Wicked Revenge

by Gladden, DelSheree

  I open one eye as he crosses behind me. Maybe if I’m fast enough…

  “Focus, Van. This is never going to work if you’re more concerned with what I’m doing than with moving your power.”

  Gritting my teeth, I try to keep my mouth shut. It doesn’t work. “Maybe if I didn’t have good reason for feeling like I need to watch you every second, I’d be able to focus.”

  “Distractions…”

  “It’s not like this is going to work, anyway,” I snap. Tired of his annoying tone and lecturing attitude, I give up. He doesn’t say a word as I push to my feet and stomp away from Zander. Chris walks over to me calmly. He looks as though he’s about to say something, but I’m done listening to him for today. Shoving my foot back into my sneaker, I glare up at him. “You think you’re so great, the best Godling trainer there ever was. Why can’t you just admit you have no idea what’s going on with me, or how to teach Zander to do the same thing? Stop wasting everyone’s time and admit you aren’t as amazing as you think you are.”

  A sigh comes from across the room where Zander is still sitting on the rug. “Van…” There’s no heat behind his words, though, just a little bit of pleading. It’s not enough to keep me here.

  “Make someone else your guinea pig,” I say to Chris as I turn away from him and my brother.

  I only get halfway through my turn before his fingers cinch around my arm. “I have no problem admitting that you and your siblings are anomalies,” Chris says. “I am not the best, and have never claimed to be. I’m just trying to help you both.”

  “Oh, like you helped me become David’s pet?” The last word snaps off my tongue, loud in the half-empty room.

  “I was trying to protect you,” he barks, emotion finally breaking through his calm façade.

  Ripping my arm away from him with so much force it knocks him off balance, I can practically feel heat sizzling off my skin as my anger threatens to explode. “Protect me? Really?” My hands ball into fists. I am half a second away from punching him in the face. “You protected me right into his hands. Everything you taught me just made me into a better assassin for him!”

  He doesn’t try to grab me again, but the hurt and anger mixing in his eyes is enough to keep me from bailing just yet. “Everything I taught you,” he says through his teeth, “kept you from breaking when David finally got his way.”

  “Oh yeah?” My voice breaks. Tears burn the backs of my eyes. I hold my arms out from my body, one shoelace still untied. “Is it that hard to see the cracks? Your hunger can’t feel the pain that lives inside me now? Can’t you taste the death dripping off every part of me?”

  My arms fall and I just stand there.

  “Yes, I see the cracks,” Chris says, “but cracks can be repaired. I feel the pain you carry, and I accept responsibility for a portion of that. Death clings to you, yes, but you’re too young to taste the differences between death brought on by hatred and evil, or that born from necessity. Yes, I can taste the death your hunger caused, but I know you didn’t revel in what you had to do. You were protecting your family and friends from the people who wanted to kill them. No matter how David manipulated the situation, you were willing to sacrifice for them. That’s what I see.”

  His words tear through me. I feel as if there’s barely anything left of me, a blanket full of holes in the face of biting cold. What he said deserves a response, questions at the least, but I turn away and rush for the door. My hand grips the doorknob, but his voice stops me once again.

  “Down the hall, send door on the right, your next trainer will be waiting for you.”

  Yanking the door open, I slam it closed behind me. The last thing I want to do is follow Chris’s orders. Hunger boils inside me, and I know I need help. I need someone to tell me how to deal with the nightmares and guilt before I lose my mind. My feet make the decision for me, carrying me down the hall to the door Chris mentioned. I stare at it, unwilling to even touch it.

  It’s not until the sounds of laughter finally make their way to my ears that my hunger begins to die down. Listening, I realize, it’s not just laughter, but little kids giggling. Sure, there were kids at the compound. I know there are Godling children. Not ones that run around laughing and being silly, though. All the kids I saw while training were focused, serious, dedicated. It was a little creepy, to be perfectly honest. This…is something unexpected.

  Slowly, I wrap my fingers around doorknob. Twisting it takes concentration and will power. My heart jumps at the click of the catch disengaging. Not entirely sure why I’m so scared to open the door, I hesitate. A shrill scream jolts something in me and I pull the door open, scared something has happened to stop the laughter.

  Instead of being hit by pain, I’m startled to find two children wrestling and giggling on the floor. They look to be around five and seven years old, and are clearly Godling judging by the way they move so gracefully. The younger one is out of her brother’s hold in the blink of an eye and goes back to screaming as she runs faster than any normal kindergartener could manage. The older boy launches himself after her, grinning as he goes.

  I didn’t realize there was anyone else in the room, and jump when a tall blonde woman steps over to me. “I hope they aren’t interrupting anyone. They’ve been in the car for two days and have a lot of energy to expend.”

  Shaking my head, I try to figure out what that means. All of the Godlings were transported away from the compound a few hours after David’s death. They’re all here now, but the days between were spent in safe houses around town. Where did this woman and her kids come from?

  “I’m assuming you must be Vanessa, and that you’re here for a lesson, right?” She smiles at me, and I think it’s the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen on a person.

  “Uh, yeah.” I study her a moment longer, as though she’s a puzzle whose picture is unclear. “How’d you know? The hair?”

  Laughing, the woman grins. “It’s kind of a giveaway, isn’t it?” She reaches out to touch it and, for some reason, I don’t shy away like I normally would. A strand of my hair slips through her fingers. “It’s beautiful,” she says, “pure white. A mark.”

  Her words freeze me inside and out. “What did you just say?”

  Seeming unbothered by my harsh tone, she meets my gaze. “Your hair, it’s a mark to identify you. It makes you unique.” She smiles again. “I think it’s gorgeous.”

  I can’t decide if that’s really all she meant by her comment. She’s so real, or at least she appears that way. I can feel her hunger quietly tucked away at her core, so I know she’s a Godling and immediately want to distrust her. It’s just so hard. Her emotions drift calmly around her, no hint of dishonesty at all, which is certainly unique. Holding off judgment for now, I ease my stance and try to be less hostile.

  “My brothers, they have the same white hair.” I don’t know why I say it. Something pushes me to confide in her. Instincts. Prescience. I don’t know. I can’t stop myself from talking. “My nephew, too.”

  The woman frowns, considering. “I haven’t met them yet, but there is something about yours…hard to put my finger on it.” She taps her finger against her chin. “Maybe after I meet the others I’ll be able to figure it out.”

  Figure what out? Does she know about the mark? The one mentioned in the Eroi notes? But I haven’t shown those to anyone. Not even Ketchup. I told Zander and Oscar the basics of what they said, including the mention of the mark, but I can’t bear the idea of showing them to anyone. They’re the proof of what I did. I don’t know how she would know about the mark, because I don’t think the Godlings know anything about a special mark. Why else would she choose that exact word?

  “I’m sorry, I never introduced myself. I’m Caterina. Everyone calls me Cat, though.” She extends her hand, and I watch myself take it.

  “Mom! Mom!” the older of the children call out. “Is it time to start yet? Is this the girl?”

  Cat chuckles. “The girl is Vanessa, and yes to both
questions. Can you get your sister and tell her we’re ready?” She shakes her head. “Those two are Verity and Gyan. They’ll be practicing with us.”

  She doesn’t ask if I’m okay with that, as though she already knows I don’t mind their happy company. “Their names,” I say, “they mean truth and knowledge.”

  A little startled, Cat nods. “Yes. I’m surprised you know them both. Verity isn’t that uncommon, but Gyan, most people don’t know what it means.”

  “I’ve been avoiding training the last few days and needed something to keep my mind occupied.”

  Cat regards me curiously. “The study of names?”

  “It’s because of…Ivy.” When Cat doesn’t seem to understand, once again I find myself telling her more than I normally would. “My brother Oscar, he knew Ivy Guerra was bad news, he said it was because her name meant vines and war. I know it wasn’t the only reason he warned us to stop her, but it stuck with me, I guess. Names are important sometimes.”

  A slow, pleased smile spreads across Cat’s face. “Yes, they are.” She reaches out and squeezes my shoulder lightly. “Are you ready to get started?”

  I nod that I am, but realize I have no idea what I’m agreeing to. “What exactly are we going to do?”

  “Oh,” Cats says, “I thought you knew. Sorry. We’ll be practicing Tai Chi today. Have you ever done it before?”

  For the first time since speaking to Cat, I balk. “Is that some kind of martial arts?” The idea of fighting, of possibly hurting anyone, makes my stomach twist.

  “Technically, yes, but probably not quite the same as what David had you doing. Tai Chi is mainly for defense and healing. The movements are slow and purposeful,” she explains. Assessing my clothing, she frowns at my jeans and lightweight hoodie. It’s been my standard look since David’s little field trip. Cat nods. “We’re mainly going over the basics today, so this will be fine, but next time wear some of you dance clothes so you’ll be more comfortable, okay?”

  “Sure,” I say, trying not to flinch at the word dance. I gave my boss the excuse that my grandma’s poor health was keeping me from work this week. The truth is, I can’t think of dancing without thinking of David and the night he let me dance with no barriers and no criticism. When I think of that night, I almost miss him, which makes me sick to my stomach. I hated him with a passion, but there were parts of his training that did exactly what he promised. They showed me who I was and what I could really do.

  Unaware of my internal conflict, Cat gestures for me to follow her to where her children are already in place. Neither one is wearing shoes, so I slip mine off as well. Cat directs me to stand between the children. I do as she asks, feeling like a giant next to their minimal height. I wonder, for a moment, if the kids are joining us because the other Godlings were too busy to join us, or if there’s another reason. Godlings aren’t exactly welcoming to outsiders, and this trio didn’t live at the compound for some reason.

  “I know you’ve probably done lots of meditation exercises as part of your training, but T'ai chi ch'uan combines movement, breathing, and focus to center the body and mind while strengthening both. As Godlings, we also incorporate moving our power as well,” Cat says. “We’re going to start with some basic moves I think might help some of the turmoil you’re experiencing right now.”

  I freeze for just a moment, wondering if the way I’m acting gives it away, or if she has some kind of gift like Annabelle’s that’s clued her in. It’s unsettling, either way, but Cat moves on without pausing.

  “First, what I’ll have you do is bring your feet together and hold your hands in front of you like they’re resting on a table.” She pauses and watches me move into position. The two children next to me do it flawlessly, but I feel awkward in a relaxed stance rather than one meant to prepare me for a fight. Cat nods when I’m ready and continues.

  “Now, step forward with your left foot at a slight angle from your body, with only the heel touching right now. Lift your hands higher to the level of your chest.” She checks my position again and nods. “Now extend your hands forward, away from your body in a circular motion as you shift your weight forward, bringing your toes to the floor for stability…now rock back to the starting position. As you get more comfortable with the patterns, you’ll push and pull your power as you work through the motion, too.”

  I complete the movement five times on each side, feeling stuck somewhere between ballet and Jeet Kune Do, and not knowing how I feel about this method. My power certainly doesn’t seem interested in getting involved. Part of me is itching to get back to sparring, to burn off hunger and frustration alike, but I fear even stepping into a gym. The focus and precision of ballet feels maddening as well. I don’t think I can stand barre work without losing my cool. So much is pent up inside me, but with nowhere to go but deeper down to where I shove everything unpleasant.

  “Verity, can you tell Vanessa what we just did?” Cat asks.

  Verity is more than happy to share her knowledge. “Calming the Water. It makes your legs strong and helps you breathe right.”

  Nodding, Cat refocuses and begins a new form. “Come back to the original starting position, but this time we’ll turn our hands to the side.” Cat demonstrates, her hands looking as though they’re ready shove something away. Instead, her movements are slow and calm. “Bring your leg out to the side, and we’re going to repeat the rocking motion while pushing your hands in the direction of your extended leg. Then rock back to starting.”

  She has us do the form several times on both sides before pausing again. “Gyan, please tell us about this pattern.”

  Straightening, Gyan says, “This one’s called Pushing the Water. It’s for legs, too, and if you do it right it makes your core muscles stronger.”

  “Thank you, Gyan.”

  For another half hour, we repeat this process. Cat leads us through a new pattern, one of her children explains the name and benefit, and we move on. I’m amazed they work through the whole exercise without whining or getting distracted. Clearly they’ve both been doing this for a while, but even younger dancers I’ve been teaching for several years can’t maintain this level of focus. Cat’s calm patience probably has something to do with their behavior, but both children are clearly dedicated to their art. I don’t realize until we’re almost finished that their young hunger stays under perfect control the entire time while mine struggles to stay corralled.

  Bringing us to the end of the session, Cat releases the children to go back to playing and walks toward me. “What did you think?”

  “I don’t know,” I say honestly. “It’s different than what I’m used to, but your kids did so well with it, and their hunger really responded.”

  “You seemed to have a hard time settling into the flow.” She doesn’t say it as criticism, but more as an observation. “Can you tell me why you felt that way?”

  Shrugging, I struggle to put my thoughts and feelings into words. “It’s just that it’s not one thing or another, I guess. Not fighting, not meditation, not dancing, not something I can wrap my head around. When I dance, it requires all my focus and a lot of precise movements. With fighting, there’s speed and direction and a goal. I don’t really get this.”

  Cat nods as though she understands exactly what I’m talking about, but I’m not sure she does. As if she also understands that, she smiles and calls her children back over. “Let’s show Vanessa what else we can do with Tai Chi. Can you please demonstrate, beginning with Grasping the Sparrows Tail.”

  Both nod and run through a pattern of movements that rotates the trunk while the hands pass each other vertically then rotate back to front before ending in a pressing movement. They are perfectly synchronized and look to their mother after finishing the form.

  “Thank you. Now The Maiden Works the Shuttles, please.”

  Another set of nods and they begin. This form is more active, requiring the children to bring their knees up and in as their arms move to their chest. From there
they step out and bring their hands up near their heads, facing outward.

  “Beautifully done,” Cat praises. “Now, Gyan, you are the defender, Verity you the attacker.” She waits for them to face each other rather than her, and then says, “Begin.”

  I am surprised when Verity throws a very real punch at her brother’s face and he combines both patterns to block not only her first punch, but the second which follows quickly behind, and then a third while using his free hand to shove her back. Movements in the patterns that look purely decorative work beautifully to defend against an attack.

  Cat smiles at the surprise clear in my expression. “Tai Chi can be practiced solely for the meditative and health benefits, but we are Godlings. Everything I teach you will help you learn to calm your mind, body, and power, but also protect yourself. Like other martial arts, or dance, you must start at the beginning. Yes, this is a different speed and style than you’re used to, but I hope you’ll continue to let me teach you. I think it can help a great deal with the emotional challenges you’re dealing with right now.”

  “What do you know about that?” I ask, an edge to my voice I didn’t mean to let slip through.

  Sorrow draws her mouth downward. “I know what it feels like to train with David. To respect him and hate him, to lose him suddenly. I also know what it’s like to lose a loved one and to have no control over what’s happening to them. I know as well the burden of making choices and sacrifices to protect the people you love, but not always knowing if you’ve made the right choice. I know what it feels like to be betrayed by people you trust, as well. No one of those things is easy to deal with. Taking them all on at once, anyone would need a little help to control not only their hunger, but the emotional upheaval threatening to break them.”

  “You think you can do that for me?”

  “I’ve done it for myself, my children, and Chris,” she says.