Wicked Hunger (Someone Wicked This Way Comes)

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Wicked Hunger (Someone Wicked This Way Comes) Page 13

by DelSheree Gladden


  “You must live close by,” Ivy says, “I thought I was going to beat you here.”

  “I’m only about a mile away.” I stand up and tighten my hand on my backpack strap when she takes a step toward me. This was such a bad idea.

  “So, where do you want to sit?” Ivy asks.

  I glance around the park, looking for somewhere with people, lots of people. Crowds always pose the danger of containing someone my hunger will want, but I feel confident that no one will be as big of a lure as Ivy. I spot a cluster of benches near the pavilion in the center of the park. I gesture toward it, making Ivy raise an eyebrow at me.

  “Are you sure the noise won’t bother you?” she asks, looking at the band performing in the pavilion.

  “No, it’ll be fine. I usually listen to music when I do homework anyway.”

  Ivy shrugs and turns toward the sultry salsa beat. She isn’t actually dancing, but I swear her hips roll in time with the music. She’s a good ten feet away from me when she turns back to find me staring at her. A smirk that hints she knows exactly what I was staring at lights her features. A blush threatens to spread over mine, but I force it away. Doing my best to ignore my embarrassment, I hurry to catch up with her. My hunger growls and roils inside of me, worsening with each step, but as I get closer to her I can smell her perfume and see the details of her face more clearly. Opposite desires slam into each other and keep them in a precarious balance.

  The picnic tables appear in front of us just in time. I swerve to the opposite side and sit down. Ivy doesn’t say anything about my choice of seating, sitting down across from me with a neutral expression. It isn’t nearly far enough away, but I focus on my feelings for her and hope they prove stronger than my hunger. “Okay,” she says, “what are you having trouble with?”

  That’s a pretty long list. Ivy only wants to know about the math, though. Opening my book and turning it so we can both see, I point at one of the problems I got stuck on last night. “I’m not sure what I did wrong here. I thought I followed all the steps, but I keep messing up.”

  Ivy’s finger touches down next to the problem, and I yank my finger back quickly. I can see the muscles in her arm tense momentarily before relaxing. “Show me what you did, and I’ll tell you where you went wrong.”

  “Alright.” I grab my notebook out of my bag and hand it over to her. She spends a few minutes going over my work before spinning the notebook back around so I can see. Going through the problem, she shows me what I did, and what I should have done. I try really hard to pay attention to everything she says. If her finger wasn’t so distracting, it would be a lot easier. Thoughts about math keep getting interrupted by thoughts of how easy it would be to crush the delicate bone in her pointer finger, or my mind wondering how it would feel to have that same finger run over my skin.

  “This is why you’re having such a hard time with math,” Ivy says, her voice suddenly much too close to me.

  My eyes flit up and widen when they come right up to hers, less than a foot away. She’s leaning forward over the table with one hand raised as if she was trying to get my attention. “What?” I ask as I lean back from her.

  “You’re not paying any attention to what I’m saying. You’re never going to figure it out if you don’t listen.” There is an odd mix of annoyance and amusement in her expression. It scrunches her nose and makes her look even more irresistible than usual. Only knowing that if I actually touched her it wouldn’t be the soft caress I want it to be keeps me from reaching out to her.

  “Sorry, I got distracted.”

  Her lips twist up into a teasing smile. “By what?”

  “By…” I can’t think of anything to say that won’t embarrass me. Opting for a diversion, I say, “Maybe if you explain it again, I’ll understand.”

  The way Ivy’s eyes narrow slightly tells me she knows I’m dodging her question, but the smile still lingering on her lips softens the accusation. She shakes her head and looks back down at the book for a moment before looking back up at me. “Okay, I’ll try again, but…”

  Rather than finishing her sentence, she stands up and walks around the table. Even though I want more than anything to be near her, I panic. Ivy stops a few feet away from me.

  “Do you mind?” she asks. “I flunked reading upside down in grade school.”

  Yes, I mind. Go back to your own side! Whatever you do, don’t sit down next to me. “Sure, go ahead,” I hear myself say.

  Ivy smiles and starts to sit down. It isn’t until she is right next to me that I see how quickly she’s breathing, how her fingers are shaking. No part of her is touching me, but the pure delicacy that she is spreads out around her and sinks into my pores. My hands ball into fists as I curse my disobedient mouth for telling her she could sit down. Without looking at me, Ivy starts explaining the problem again. I focus every spec of my mental power on her words. I’m so focused on figuring out the steps that there is very little room for anything else. Slowly, torturously, I tamp my hunger down enough that I can somewhat focus on the numbers in front of me.

  “Now take the reciprocal, and…” Ivy says a long while later.

  I look at the fraction and wait for the rest of her instruction. Several seconds of silence pass before I risk looking over at her. It makes me smile to see her head bobbing lightly and her fingers tapping a slow beat on the tabletop. Her lips are moving ever so slightly, mouthing the lyrics of the song playing in the background.

  “Now who’s the one getting distracted?”

  Ivy jumps in surprise. When she looks over at me, she laughs easily. “Sorry. I love this song.”

  I look over my shoulder at the trio on stage. Young, dressed in casual jeans and t-shirts, with instruments that look far from new, they belt out the lyrics with passion. “You know this group?”

  “No, but I know the song. It’s by one of my favorite bands.”

  Listening, I realize this song is nothing like the energetic music that was playing when we first got here. I’m not sure if this band has rather eclectic tastes, or I didn’t notice the bands switching. The slow beat flows through the air, its mellow lyrics settling around me. I feel some of the tension from holding back my hunger dissipate from my shoulders. It’s not much, but it helps.

  “You like it?” Ivy asks.

  I nod, too wrapped up in the song to really answer.

  “Wanna take a break?” she asks.

  I nod again and say, “A break sounds good.”

  Ivy stands up first and waits for me to join her. We leave the table and calculus behind and walk over to the pavilion. There isn’t a huge crowd, but there are at least thirty people seated randomly around the grass in front of the band. As I edge closer, I keep my senses keen for anyone who will spike my hunger. There is a faint pull from one of the distant listeners, but they aren’t close enough to be a real problem.

  Needing the buffer of warm bodies around me, I wander into the center of the group and sit down. Ivy sits down next to me, closer than she was at the table. I want to stay near her, but I scurry to the side, needing relief from her presence more than anything else.

  A few feet apart, her nearness is dulled enough by the others that it doesn’t show in my body language, but not enough that I’m not still fighting off urges to see her writhing in pain. My fingers dig into the soft grass in an effort to keep them from doing something they shouldn’t. I look over at Ivy to gauge her reaction to me moving away. She’s already looking at me, smiling softly. Her gaze only stays for a few seconds before turning back to the band. The way her smile electrifies my skin lasts a lot longer.

  We listen to song after song, not touching, not speaking. A few are more upbeat than the first, but most carry the soothing tempo that tone down my hunger. I quickly decide that I need very much to download this band’s albums and have them with me as often as possible. I’m wondering if I can download it on my phone before I have to make good on my promise of dinner when I feel Ivy move.

  It isn’t jus
t her body moving closer, but her energy. Like the taste of her on my tongue, I swear I can feel the energy of her life force when she gets near me. It is a strange experience, one I’ve never had before. Suddenly, her energy tilts toward me as Ivy’s head touches lightly against my shoulder. It comes on too quickly for me to jump out of the way. It seeps into me, stealing my breath, and latching onto my hunger more intensely than ever before.

  My hunger drinks her in and begs for more as my head is furiously screaming at me to get away from her. I can’t respond to either for a moment. I am paralyzed by having so much of her at once. My fingers pull free of the grass, fully intent on finding her body and causing the most exquisite damage possible.

  My hand brushes against her shoulder as it seeks out her neck. My vision dims as my hunger begins to take over. A few more inches, and her breath will be cut off. The decent into suffocation will inspire fear, fear that will escalate and spike as the pain begins. My breathing becomes fast and heavy in anticipation.

  The sharp piercing bark of a loose dog breaks through my focus only a brief second before it barrels right across mine and Ivy’s legs, its tail slapping me in the face as it passes. As if waking up from a nightmare, I suck in a panicked breath and scramble away from Ivy. My chest constricts at the thought of what I almost did. My whole body is quivering as I stare back at her.

  The sadness and frustration in her eyes eats at me, but there is no way I can get that close to her again. Forcing myself to pretend my calm has returned, I settle back on the grass several feet away from her and turn my full attention back to the band. Seconds, minutes pass without a word spoken between us.

  Slowly, my hunger fades back to a manageable level. I think my fear of hurting her is mainly responsible for that, because my desire to hurt her hasn’t changed in the least. I don’t know how long it takes before I feel in control enough to partially relax. That’s when my promise to answer a question creeps back into my mind. As we sit on the grass and listen to a cover band play Ivy’s favorite songs, fear settles into my mind. I have no idea what she will ask me. What I do know, though, is that I am quickly losing my will to resist giving her any answer she wants.

  “So, dinner?” I say as we approach our cars, several paces away from each other after learning my lesson earlier.

  “Dinner sounds great. Where do you want to go?” Ivy leans against her car, and the slowly fading sunlight falls over her face and shoulders. The pink and orange of a desert sunset warms her skin tone, making her look flushed and happy despite her earlier frustration.

  “How about the Artichoke Café?” It’s a nice restaurant, and a busy one, thankfully. I don’t do secluded booths that are dim and romantic. Actually, I don’t usually do restaurants at all because it’s too risky.

  “Where is that?” Ivy asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it before.”

  “It’s in Downtown, on Central.”

  Ivy frowns and looks down at her keys. “Do you want to just ride over together? I’m not very familiar with Albuquerque yet and I get lost easily, especially Downtown with all the one-way streets.”

  If she sits next to me in the truck, there will be at least two or three feet between us. It’s a big truck. I’ll keep both hands on the wheel to make sure there’s no chance I’ll accidentally touch her. I’m getting even more tired as the day goes on, thanks to this morning. We’ll be in an enclosed space together, but it’s still warm enough that I can turn on the air conditioner to keep her scent from filling up the cab too much. The safer suggestion that she just follow me is on my lips, but her vulnerability puts me over the edge.

  “Yeah, sure. We can ride together. I’ll bring you back here to get your car after.”

  “Thanks,” Ivy says with relief.

  I open the door for her when we reach the truck, but resist helping her step up to the seat, and keep my distance. When I close the door on her, I take several long deep breaths as I walk around to my side. I have to hold my breath until I turn the truck on and cool air blasts out of the vents.

  As we drive, I try to fill in the huge gaps of things I don’t know about Ivy. Talking helps distract me a little. I ask her about living in California, moving to New Mexico, and even why they moved. For some reason Van had thought it very suspicious that Ivy’s family moved in the middle of the semester rather than during summer. Turns out, Ivy’s dad was slotted to take over the New Mexico office of the financial firm he works for. The guy he was replacing didn’t retire until two weeks ago. I shake my head at Van’s ridiculous obsession when I hear that.

  We walk into the restaurant talking about what Ivy misses about her old home. Pausing long enough to tell the hostess we want a table rather than a booth, Ivy tells me about how she was learning to surf before she moved as we walk through the restaurant.

  We are led to a two person table in the center of the dining room. I smile at the hostess’s choice. It’s perfect. There’s no chance of Ivy sitting next to me, and we’re surrounded by hungry patrons, none of which immediately sets off my hunger. I take my seat, gauging the level of hunger being this close inspires. My shoulders relax when I realize it is manageable enough to bear for a while.

  “So, how did Van’s study date with Noah go?” Ivy asks.

  Shaking my head, I say, “Wouldn’t know. She didn’t even tell me she was going out with him. There was a note on the kitchen table when I got home.”

  “A note? Who leaves notes anymore? Why didn’t she just text you?”

  “I don’t think she wanted me to know. The note was for my grandma.” Thinking about the note irritates me all over again. I can’t keep it out of my voice when I speak again. “They weren’t even studying. They went to the gym, for some reason.”

  “Oh,” Ivy says, “they were studying. They had to go to the gym to get started on their project.”

  “Why? What was their topic?”

  “They have to do a battle scene. Noah does some kind of martial arts. I can’t remember which one, but he was going to teach some to Van so they could decide whether they wanted to use it in their scene.” Ivy looks pleased to have been able to defend Van, until the heat of my emotions leaks into my expression. Her eyebrows rise in surprise. “Zander, what’s wrong?”

  “Van is doing martial arts with Noah?” I ask through my teeth.

  Ivy shrinks back against her chair. “Um, yeah. Is that bad?”

  “It…” I close my eyes and suppress my anger and fear as much as possible. “It could be.”

  What on earth was Van thinking? Not only are we both forbidden from trying any kind of combat training, but all it’s going to do is make her hunger worse! One minute she’s spouting off about Ivy being some kind of threat, the next she’s running off and putting herself in the worst possible situation.

  I push back my chair and storm away from the table, pulling out my cell phone as I go. I have no idea what time she left with Noah. All I know is that she was gone when I got home around three o’clock. Knowing this may get heated, I push through the doors of the restaurant and walk outside. The only hope I have as I dial Van is that if something bad had already happened, my grandma would have called me. The ringing of the phone cuts off sharply, followed by the sound of Van’s guilty voice.

  “Hey, Zander,” she says slowly. “What’s going on?”

  “Tell me nothing happened to Noah! Tell me right now, Van, that you didn’t just ruin everything for us!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Martial arts?” I snap. “Are you freaking kidding me? You know how dangerous that is! What the hell were you thinking?”

  “How do you know what I did today?” Van asks quietly.

  I falter for a moment before continuing my tirade. “Who cares? What happened today? Is Noah okay? What exactly did you two do this afternoon?”

  “Nothing happened!”

  “Don’t lie to me, Van!” I warn.

  Her growl races through the phone and snaps at me viciously. “I’m n
ot lying. Nothing happened!”

  “I don’t believe that. He was teaching you to fight and nothing happened? You really expect me to believe that?” How could she have been so stupid? That was way too big of a risk to take!

  “You know, you don’t know everything, Zander,” Van argues. “You don’t know what I’m capable of, either! You think your way is the only way. You laugh at me and think I’m an idiot for having friends and trying to live a normal life. You think I’ll hurt them because I won’t be able to control myself. You don’t know anything about me if you think I’d ever hurt one of my friends!”

  A sob breaks through her yelling. “I’m stronger than you think, Zander, and I’m not stupid. I didn’t let things with Noah get out of hand. I paced myself. I was smart about what I let him teach me. Maybe you can’t handle it, but I can have friends and this stupid curse at the same time. I’ve already given up one guy I love for you. Don’t ask me to do it again.”

  She sniffs again, and I know she must be crying. “Please don’t ask me to do that. I just want to be happy for once, Zander. Can’t you understand that?”

  I rub my hand over my face and sigh. Most of my anger fell away when I heard my baby sister sob the first time. Right now, all I feel is regret, regret for yelling at her, regret for stomping on her hopes and happiness so often.

  “Yeah,” I say softly, “I can understand that.”

  I do want Van to be happy. I’ve just always wanted her to be safe even more. Before today, I never saw the value of giving up safety for the warmth of friends and love. It was always a second-class dream. There’s been so much more pain than anything else in my life lately. I guess I just forgot what it was like to care about someone and have them care in return. I wouldn’t have traded my afternoon with Ivy for anything.

 

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