Wicked Hunger

by DelSheree Gladden

Chapter Twenty-Six: Semidio

  (Vanessa)

  I try to tell Ketchup and Zander to follow the van, but neither of them listens to me. They both fall to the ground at my feet, flinging out questions.

  “I’m fine!” I shout at them. “You should have followed Ivy.”

  “You’re more important,” Zander says.

  Ketchup’s answering scowl gets my brother’s hackles up, but I’m sure Ketchup’s earlier words are still too fresh for him to argue. Zander sinks back to his shame while Ketchup tries to inspect my arm. His simple touch makes me yelp in pain.

  “Don’t touch it!” I snap at him.

  “Sorry. I just wanted to see how bad it is.”

  It’s bad, but I’ll live. “Let Zander take care of it, please. He knows what to do.”

  Put out, but not stupid, Ketchup folds his arms over his chest. His eagle eye is zeroed in on my brother. He watches as Zander gently wraps his hands around my forearm. The sudden jerk and crack sends a wave of nausea through me. Ketchup nearly loses it. Only my hand grabbing a fistful of shirt and holding him back stops him from punching Zander again.

  “He had to set the breaks,” I hiss though the pain.

  “Breaks?” Ketchup asks. “How many?”

  I wince as Zander manipulates another misplaced bone. “Three, at least.”

  “Four,” Zander corrects. “One of your fingers is broken.”

  Ketchup stops trying to glare my brother to death and turns all his focus on me. He shifts me gently so my head is lying in his lap. The soft stroke of his fingers on my skin leeches out the lingering pain. I sigh as my bones begin to stitch themselves back together. It still hurts like the dickens, but it is beginning to ebb. I let myself relax into Ketchup’s embrace just for a little while.

  “Dude, are you sucking up her pain, or whatever it is you do?” Ketchup accuses Zander, interrupting my quiet healing time.

  I open my eyes to see Zander still holding onto my arm, his eyes closed. He’s too absorbed to even answer Ketchup. When I see Ketchup’s mouth open to demand an answer, I say, “Leave him alone, Ketchup. It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt me at all for him to feed on my pain. Sometimes it’s the only way we can keep our hunger in check. After what he went through with Ivy, he’s got to be ravenous. Be glad he’s skimming off me and not you.”

  He shakes his head. “That’s sick.”

  “It’s what we are,” I say with a sigh.

  A few minutes later, my bones are back to normal. Zander can feel it as well and sits back. “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “I’m fine.”

  Well, as fine as can be. Ketchup helps me back to standing, catching me when I nearly topple over. Healing that many broken bones is no piece of cake. He tries to sweep me into his arms like my personal white knight, but that one I do manage to resist. He continues to hold me up, but I turn my attention back to my brother. “Call Grandma and tell her what happened. I already called her earlier today and gave her the basics, but you better let her know we’re all alive before she does something rash.”

  The look on Zander’s face is almost laughable. I don’t think I have ever seen him look so scared in his entire life. I have no sympathy for him at all. I motion for Ketchup to help me to the truck. He gets me there without complaint, but walking away isn’t as easy for him.

  “I’m fine, now. I promise. Just go home and get some sleep,” I beg.

  His head starts shaking. “Absolutely not. I’m coming with you.”

  “There is no way you’re riding in the car with Zander.” Ketchup tries to argue, but I put a stop to that right away. “Look, I know he’s tolerated you so far tonight, but what you saw him doing with my arm, it’s not a good sign for you. He’s very hungry right now.”

  “All the more reason for me not to leave you alone with him.”

  I want to argue with him about this, but I can see by the look in his eyes that I am not going to win. Sighing, I give up. “Fine, follow us in your car. And when we get to the house, stay as far away from Zander as possible. I mean it.”

  “Fine,” he says. Then he surprises me by darting in and stealing a kiss. It is so quick, but my heart rate spikes, turning my blood to champagne for a few precious seconds. His fingers slide away from me as he says, “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Zander stomps into the truck and yanks his door shut. The tension following him like a storm cloud is hard to miss. Something tells me this isn’t just about admitting to Grandma what happened tonight. He doesn’t make me pry it out of him.

  “We need to go. Grandma sounded… strange. She said there’s someone at the house that we need to meet.”

  “What did she mean by that?” I demand.

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know, but I doubt it’s good.”

  “I’ll meet you there,” Ketchup says before darting off to his car.

  The look I get from Zander threatens to be the start of a bitter fight. My whole body tightens to steel. “If you think you have any room to talk at this point, go ahead,” I dare him.

  Wisely, he doesn’t speak. All he does is start the truck and begin speeding home. Every mile we go sends another shot of dread through me. What if Ivy’s friends thought almost dying was close enough? What if they already have Grandma? We could be driving toward a trap, but what else are we going to do? Leave her there to suffer on her own? Of course not! The only comfort I can find as we drive is the unfailing presence of headlights in the rearview mirror.

  I swear it’s hours later before we pull into the driveway of our house. Zander and I glance over at each other when we spot a shiny black sedan parked alongside Grandma’s beat up old Volvo. Seems a little bold for Ivy’s type of crowd, but we really have no idea what they might do. The crunch of gravel behind us announces Ketchup’s arrival, and two seconds later he’s at my door. By now, I can hop down without his help, but that doesn’t stop me from grabbing his hand. I am trembling as we cautiously approach the front door.

  Halfway up the steps, Grandma appears at the door. “This isn’t a trap,” she says flatly. “I would hope my own grandchildren would have enough faith in me not to lead them to their deaths.”

  “We’re just being careful,” Zander says.

  Her answering look is scathing. “Well, it’s about time. I thought you’d forgotten the meaning of the word.”

  Not that I don’t agree with her, but my heart pangs to see Zander turn in on himself. He shuffles past her red, ashamed, broken. Grandma’s only reaction is to shove a little more steel down her spine. Her laser gaze turns to fasten on me. For a moment, I can’t move. I love my grandma dearly, but she’s the only person I’m truly scared of. I can’t make my feet work under her gaze. I don’t know why I would be in trouble tonight, but I’m sure there’s some reason. There usually is.

  So when Grandma’s lips start to tremble, and tears sneak past her control, I’m too stunned to react. She’s the one who has to come down the steps and swallow me up in a hug.

  “Are you okay?” she asks when she finally pulls back and brushes away her tears.

  “Yeah,” I say, still shocked. “I’m fine.”

  Grandma grabs my shoulders. “What were you thinking going off on your own like that?”

  “I wasn’t alone. I had Ketchup.” I know it’s a frail argument, but I appreciate how Ketchup’s hand tightens around mine in solidarity.

  Grandma’s mouth thins, but she doesn’t argue. “Get inside, Van. This night isn’t over yet.” She turns to Ketchup, I’m sure to send him packing.

  “Mrs. Roth,” Ketchup interrupts, “I’m not leaving.”

  It’s a bold statement to make to my grandma. She does not take comments like that from anyone. So when she simply nods and walks away, I’m stunned all over again. Ketchup has to tug me forward in order to get me moving. When we walk into the house and see a suit clad man standing in our living room, I get the feeling the surprises are only beginning.

&nbs
p; “Who are you?” Ketchup demands.

  Whoever he is, he glances over at Grandma at Ketchup’s outburst. “Is this a family member I wasn’t aware of?”

  “No, of course not. He’s a friend of Van’s.”

  The man looks back at Ketchup, his eyes hard. “Then he does not belong here.”

  I can feel Ketchup’s entire body bunch up in anger. “Ketchup isn’t going anywhere,” I blurt out before he can start a fight with whoever this guy is.

  “My business is with you and your siblings only.”

  “Well, he’s as much a part of this as we are. He already knows everything we know,” I argue.

  The man’s mouth twists into a smirk. “You know almost nothing, child.”

  Child? After what I’ve been through tonight, I’m ready to slap him for that little remark. I hold my temper for once in my life and ask, “If we know so little, then why don’t you enlighten us?”

  “I will, once your toy has been put away.”

  I expect Ketchup to take offense. I certainly do. All Ketchup does is chuckle, much to everyone’s surprise. “Toy?” he says mockingly. “You’re a real comedian, aren’t you?”

  The man bristles, but doesn’t respond.

  Ketchup smirks at his reaction. “Fine. You don’t want to give up your secrets in front of someone who helped stop that psycho, Ivy—not to mention someone who knows enough of your secrets to start drawing some interesting conclusions and has the ability to spread what I do know—then don’t.”

  I’m surprised when Ketchup’s hand releases mine. When he slings his backpack off his shoulder, I grab his arm in panic. I don’t know if he should do this. This guy may be worse than Ivy for all we know. But Ketchup ignores me and tosses the book we stole from Ivy’s garage on the coffee table. Nobody misses the way the man’s eyes light up hungrily.

  “As you can see,” Ketchup says, “we’re doing a pretty good job without your help.”

  The man reaches for the book, but Ketchup is quick to snatch it back up.

  “You have no idea what that is!” he shouts.

  “Maybe not,” I say, “but it’s obviously important to you. So either start explaining what you’re doing here, or you’ll never read a single word of it.”

  It takes some serious effort for the man to reel his emotions back in. When he does, Zander takes the lead. “Who are you? Are you one of the people who sent Ivy after us?”

  “Am I one of the Eroi?” the man scoffs. “Of course not. My name is David Vidor. I’m a Sicarius, just like you, though we don’t prefer that title.”

  Zander and I both turn to look at our grandma. She tries to hold her ground, but in the face of our anger and blatant proof of her lies, she looks away with shame-filled eyes.

  “Who are the Eroi?” I ask.

  David’s mouth screws up in hatred. “The Eroi are a group of fanatics whose main purpose in life is to destroy every last one of us. Eroi means hero, a self-appointed title, to be sure. They call us the Sicarius, the Assassins, because they believe all we are capable of is killing. We use a different name. We call ourselves the Semidio. Literally, it means demigods, but many of us in the U.S. prefer the term Godling. We feel it describes our hunger most accurately.”

  After seeing Zander tonight, I have to agree about the appropriateness of the term.

  Zander shows no opinion on either name, but asks, “Why did they come after us? How did they even know who we are, or where we were?”

  “They came after you because the Eroi’s only purpose is to rid the world of Godlings. The young woman, in particular, came after you because she, and others like her, are promised untold rewards in the afterlife in exchange for their lives.” David stares at Zander, his eyes cutting into him. “Their methods may not make logical sense to you, but logic has little to do with it. What would you be willing to do for eternal glory?”

  Nobody answers his question. We all continue to stare at him, distrusting and despising him. Zander repeats one of his earlier questions. “How did they find us?”

  “How the Eroi found you here, I don’t know, but now that they are aware of you, staying here is out of the question.”

  The whole room erupts at once. Grandma is furiously dressing down the man here to steal her grandchildren. Zander is refusing to leave Oscar behind, none too pleased with the idea of bowing to this cocky, arrogant jerk, either. My voice is thrown in as well, making sure everyone knows I have no intention of uprooting my entire life for some guy claiming to know everything.

  Ketchup is the only one not yelling. It takes me a few minutes to realize that, but when I do, my own voice drops out of the argument. I turn to look at him, trying to gauge what might be running through his head in that moment. When I can’t figure it out, I ask, “Ketchup?”

  I’m not sure how he hears me over the yelling, but he does. He glances down at me in response, a look of consternation on his features. “You’re not going to go, are you?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  He nods slowly. “But what if you have no choice?”

  “I… don’t know.”

  I can hear Grandma throwing out every argument she has, but I get the feeling nothing is going to be enough. In the midst of yelling and fighting, the weight of everything that has happened suddenly turns into an avalanche that buries me, buckling my knees and dropping me to the couch. I can feel Ketchup sit down beside me, but he’s only in my periphery. Too many other distractions are flying around in my head.

  This isn’t just about my family. Ivy wasn’t only here to uncover our secret. She was a trained sacrifice. A sacrifice who failed. What does that mean? Will her own people kill her for her failure? Will she be sent after some other innocent person trying to live a normal live? All my life I have wanted answers. I’ve wanted my curse to be explained, to be bigger than me. To mean something. I don’t want to leave my friends or my job, my life… but what if this is my only chance to find out what I really am? Who I am? I don’t know if I can pass that up.

  I look up, and discover Ketchup’s eyes waiting for me. As soon as we find each other, he sighs. “You’re going to go, aren’t you?”

  I want to have a different answer, but I say, “I think I have to.”

  “I don’t trust this guy,” he argues.

  “Neither do I, but what if he can teach me how to control my hunger?” My heart lurches as a thought occurs to me. “What if he can teach Zander?”

  That grabs Ketchup’s attention. I can feel his pulse speed up. It may be a false hope, or at the very most, a slim one, but it’s there. Ketchup latches onto it, his voice cutting through the raging argument and leaving only silence when he turns to David and demands, “Can you show them how to keep their hunger under control?”

  David’s red-faced irritation drains back to a smug expression. “Of course I can.”

  The words poised on Zander’s lips fall away.

  “I can teach you to control your hunger,” David promises. “I can teach you to control it, and turn it into a power you’ve only dreamed of.”

  Suddenly, Grandma looks white as a sheet, but Zander and I are both mesmerized by his promise. I have a hard time believing this curse is anything but evil, wicked in the truest sense of the word, but his promise is so hard to resist. Wicked hunger turned into wicked power. I am positive this man is no more trustworthy than Ivy was, but if he can give me back what I’ve lost to this curse, if he can make up for years of being ridiculed and hated, if he can give me back Oscar, and Ketchup… I’ll go wherever he tells me to go.

  THE END

  Of Book One

  Check out a Sneak Peek of Book 2: Wicked Power