trouble.”
“What?” I demand as I force my muscles to relax one by one. “What source? Isn’t it just all over?”
“Yes, your power fills your entire body, but it originates from a single source, which is a little different for every person,” she explains. Sighing at my resistance, she pushes harder. “The fact that your gift had no reason to manifest through most of your childhood did cause it to lay dormant, but meeting Ivy should have brought it rearing to life. Why that didn’t happen…”
With one final shove of her power, everything changes. As hard as my power was fighting her only a moment ago, it snaps to her call, to a spot at the base of my skull, slamming into it and knocking the breath out of me. I double over, gasping and trying to stop my head from spinning.
“What…the hell…was that?” I demanded between gasps.
“That,” Carmine says, “was your power going home.”
Slowly, I sit back up and raise my hands, trying to figure out why they feel so weird.
“Don’t worry, it’ll spread back out naturally over the next few hours, but you needed to experience what it feels like to have all your power at its source before you’ll be able to really move and control it.” She watches me, gauging my reactions.
Shaking my head, I say, “I don’t like this.”
Carmine chuckles. “None of us really do, but it’s important to be able to call your power back to its source.”
“Why?” I clench and unclench my fingers, uncomfortable with the strange empty feeling in them, almost as if they were numb, but they aren’t.
“Shoving your power around or squashing it into a ball at your core so it’s easy to access during a fight is useful, but only requires brute strength. Doing something like what your sister can do requires finesse, fine control. You can only get that if you take control at the source of your power and go from there,” she says.
Shaking out my hands before giving up and dropping them to my knees, I get what she’s saying. That’s true about fighting and sports in many ways. It’s not the concept that’s giving me trouble. It’s the use. “What does that have to do with making my gift wake up?”
“Few gifts work on a continuous basis,” Carmine says. “Strong ones work latently, while weak ones have to be nudged every time you want it to do something. Your gift is strong, but it’s had no reason to develop on a latent level, which is usually what happens first with strong talents. Without the latency, you weren’t aware enough of it to coax it into doing more. So, it’s just been sitting around at the source of your power, taking it easy, and it seems to enjoy being there and doesn’t want to move.”
This all sounds so ridiculous, but it’s far from the stupidest thing I’ve come to believe in lately. “So, what do I do to get it moving?”
“Well, first I’m going to show you how to draw your power back from your source, then we’re going to do it all over again.”
“Why?” I can’t help asking. This feeling is worse than bugs scurrying across my skin.
“It’s good practice for moving your power around,” Carmine says, “and once you get use to the feel of your power, you’ll be able to recognize the part that’s staying behind.”
“My gift?”
She smiles. “You’ve got it.”
Great.
For two hours, that’s all we do. I go from feeling like I’m lying on an ant hill to being flooded with the comforting warmth of my power, then back to the ant hill. Over and over again. It’s not until about the dozenth time Carmine helps me drag my power away from the source that I hesitate at the feel of something slightly different brushing up against my subconscious.
At first, it’s just a glancing touch, hot, compelling, and…familiar. Carmine doesn’t stop me when I pull back from directing my power and attempt investigating. The spot of power seems to shrink. When I move toward it, it pulls back. We play chase for a few seconds before I realize it’s pointless, and force calmness into my thoughts and body. It stays still. When I inhale slowly, it’s as if it’s carried on some invisible breeze. It floats closer. Panic begins rising in my gut before I understand why. It’s not until the bubble of power settles next to my conscious thought that I realize why it felt so familiar. My gift, it feels like…Ivy.
Chapter Fifteen: Everything
(Vanessa)
Exhausted, I flop down into a chair next to Noah. “How’s it going?”
“Slow,” he says with a sigh.
I know the feeling. Sinking into the chair, I pull my feet up and wrap my arms around my knees. “Still working on security, or are you looking for info now?”
“Security,” he grumbles.
I wish I could help him, but I know very little about computers. My parents and Grandma always limited our use as much as possible. Too many potential triggers. That was their excuse, anyway. I know on some level they’re right, but hiding from everything that might set us off just made accidental exposures so much worse. Annabelle loves TV. I’ve only recently begun to explore it, but it’s scary, which makes me feel like a two-year-old.
“Where’s Ketchup?” Noah asks as he clicks and taps away on the keyboard.
Shrugging, I tug my phone out of my back pocket and see if he’s texted in a while. Nope. “Last I heard from him he was helping clear out some of the classrooms. He’ll probably come looking for me soon. We’re going to grab pizza on the way home before we get back to studying for finals. Wanna come?”
“Sure,” he says. He squints at something on the screen and types in a string of numbers and letters before sitting back. “He wasn’t watching you train?”
“He did for a while, to make sure I was going to be okay with it, but he got bored with the slowness of Tai Chi and went to help out instead of sticking around to watch me box Caleb.”
Noah chuckles. “I’m not sure how anyone gets bored watching you train, even with Tai Chi. You can do some crazy stuff, Van.” Looking over at me, he smiles. “I’ve missed working out with you.”
“I know.” My gaze drops to my knees. When he reaches over and squeezes my shoulder, I try to face him, but can’t.
“No rush,” he says, “but I’m here whenever you’re ready. You know that, right?”
Tears sting the corners of my eyes
. “Yeah, I know.”
Noah rubs his eyes and scrubs his hands through his hair, actually managing to mess it up a little. He links his hands behind his head and closes his eyes. “How come Ketchup never trains with you? I’d think he’d be all over getting you on a grappling mat with him.”
His teasing lifts my mood a little. “He’s never been into that sort of thing.” Heat flushes through me. “Fighting, I mean, not…you know.”
“Getting hot and heavy with you?” Noah chuckles when I dropped my forehead to my knees.
“He’ll do some of the isolation and muscle endurance training with me, and we’ll throw knives together. Some things he joins in, but he’s just not aggressive enough to enjoy the martial arts like we do,” I say.
“Unless it comes to defending you,” Noah corrects. “He’ll fight if he has to.”
I have to concede that point, because I did watch Ketchup clock my brother and lay him out on the asphalt the night we stopped him from killing Ivy. Ketchup can fight. He’s tall, strong, and built like a professional soccer player. Aside from throwing a punch to defend me on a few occasions, I’ve never seen him really get into a fight. Shrugging, I figure that’s just how he is and I wouldn’t dream of changing anything about him.
“So,” Noah begins hesitantly, “has Ketchup been like living with you guys lately?”
Lifting my head, I eye him. I know he’s accepted that there never was and never will be a romantic relationship between us, but he’s always still held onto a tiny bit of his jealousy in regards to Ketchup. It’s there now, just barely. “Between my nightmares, caring for Grandma, and everything Zander’s responsible for now, he’s been helping out a lot. He sleeps in the spare room.”
“Nightmares?” Noah asks.
I nod. “They’ve been bad since what happened at the Eroi compound. Zander’s used to them from when I used to have them after my parents died, but he’s not always there at night and…”
“Ketchup is.” He nods slowly, this time without any hint of anger toward him. “Does Zander let him stay with you when have nightmares?”
Sighing, I look over at him, expecting to see frustration or longing. I don’t. Instead, all that stares back at me is compassion and worry. “Yes,” I admit.
He nods. “Good.”
For a long time, we sit in silence. I’m so tired, I can barely think. It’s been a while since I’ve been pushed so hard physically. Burning off the power I’d been accumulating from sitting with Grandma felt good, though. Easing her pain does help, but she has so much pain, I can’t balance what I’m taking in with what I’m trying to release very well. It’s forcing my control to grow by leaps and bounds, but it’s physically and emotionally exhausting. The only thoughts I can hold onto aside from how tired I am are ones focused on Noah and my conversation with his mom.
“Can I ask you something?”
Noah startles from half-sleep, and I instantly feel bad for waking him up. “What? Yeah. Sure.” He rubs his eyes and blinks several times before looking over at me.
“Why did you keep doing Jeet Kune Do after your family left the Eroi?”
He seems confused by my question. I pull back, thinking maybe his mom only said those things to make me feel better, more connected to her son, and to make me trust them more. A sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach as I wait for his response.
“To protect you,” he says, shrugging when he can’t figure out why I even asked, as though I should have already known the answer.
I’m somewhat relieved his mom wasn’t lying, but I find myself doubting him just as much as I did her. “How could that really be the reason? You were so young and didn’t even know me. There’s no way you made a big decision like that without comprehending what you were getting yourself into.”
Noah can barely get his eyes to open more than halfway after staring at a computer for most of the afternoon and evening, but he’s fully focused on me in this moment. “Yeah, I was young. No, I didn’t know you. I’m sure the full implications of what I was agreeing to were too big for me to understand at that age. It doesn’t change the fact that I knew I needed to protect you.”
“That makes almost no sense, Noah. Come on. You can just say you liked kicking people and being the most badass kindergartener in school.”
Noah chuckles. “Maybe that was a small part of it,” he admits with a tired grin, “but…” He shifts and takes his wallet from his back pocket. Tossing it at me, he closes his eyes again before I catch it, and waves absently in my direction. “In the big pocket, with the cash.”
Confused, but curious, I rifle through his wallet. My first question is why he’s carrying so much cash around. There’s like three hundred dollars in here. I push a fifty aside and freeze. My fingers feel cold as I extract the picture and stare at it. I’m so consumed by what I’m looking at, I don’t even notice we aren’t alone anymore until Ketchup plants a kiss on my cheek and I drop the photo.
He reaches down and picks it up for me. “Is this you?” Laughing, he hands it back to me. “Man, you were adorable. How can anyone blame me for falling for you on day one?”
Noah chuckles without opening his eyes.
“Where did you get this?” I demand. “And why do you still have it in your wallet? And what’s with all the cash?”
Ketchup raises an eyebrow and stares at Noah. “Dude, that’s a little weird. Can’t say I love you carrying around pictures of my girlfriend.”
That is a huge improvement in reaction from a few months ago, but I’m more concerned with Noah right now. “Why do you have this?”
“You asked why I kept training and helped my parents.” He gestures at the picture. “That’s why. I kept it to remind myself. That’s why I still keep it.”
“What?” I ask quietly.
Finally, Noah sits up and faces me. “The day after we left the Eroi, my parents sat me and Kennedy down and explained our new assignment. They gave us a choice, even though they knew it would be hard to pull us from participating without attracting attention. My mom gave me that picture. She said I didn’t have to help, but as soon as I saw you, it gave me purpose, which I needed. Even being so young, the Eroi was everything I knew. I didn’t understand why we had to leave my friends and teachers, but I trusted my parents when they said it was the right thing for us. I wanted to do right, protect people. I thought that’s what the Eroi were training me to do. It wasn’t, but helping with the mission gave that back to me. It gave me you, maybe not in the way I was hoping, but I don’t regret my choice. That’s why I keep it in my wallet.”
Stunned by everything he just said, all I can offer as a response is, “Oh.”
“And the cash is for emergencies, which you tend to have a lot of.”
It takes me a moment before I can collect myself to return the picture to his wallet and slide it across the table toward him. As soon as it’s within reach, he palms it and shoves it back into his pocket.
“Did your mom find anything else about the mark?” I ask.
Noah shakes his head. “It’s all drivel, Van. Don’t waste time thinking about that crap. We’ve got more important things to worry about.” I can tell from his tone he’s upset with me. So can Ketchup.
“Hey, I told Zander I’d let him know we’re leaving before we took off. Meet me downstairs?” Ketchup says as he stands. I nod and he squeezes my shoulder before giving us some privacy.
Sighing, I turn to face Noah. His eyes are closed, but his set jaw says he’s not asleep. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”
He blows out an annoyed breath. “I’m not mad at you. It’s just that…you don’t get it sometimes.”
“Get what?” I ask warily, worried this is going to be a discussion about feelings or love or something equally weird and uncomfortable.
“That you’re not the only one who got screwed over by all of this,” he snaps.
Shocked by his answer, I’m not sure what to say at first. He doesn’t really give me a chance before
he continues on, anyway.
“You’re not the only one who got lied to, or had to give things up. You’re not the only one who’s lost friends because of who you are and what you can do. Maybe I’m not some superhuman, prophecy fulfilling, power wielding mythical being, but my entire life has been about protecting you. How do you hide how much you care about someone when you’re trying to report on them to people who believe your target is demon spawn and should be destroyed? Siding with Godlings is a punishable offense within the Eroi, Van. And we’re not talking about time out,” he growled.
“Every time I had to discuss my interactions with you to my handler, I was terrified I’d out myself, and not even because I was afraid of getting myself killed, but because it would set them off after you. I know I lied to you, over and over again. So did you. We both lied. We both hid ourselves. It is what it is, but doesn’t all of that grant me some sort of credit with you? Do I keep having to prove myself over and over again? Maybe I do. Maybe I’m being unreasonable. I don’t even know anymore,” he snaps. “I just…I need to know you trust me, Van. I can’t handle wondering if you’re going to do something crazy without telling me. Run off after the Eroi and get yourself killed. I need to be able to trust that you’ll let me protect you. It’s making me crazy thinking I’ll show up here one day to find you gone, or dead. Maybe Ketchup would say you’re not mine to protect, but it’s not about that.”
He sighs and closes his eyes again. “You are my purpose. It’s not romantic, but I love you. I can’t lose you. I’m terrified you’re going to…”
“Run off half-cocked, alone, and get myself killed?” I say quietly.
“That,” he says slowly, “or do something that will break you so much we won’t be able to put you back together.”
I shiver. “The emptiness.”
My words are barely audible, but he looks over at me and the tortured expression on his face says he definitely heard me. “I think that would be even worse than the alternative.”
Dying scares me, but I know he’s right. The emptiness absolutely terrifies me. It’s not just that I can’t hardly recognize myself when I get like that. When the emptiness takes over, I don’t care what I do, who I hurt, what lives I end. Nothing matters but reaching my goal.
Wicked Revenge Page 13
