The only talking as we walk is Joshua’s babbling. It’s not until we step outside to a walled courtyard where cleanup is only half finished. Those who had been assigned to clear the grounds, so high value targets like myself could spend time outdoors with little risk, were moved to security preparations after Van was attacked. Zander’s order. A good one, actually. I’m pleased to see him taking charge and leading as he should. It’s shifting his self-centered focus. He’s needed that for a long time.
“This may be the only freedom I ever have,” I say to Emily when my thoughts shift suddenly.
She looks over at me and smiles. “I know that, Oscar.”
“Does it bother you?”
“When the alternative is not seeing you at all?” She shakes her head. “No, it doesn’t bother me.”
“I think it should bother you.” It would make sense for it to be a problem, being stuck in one place, one building, one job, with no option to ever move. Maybe it won’t always be that way, but this war has raged for centuries and I doubt our ability to end it completely.
Emily pulls in next to me. “We can make a life together here, in a cabin in the woods where no one can find us, or on a deserted island. It doesn’t matter, Oscar. Being together is more important.”
“Do you still want to marry me?” I ask.
We were never officially engaged. We talked about it, planned, but I had not actually proposed. My mental state was deteriorating and I didn’t think it fair to ask something like that of her. Marriage had been discussed as something for the future, when I was better, or at least managing my madness well enough to be a good partner to her.
“Do you really have to ask me that?” She looks up at me, smiling. “Even when things were at their worst, walking away was never an option for me, Oscar. Yes, I still want to marry you. Whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m not sure we could make it official,” I muse. “Is it possible to get a marriage license while hiding from the police?”
Emily chuckles. “Probably not, but that’s okay. Even if it’s never official, we could still have the ceremony someday. I’m not all that worried about the paperwork.”
I would like to have the paperwork. Make Emily my wife legally. Be able to openly claim Joshua as my son. Family is important. Then again, the legalities of a world I don’t really now belong to, and have never truly felt part of, seem to matter less. David had documents claiming to be our uncle. They were false, lies, deceit, but everyone believed him. They would have let him take Van when my grandma dies. What good is it to have paperwork when it can so easily be false? Promising myself to Emily and Joshua means more than that.
“Tonight?” I ask.
Emily fingers stop tickling Joshua’s side. She stares up at me for a moment, as though trying to make sure she heard me right. Once she’s convinced, she says, “Okay.”
I nod and decide we can take care of the details after our walk. Joshua squirms, whining as he reaches toward the ground. I set him down on the remains of a small lawn. He isn’t bothered by the prickly blades that greatly outnumber the new growth trying desperately to push through. Digging his hands into the neglected grass, Joshua happily tears at it.
“Is it him, or Van?”
I’m not really asking Emily, but she shrugs. “I wish I understood more about the hunger and power it generates so I could help. He’s been behind on hitting most of his physical milestones, but he’s very perceptive and watches everything. Maybe he just gets what Van needs, or wants to make her feel better when she’s sad. Could it be that simple?”
Discounting options without proof is foolish, but I slowly shake my head. “He responds to power, even without having any. Not hunger, though. My hunger was raging to make someone pay for attacking Van that night, but Joshua only picked up on the power trapped inside Van and pushed her to release it. When they play their game, he follows the path her power takes and knows when it’s about to pop.”
“Chris has never seen something like that?”
I shake my head, irritated he wasn’t more helpful. Slipping free of Emily’s hand, I walk to the dead grass and sit with my son. He continues to rip up the dry blades and throw them at me until I do something I haven’t done since killing David. His head snaps up as soon as I begin gathering power to my core. His head cocks to the side as he waits for me to do something with it.
While I have little problem moving my power around, like Zander I also am incapable of making it leave my body in any other way than as a weapon. Joshua reaches me, wanting to play Van’s game, but lets his hands fall when I only move the power around my body. His eyes follow the movement, however. Curious as to whether he can actually see it, or only sense it, I decide to test him.
Moving the core of my power to my shoulder, I ask him, “Where?”
Realizing this is a new game, his expression brightens and he points to the right location. When I move it to my knee and ask again, he slaps my knee and claps at his correct answer. We play for several more minutes before I change tactics.
Power obeys many laws of physics. Not all, but most. One it does follow is that no matter how big or small I make the same amount of power, the actual quantity doesn’t change. That is a concept a one-year-old would not understand. Seen, power spread out would seem bigger. Power condensed, small. Felt, it would all seem the same.
Spreading my power out evenly within my body, I open my arms wide and ask Joshua, “Big?” I bring my two index fingers close together and ask again, “Small?”
Emily steps forward, saying, “I’m not sure he can understand…”
Her words are interrupted as Joshua spreads his arms out wide and squeals.
Emily frowns. I’m not wholly convinced either, so I pull my power in, condensing it as much as possible, and repeat my question and arm movements. Joshua claps his hands together once and holds them there. Because it could be a fluke, I repeat the questions several more times, in random order. Every time, he gets the answer right.
That tells me he does indeed see the power, visually, as I can, but doesn’t explain his ability to know when Van needs to expend harmful power. Is there something else he’s aware of that even I can’t see?
Drawing on my quiet hunger, I think of Van being attacked and what I wanted to do to the men who had dared hurt her. My power quivers within me, itching for release, until Joshua suddenly presses his hands against my chest and says, “Ba, ba!”
I can’t do as he asks, but am curious whether my physical reactions to thinking of Van’s attackers caused his reaction, or something else. Setting him back down in front of me, I try something else. Regular exercise and sparring, combined with a largely peaceful atmosphere and mind, means my stored power is minimal. Nothing compared to what I held before killing David. Even so, I’m practiced enough at weaponizing my power that I am able to draw it to my hands quickly. That’s as far as it goes, but the twisting necessary to do even that instantly alerts Joshua. His eyes widen and his head shakes back and forth so hard he almost knocks himself over. “Dada,” he says, shaking his head as he bats at my hands.
That’s as much of a reaction as I need to convince me my son has the incomprehensible ability to see the rightness or wrongness of how power is used, and even whether or not it is harmful to the user. I know my mind is not always to be trusted, but this is something to be sure about, something to be amazed by, and aggravatingly confusing.
The morning after the attack on Van, I woke first and realized she and Joshua were missing. Trust in my little sister was less than it normally would have been that morning. I saw the note before I could panic, and woke Emily and Ketchup. She was already dancing by the time we arrived at the gym, but she didn’t notice us. As calming and peaceful as it is to watch Van dance, Joshua stole much of my focus. He sat perfectly still, watching her move across the floor with rapt attention. The concentration on his little face was almost laughable. He was so intent as he studied her. I thought, at the time, he was merely captivating b
y her movements. Now, I think he was watching her power, making sure it burned away to a low enough level that it wouldn’t continue to hurt her.
That on its own is fascinating. The fact that Joshua could be the guide to Van discovering the true purpose of the power is…startling.
Chapter Twenty: A Fugitive and A Secret-Keeper
(Zander)
Van squirms as she sits across from me, which I’ll admit is a little gratifying. Even though she can push her power around, make it pop, and see visions, she didn’t know about power having a “home” any more than I did. She hates the feeling of pulling her power to its home just as much as I do, but we both need to practice. Now that finals are over and summer has officially begun, we’re actually able to put a decent amount of time into it. Something we both have mixed feelings about.
“Tell me again what your gift feels like?” Van asks shivering as she holds her power at its source.
“Warm, like it’s pulling me to it, familiar…I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”
Van frowns. “Familiar how?”
Regretting my word choice, I debate whether or not to be honest. Annabelle is downstairs watching Joshua, but I still feel bad admitting it. My guilty association isn’t worth holding Van back on something this important. Sighing in frustration, I say, “Like Ivy, okay? It feels like Ivy.”
Opening her eyes, Van considers me closely. “Well, she was Richiamos.”
“So?”
She shrugs. “So maybe that’s what you’re recognizing, not necessarily feeling Ivy.”
“Do you think so?” I ask, trying not to sound as relieved as I feel. I’ve been hesitant to discuss this with Carmine, and had been too embarrassed and worried about hurting Annabelle to bring it up with her.
“Makes sense to me,” Van says. Blowing out a breath, she closes her eyes again and attempts to focus. “Maybe if I look for a familiar feeling, too. This stupid Gift should be acting latently if it’s as awesome as they keep saying it is, right?”
The sarcasm coating her words makes me chuckle. I always feel bad when I trivialize something Annabelle believes in without meaning to. She understands that ninety percent of this sounds absolutely ridiculous to an outsider, which we still are in many ways. We didn’t grow up believing in gifts and prophecies and gods and demigods. Even now, some of it is still too hard to swallow.
As Van and I work to push our power back through our bodies and away from its source, I feel less guilty about exploring the feel of my sleeping gift. I can find it every time now. Waking it up is a different matter altogether. Nudging it does nothing. Backing off but staying close will get it to brush up against my consciousness, but that’s about it.
“Hmm,” Van says absently, “I do feel something, but it’s…it reminds me of Grandma and…Ketchup.” Peeking one eye open, she gives me a quizzical look. “That’s weird, right?”
“Maybe the Gift relates to something they have in common?” I offer.
Abandoning the exercise, Van’s shoulders drop and she leans back against the bed in a huff. “What on earth do they have in common? I can’t think of a single thing. Grandma is controlling and seems to enjoy lying to us, neither of which Ketchup does. Grandma is from the Godling bloodline while Ketchup is fully human.”
“They both love you,” I say, shrugging.
Van rolls her eyes. “What am I, a beauty pageant contestant? All I want is world peace. My gift is not going to make everyone love each other and turn into Disney characters who always help each other and share their toys while singing and dancing.”
“You’ve been hanging out with Joshua too much,” I say with a laugh.
Van stews for a few minutes before saying, “There’s got to be a connection.”
“You’ll figure it out,” I tell her. “Before I will, most likely.” Done for tonight, I stand and offer Van my hand. She flops down on her bed and I try not to flinch or think about the fact that’s it’s also been Ketchup’s bed since Chris locked the school down.
Van must see my reaction, because she chuckles. “Grow up,” she says. “We’re not having sex.” She sighs as her amusement deflates. “This lockdown is getting old fast. I’m going to go crazy being stuck here.”
“You’re complaining about the lockdown?” I scoff. “You’ve been able to go to school and go by the house to visit grandma and work with Cynthia. Most of the other young Godlings aren’t even allowed outside the building.”
Van rolls her eyes. “It’s still frustrating. Besides, I don’t think you’re going to get your gift to wake up without exposing it to something more than Godlings.”
“Where am I going to find a Richiamos to test it out on?” I drawl. “Waking up my gift is kind of important to doing the actual finding, remember?”
Shaking her head at me, she says, “Think about what happens to Richiamos children who aren’t trained to deal with the pain they soak up.”
My expression sours immediately. I never enjoyed going to Peak View to visit Oscar, not only because I hated seeing him locked up there, but because the whole place freaked me out. It was brimming with pain and suffering, the kind you knew never went away. If my control had been better at the time, I suppose it could have been a great place to feed on a regular basis, but I don’t think I can stomach that sort of thing. Replace that with an institution full of children? I shake my head and shiver.
“I know it’s not ideal,” Van says quietly, “but it may be the only way to wake it up.”
I don’t answer her. I can’t. Logic tells me it’s a good idea, but I still rebel against it. Sonya was taken early, but Ivy suffered before Isolde found her. Staring into the eyes of children like that, I don’t know if I can do it.
A gentle knock on the door pulls my gaze up to find Annabelle and Joshua slipping through. Her confusion is immediately evident. “Uh, did I somehow miss the discussion about a wedding going on tonight, or is this news to everyone?”
“What?”
“Whose wedding?” Van asks.
Annabelle glances down at Joshua before facing us again. “Apparently, Oscar and Emily’s. Oscar just texted me saying we all need to be in the courtyard in half an hour. Did he not text you guys, too?”
I silenced my phone before Van and I started our practice session and forgot about it. Reaching for where I left it on the desk, I see the notification light flashing and hesitate. An exclamation of shock from Van tells me exactly what I’m going to see, but I make myself pick up the phone anyway. A text from Oscar saying exactly what Annabelle just said stares back at me.
My first reaction is to think this is a joke, except, Oscar doesn’t joke, about anything. Then I think he must have lost his mind. Or Emily did. This is a ridiculous time to get married! What are they thinking?
While these thoughts are running through my mind, Van asks, “Are they expecting us to dress up? All I have here are jeans and workout clothes.”
I turn to stare at her in disbelief.
She shrugs. “What? We knew this was going to happen eventually. Why not now? Oscar’s doing amazingly well, and who knows what things will be like after. They want to get married tonight…I’m all for it. Now, get out so I can change clothes.”
Annabelle chuckles at her reaction and starts pulling me out of the room. Our room is only one door down, so it doesn’t take long to reach it. Once we’re inside and the door is closed, Annabelle pushes Joshua into my arms and starts pulling her tank top over her head. I can’t help admire how beautiful she is as she reaches for a shirt not covered in Joshua’s drool and slips it over her head.
When she comes back over to me, her lips pull down in a frown. “Are you really upset about Oscar and Emily getting married?”
“No,” I say, “it’s just…very sudden.”
“It’s not like that’s a new thing for Oscar,” she points out.
“Yeah, but…Emily…”
Annabelle kisses Joshua’s cheek then meets my gaze. “Emily has been alone since Oscar wa
s arrested. She stuck by him all this time, raising their child on her own, loving him regardless of his issues, and now they’re finally together. She deserves to be happy. They both do.”
“I know. It scares me, though.”
“Why?”
“How do you make those promises and commitments knowing what we’re about to face?”
“How do you not?” Annabelle asks. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. When she opens them, her expression is thoughtful and determined. “Maybe the promise to love and honor gets cut short by war, but that doesn’t make it any less true. If it were me, I would have said yes, too. Even knowing there’s a good chance till death do us part may come much sooner than I’d like. Asking, offering that sort of commitment, it means a lot. Especially to someone who’s either never had it or been deprived of it.”
Joshua lays his head against my chest and I snuggle him a little closer as I consider her words. “I guess I never thought of it like that.”
“I’m not saying you have to think the same,” Annabelle says with a soft smile. “I’m just explaining.”
Leaning over Joshua, I kiss her. “Thank you.”
She smiles and takes my hand. “Ready for an impromptu wedding?”
“I guess so.”
Annabelle chuckles and follows me out into the hall. I can’t remember how to get to the courtyard, but Annabelle seems to know and leads the way. Joshua is drooling over the fingers stuck in his mouth, sleeping comfortably against my chest. He’s oblivious to the fact that his parents are about to commit to being a whole family. I have my doubts about this being a legal marriage, given that Oscar’s wanted by the police, but the only rules that have ever mattered to Oscar were his own anyway. He won’t take it any less serious just because they don’t have a license.
Wicked Revenge Page 17
