Wicked Revenge

by Gladden, DelSheree

  “I think Godlings were meant to help people, not hurt them,” Emily says.

  “You don’t know many Godlings,” I counter.

  She rolls her eyes. “I know you and Joshua, and your siblings. That’s plenty.” Kissing my lips this time, I cup my hand behind her neck when she does and continue to kiss her until Joshua squirms. Emily runs her finger down the bridge of his nose until he quiets again.

  “What else?” I ask. “You said I said a lot. What else did I say?”

  Lying her head on the pillow next to mine, Emily snuggles so close her breath brushes against my neck every time she exhales. “Why did Van make growing up so much better for you?”

  “She kept me saner longer.”

  Emily’s breaths pause for a moment before continuing. “How so?”

  “I haven’t figured that out yet,” I admit, though I don’t like not knowing, understanding things. “You keep my thoughts together and make the missing pieces feel smaller, but not in the same way. Wanting to be good for you, for Joshua, it forces me to focus, and it makes me happy to be with you both. Being happy keeps my mind calmer. With Van…she does it without knowing. Something innate.”

  “Another gift?” Emily asks.

  I shake my head, then stop. “Chris said we only get one. One gift. He could be wrong. He’s been wrong. More than once. He was wrong to lie to Van and hurt her, let her kill those men. He said only one, but maybe you’re right and not him. Van is special.”

  “She is,” Emily says.

  For a long time, it’s quiet. I like the quiet, but not when there’s more that needs to be said. “What else?”

  It makes me worry when Emily hesitates. Hesitation means she’s scared, nervous, worried. Why? I don’t like her to feel that way. Happy. I want her to be happy when we’re together. Just happy.

  “What you said about Joshua being safe because we’re together again and you can keep him healthy when his hunger manifests,” she says more quickly than she needs to, “does that mean…you said more kids weren’t necessary. Is that…what you want? I mean, I know you didn’t want kids at all when we first started dating. Joshua wasn’t planned. You were so happy, though, when I told you, and I wondered…”

  She stops talking and I let her words sink in. I understand what she’s asking, even though her words were confused like mine often are, rambling. It’s not something I’ve ever allowed myself to think about. Didn’t think it would matter, I’d have a chance to consider it. Getting back to Emily and Joshua was all I could focus on. Anything else was…fantasy. Being with them was almost fantasy, just barely real enough to keep me from falling off the thin ledge of sanity.

  Things are still not settled, not perfect, unsure. But we’re together. That is hopeful.

  “If I can fix the missing pieces…I want more.”

  “More children?” Emily asks, shock in her voice that is not surprising given what I used to say before.

  “Only with you, though,” I explain. “More pure, beautiful souls like Joshua. He gives me hope. Hope is good for everyone, but me especially. It mends holes left when the missing pieces were torn away. And because I love him. Loving mends missing pieces too, I think. I’m not sure, but it must be true.”

  Emily’s body relaxes against mine. It’s a good feeling. I don’t like feeling tension in her. Pulling her closer, I breathe in the scent of her hair. Vanilla and baby shampoo. She smiles and closes her eyes. “Does Van mend the missing pieces too, or is it more like what Annabelle does?”

  It’s strange to me that I haven’t considered her question before now. I should have. Now that I think about it, discovering the answer consumes me. Emily waits patiently as I recall my time around Annabelle, her innate ability to calm and focus emotions. I’ve only been able to test it a few times, but it’s enough. With Van, I have our whole childhoods to consider and compare. Being with her more recently shows me even more.

  “It’s not like Annabelle,” I tell her after a long while. “Van is more permanent, progression, at least. Making it a little better each time.”

  Joshua makes sucking noises in his sleep. I smile at the sound. Emily is not distracted.

  “What do you think that means?” she asks. “About Van?”

  Even after having thought about it now, I have no answer. Van is a difficult puzzle to unravel, and I wonder if anyone can do it but her.

  Chapter Fourteen: Familiar

  (Zander)

  I find it ironic that Chris is having such a hard time trusting Noah when he played essentially the role for most of his adult life. Double agent, meet double agent. Even when Van first told me what she’d discovered about Noah, I’d had a hard time doubting his devotion to her. I know if there had ever been a chance to love her romantically, he would have jumped at it. Loving her as a friend sits pretty well with him, surprisingly. When it came down to me standing up to Chris to allow him into the school right after we got settled here, it wasn’t a difficult choice to make.

  Chris hasn’t been having as easy of a time. “How can you be sure this isn’t opening us up to them?” he demands, again.

  Unsure of whether he’s asking me or Noah, I hold off replying. Noah jumps in, though he looks irritated to have to explain himself…again. “Because I know what I’m doing.”

  I guess he isn’t really going to explain after all. When Chris opens his mouth to argue again, I eye him with a severe expression and glance in Van’s direction. The two of them still haven’t made amends, but there’s been improvement. He knows as well as I do that harping on her friend when he’s trying to help us find Isolde won’t work in his favor. He scowls, but shuts up.

  “What makes you think Isolde will reach out to your group?” Van asks. “You said before that you guys are all separate cells.”

  Her word choice makes them sound like terrorists, which…I suppose is pretty fitting. Mythology based terrorism. Or is this a religion? I still don’t know. I can’t buy in to the concept of some sort of god creating us. Not one worth a damn, anyway. If this is some kind of divine plan, it sucks. A lot. There had to be a million different ways to implement this power without it going homicidal, and then sending in certifiable attack dogs to try to clean up the mess. It reminds me of that children’s song about the old lady swallowing a spider to catch a fly, then swallowing something else, and something else, until she dies. That’s what this feels like most days, a downward spiral into utter chaos.

  “How much longer do you think this will take?” I ask Noah.

  He gives me an annoyed glance, but says, “Tough to tell. Their security’s been upgraded. After Van’s attack on headquarters they beefed things up, and I’ve kind of been on the outs with them, so I’m not sure what all the changes are. It’ll take a while to work my way through and, even then, there’s no guarantee I’ll find anything on Isolde’s location.”

  Clapping him on the shoulder, I say, “Keep at it as long as you need to, but I have to steal Van for a while. The cousins are going to be arriving soon.”

  Van flinches. Actually, just about everyone in the room has a reaction, but not because there are more Roth’s on their way to the school. Our family relation is little more than a side note to most Godlings in comparison to the fact that these people are rogues. Godlings who turned their backs on their own kind…in their minds anyway. I see them as the smart ones. The ones who had the balls to leave and live their lives by their own dictates. I’m definitely among the minority on that line of thinking.

  Motioning for everyone to follow me but Noah and the Godling IT guy who’s been helping him with the computer stuff, I put my arm around Van when she reaches me. We walk to the partially renovated lobby and find Oscar already there waiting. He hasn’t been interested in Noah’s attempts to hack the Eroi. He’s interested in very little when Emily and Joshua are around…which I thought they were.

  “Did Em and Joshua go somewhere?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “I asked her stay in our room until I’m sur
e these cousins are trustworthy.”

  Not surprising.

  I do pause at him referring to his quarters as our room, though. It’s interesting. Permanent sounding, as if it will continue on once the threats are gone. It’s good, in many ways, but I still worry about my brother holding it together through all of this. Killing people certainly screws with his mind, and there’s little chance we’re going to get through this war without people on both sides dying. As the front door of the school pulls open, I decide my concerns about Oscar’s sanity will have to wait for another time.

  Caleb strides in with a large duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Several more decently built guys follow behind him, a few more regular sized men and women slipping in behind them and filling up the lobby as well. I do a quick visual count and frown. Eleven. That’s all he could recruit?

  As if sensing my disappointment, Caleb drops his duffle on the tile and says, “Most of our people have day jobs and need to arrange time off to be here. These are who could come with forty-eight hours’ notice. The rest will filter in over the next few weeks. We tried to fill your most urgent needs.” His gaze slides over to Chris, who’s standing behind me. “You have someone who can show my people to their rooms?”

  Chris steps up and nods. He motions to two young Godlings and they follow his order immediately. There’s no wariness or concern as his people began filing down the halls toward the still-not-that-great dormitories. He, however, stays put.

  “The list of trainers Zander sent me, the only ones I wasn’t able to fill with this first wave was the medicinal. We haven’t had many who leaned toward that area of natural studies lately, and our one trainer is currently battling severe morning sickness. She offered to come once she can stand being in a car for more than five minutes, but it may take a while,” he says with an apologetic shrug. He turns to face me. “For you, I found someone I think can help. Tall redhead who just left. One of your cousins. She’s ready to start after she gets her bags stowed if you are.”

  “Great,” I say.

  Caleb claps his hands together. “Well, let’s get going then. Where are your training facilities? No point in wasting time. I’ll get the introductions over in there, if that’s all right with you three.”

  Clearly, he’s referring to us Roth siblings, and not Chris. He takes it in stride and begins leading us toward the sparsely equipped gymnasium. Most of the young Godlings will likely miss the high-end equipment they were used to at the compound, but it’s still better here than being dead. As we make our way through the old school building, Chris and Caleb talk logistics and schedules. Van sticks close to me while Oscar pays zero attention. I’m focused on how this partnership is going to work.

  Had David been faced with someone coming in and wanting partial command, he would have sooner killed the usurper than listen to them. Chris nods and discusses as though he’s used to negotiating an armistice between two warring factions. By the time we reach the dented double doors, they’ve gotten the majority of the daily issues of training and planning settled.

  “Basic, but it’ll do well enough until you can better equip,” Caleb says as he glances around the room. His attention leaves Chris behind and turns to Van. “What styles have you been training in, Vanessa? Dennison’s high level Kung Fu and Bernice is Jiu Jitsu. I’m more of a boxing guy myself, but any one of us are happy to step in. You’re bristling with energy and need to burn it off soon before it starts affecting you for the worse.”

  For a long minute, Van stares at him. “Noah trains me in Jeet Kune Do. I’ve been boxing lately, though. The energy, it’s…not easy to get rid of right now.”

  “For the worse…” Oscar muses. “What do you mean by that?”

  Caleb turns to Oscar, but flicks a questioning glance at Chris on the way. “Look at her hands twitching. The longer she holds that much power in, the more it affects her physically. It’s damaging to hold it too long.”

  “Physically, or…something else?” Oscar asks.

  “All of the above,” he says. “Physical and mental degradation aren’t uncommon in those who refuse to burn off excess power. I know you all weren’t raised with a lot of this type of knowledge, but your parents should have known that after training with the Godlings.” He seems confused over why Oscar would question him on something that’s so basic in his eyes.

  Chris steps into the conversation, both physically and verbally. “Gloria was convinced the opposite was true.”

  “Did my grandma make me crazy?” Oscar asks, his tone even but carrying the hint of a bite.

  Caleb doesn’t offer an answer. Even though they’ve been keeping tabs on us all our lives, he doesn’t know the details. Chris, however, has a more inside knowledge. “It’s more likely, Oscar, that insisting you not use your power, and restrain it so much, worsened a problem that was already there. Doing the opposite should hopefully help.”

  He nods slowly, considering. “Kung Fu,” he says suddenly. When Caleb raises an eyebrow at him, Oscar says, “The structure of the style appeals to me, and I think…will help.”

  Caleb shrugs. “All right then, I’ll let Dennison know when he gets here.” He gestures at me next. “You want to keep things interesting and go with Jiu Jitsu or train with one of your siblings?”

  “I’m more interested in figuring out my gift that anything else.”

  He nods. “Carmine will handle that, but physical conditioning helps us in more ways than just strength and endurance. Talk to Bernice when she gets here, okay?”

  While I don’t particularly appreciate him taking over as he is, I’m not opposed to learning more of what I started at the compound and am somewhat relieved not to be the one making decisions for a while. Chris is more leery, but keeps his opinion to himself for the time being. While Oscar engages Caleb in a discussion about the nature of our power and its detrimental effects on our bodies, I watch the group of rogues stalk into the gym. They take care of their own introductions, and I zero in on a woman who introduces herself as Carmine.

  She smiles as we shake hands. In her mid-forties and wearing bright purple plastic glasses frames, she settles her hands on her hips before speaking. “So, your gift is refusing to wake up, right? What is it exactly?”

  I hesitate, but figure there’s no point in being secretive when our main focus is finding the Eroi and Sonya. “Finding Richiamos.”

  Her lips press together thoughtfully. “Difficult one to test, but I think we can manage. I’m used to working with low-level, lazy gifts. Your power and hunger are eager to be let loose, but that has its challenges as well, I suppose. When do you want to start?”

  “Now.”

  She nods, expecting that answer, and gestures toward a stack of old mats piled against a wall. Together, we drag one off the top stack and lay it out on the gym floor. I can’t help wondering what she has planned. I was expecting she’d drag me off to a classroom or something. When she sits down on the mat and crosses her legs, I give in to my curiosity and follow suit.

  “How are you at interacting with your power?”

  As much as I don’t like admitting weakness, I have no clue what she’s talking about. “Do you mean using it to heal faster or strengthen muscles? Or using it as a…weapon?”

  She frowns at the word weapon, but doesn’t offer an opinion. “In the most basic sense, yes,” she says, “but those are rudimentary interaction skills. You need to be much further along if you plan to lead an offensive against fully trained Godlings.”

  “My sister can move her power around, through a person’s body to identify illness, or out to, uh, taste people, their power or whatever. She doesn’t know she’s doing it most of the time, but she’s been doing Tai Chi and has gotten better at moving it intentionally. Oscar sees it, so he could explain better. Is that what we’re talking about? Because Van’s tried to teach me and it makes no sense,” I complain.

  Carmine’s gaze flicks over to where Van is standing in front of a heavy bag with Caleb. “Your sister is
a special case but, yes, that’s what I’m talking about. She probably hasn’t had much success in teaching you because her “tasting,” from what I understand, is subconscious. Moving her power through another person’s body…that’s the skill you need to learn.”

  “She’s tried. I can’t do it.”

  “Vanessa is powerful,” she says, “but not a trainer. She can’t tell you how she’s doing what she does, because she’s moving her power, not yours.”

  My brows rise as I stare at her. “Is that what you’re going to do? Move my power? Is that your gift or something?”

  Smiling, Carmine settles into the mat. “Pretty much, though I’ll be guiding you more than taking control.”

  “Okay, let’s do this then, I guess.” The idea of having someone pushing my power around inside me is a little disturbing, but I’ll do whatever it takes at this point.

  “How practiced are you at meditation?” she asks.

  I shrug. “It’s not really something David focused on with me, but my parents and grandma always had us do some basic exercises. Breathing and thought focusing stuff mostly.”

  Carmine nods, neither surprised nor disappointed in my deficient skills. “Let’s start with guided breathing and go from there.”

  With a high level of patience Van has never been capable of, she leads me through several rounds of breathing while focusing on muscles in different areas of my body. I’m not sure what tensing and relaxing muscle groups has to do with anything, but the longer I do it the less I’m distracted by the noises and movements around me. Carmine’s voice is the only thing that gets through my focus.