“Or on the phone with him,” I admit. She doesn’t have to search for David. He’s only a few taps away.
“There’s nothing we can do but run if she’s already betrayed us,” Oscar says.
“Run where?” I shake my head, terrified that may be our only option. “David will find us, no matter where we go. That’s why we haven’t run already. He has unlimited resources, a Godling army, and who knows what else.”
Oscar scoffs. “David only thinks he’s unstoppable. Killing or imprisoning us will not be as easy as he believes.”
I force myself to keep my eyes turned down. Part of me wants to see what is hiding behind Oscar’s eyes that make him so sure of that, but I’m too afraid of what I’ll find to look. There were many times Oscar disappeared between the time of his hunger erupting and his arrest. I was not allowed to see my parents’ bodies until the funeral, and I was never once shown a photograph of the crime scene, or even allowed back into our house. I didn’t need to see any of that to know Oscar’s power runs deeper than he lets on. Even still, I can’t help doubt his surety that he could outrun David. He hasn’t seen everything I have. He doesn’t understand David’s obsession. All he understands is his own abilities, and I just don’t think that’s enough to go on this time.
Before Oscar started losing his mind, we were very close. Closer than Zander and I are now. We weren’t supposed to intentionally stir our hunger, or attempt to use our power in any way unless we absolutely had to, but other people’s rules have never meant as much to Oscar as his own warped sense of right and wrong. He never attempted to hurt me. In fact, most of what he did made me laugh, or watch in awe. He could climb anything, jump from any height, do a million impossible things that he only ever showed me, and I loved it. That doesn’t mean I didn’t see the potential to cause pain… a lot of pain.
“Are you under control?” Oscar asks.
“Yeah, I think so.”
Oscar nods. “I suppose we should get going then. Not that rushing really makes a difference.”
“Uh, how do you figure that?” I ask as I shuffle back toward the car. To my mind, finding Annabelle and figuring out why she ran is pretty time sensitive.
Oscar and I reach the truck, but he doesn’t open the door right away. Instead, he says, “Because she’s made her choice. Either we’ll find her at her apartment, scared and lost, or she’s already in David’s pocket. If it’s the former, she’s not going anywhere.”
“And if it’s the second one?” I ask.
“Then David is already mobilizing against us. Running won’t do any good.”
“But, I thought you said all we could do was run if David comes after us.”
Oscar blinks. “It would be the wiser choice, but not the most satisfying one.” His lips part in a vicious grimace. “I dislike being hunted even more than being locked up.”
“So, you’re planning to do what?” I ask. Two full-strength, but severely undertrained Godlings, one half-crippled Godling girl, and one human boy do not make for good odds against David.
I half expect something profound to come out of Oscar’s mouth, though I don’t know why. It should be no surprise when he says, “I plan to kill David.”
I don’t bother to ask how he intends to do that. I don’t want to know.
Oscar helps me back into the truck, and I breathe a sigh of relief at the mellowed atmosphere. I fear it won’t last long, so I immediately start breathing and focusing. Oscar’s muffled voice stays on the periphery of my hearing as he lays out what we will do next, regardless of what anyone else wants.
Everything is so black and white for Oscar. Lying is unacceptable. Betrayal warrants harsh punishment. Family must be protected at all costs, unless one of the other rules are broken. He could kill Annabelle and never feel a moment of remorse. There is so much blood on his hands already. I stare down at my hands, wondering if I could really do the same. How far will I go to protect the people I love? It scares me to realize I already know the answer.
Chapter Two: Vicious Desires
(Vanessa)
The four of us sit in the truck, staring at Annabelle’s apartment complex after Zander kills the engine. “What do we do?” I ask.
The stillness of a waning winter night in the desert hovers around us for a moment. Oscar is the first to break the silence. “Are we going to do this, or what?” He looks at Zander with one eyebrow cocked. “You and Annabelle may be free and clear of David’s watchful eyes for the time being—assuming Annabelle hasn’t ratted you out—but Van and Ketchup have already gotten several texts from him wondering where they are. The excuse that they fell asleep watching a movie won’t hold up for long when he shows up at Ketchup’s house, demanding to see them. I’m sure Mrs. Keane will appreciate being scared half to death in the middle of the night, especially since she thinks Ketchup is asleep on the couch at Van’s house.”
I glance at my phone nervously. David won’t wait much longer. He’s been giving me a little more wiggle room lately, but not that much. If Annabelle has tipped him off, the texts could be a ploy. I freeze as a frightening thought occurs to me. What if he’s tracking my phone? My eyes slide over to Zander. What if he’s tracking his phone?
Ketchup seems to notice my concern and says, “He’s not tracking anyone’s phones. I already made sure of that.”
Everyone, including me, gives him a curious, yet somewhat wary look. Where did he learn about stopping a phone from being tracked? I shake my head. Probably better not to ask. Refocusing, I dart a glance back to Oscar and say, “We need to get moving. How should we handle this?”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, the atmosphere is clogged with emotion. Ketchup’s entire body tenses as his eyes narrow at Zander. Waves of fear and anger roll off my brother’s body. I do my best to shut myself down, but it’s not nearly enough.
“We need to confront her, now,” Ketchup says. His sharp voice is stronger than I’ve ever heard it before. It’s a little distracting in that moment, to be perfectly honest.
“What do you suggest?” Zander snaps. “Walk right up to her door? What if David is out there, waiting?”
Ketchup folds his arms across his chest. “I thought you believed in her innocence.”
“I do!” Zander clenches his jaw, his teeth grinding as his own hunger surges.
Not only does his hunger stoke mine even further, it snaps me into panic mode. Huddling against the door, I plead with my brother. “We’ll know soon enough whether or not Annabelle has betrayed us. Focus on making a plan. I can’t stay in this truck much longer, and neither can you. Please, Zander, just figure out what we should do.”
Making an effort to distance himself from Zander, Ketchup moves farther away. I don’t think much of it until Ketchup freezes. His eyes dart around the backseat briefly before settling back on mine. The panic in them makes Zander and me both freeze. “Where is Oscar?” Ketchup asks slowly.
I spin around in my seat, the pain blurring my vision momentarily. It’s not enough to keep me from seeing that Ketchup is alone.
“What the hell?” Zander exclaims. “How are people getting in and out of my truck so quietly?”
Ketchup looks baffled as well, but I stare at Zander questioningly. “They used their stored hunger to move quickly and lightly. Didn’t they teach you how to do that at the compound?”
All Zander can do is shake his head in confusion.
“There he is!” Ketchup says. He points past both of us to a shady form slinking between cars.
My breathing stops. It’s either Oscar, or a burglar, but my money is on Oscar. For a split second, I’m too mesmerized to move. He slips in and out of cars with a grace that is hard to describe. His speed takes a moment to comprehend as well. One part of my brain accepts it willingly, because Chris was teaching me these skills at the compound. The more logical part of my mind is stuck in neutral, because none of what I’m seeing makes sense.
Oscar didn’t go to the compound.
So, wh
o taught him how to do that?
My thoughts scatter as Ketchup yanks open my door. I reach out for him on autopilot, and he scoops me into his arms easily. A few seconds later, we’re bolting through the parking lot after Oscar. By the time we reach the sidewalk, I’m back in control of my frazzled thoughts. Panic tries to set in again, but wariness keeps it at bay.
Cataloguing everything I see as we run takes up every last bit of my focus. I twitch at every rustling leaf or errant sound. I’m so focused that it startles me when light from the hallway spills over my body. We’re through the door and into the building before I can process how far we’ve made it.
I’ve never been to Annabelle’s apartment before, and my nose wrinkles at this first look. The clean, but weary walls, matched with old, stale carpet makes me cringe. Grandma’s house is much smaller and older than the house I grew up in, but it’s way better than this.
Gasping in pain as Ketchup starts up a flight of stairs, I cling to him. He presses his lips to the top of my head briefly and says, “It’s going to be okay. Just hang in there.”
The words don’t really do much on their own, but the way his arms pull me closer against his chest does wonders. I can feel his own fear and uncertainty simmering deep within him. It’s hard for my hunger to ignore something that intense. It’s only Ketchup’s love wrapping around me like the old, childhood blanket my mom made me that gives me strength.
Although I can feel Ketchup’s emotions more intensely than anyone else’s, I’m not blind to what the others are feeling. We reach the second-floor landing, and as Zander stops to pull the door open for us, his fear nearly chokes me. It teases my hunger, calling to it so strongly that I nearly pull myself out of Ketchup’s arms to get to him. Luckily, he swings me into the hallway quickly, away from Zander.
“It’s just around the corner,” Zander says, picking up speed.
Reaching the corner a moment later, my hunger roars as Ketchup slams into Zander’s back. Words of warning disappear from my lips as one of my hands clamps down on his shoulder and squeeze. I can feel cartilage and bone snap beneath the force of my grip before Zander jumps away from me, stealing the pain I want so badly! Grabbing blindly for Zander’s arm, my craving suddenly disappears. Ketchup’s fear intensifies, while Zander’s has broken into despair.
The sudden shift is enough to pull my focus away from my hunger, but it leaves me reeling. I look up, confused and hungry. The sight of Oscar leaning against an apartment door, calm as can be, doesn’t help my confusion or hunger. Zander’s defeat suddenly makes sense as I realize he must think Oscar has already handled the situation. Ketchup’s emotions are a swirling mess as he seems to believe the same thing.
They’re both wrong, though. It’s not the timing I doubt—it’s the blood. Or lack of it, to be more precise. While Oscar’s hunger doesn’t crave chaos like mine, it does seem to run off impulsivity. His hunger is impatient. It wants no delay in being fed. Oscar wouldn’t take the time to clean up, or even hide what he’s done. I’m the only one who seems to realize that.
“Ketchup, put me down,” I say quietly. He starts shaking his head immediately, but the steel in my eyes cuts his argument short. A moment later, he sets me down, and I stand shakily to face Oscar. He continues to stare at the opposite wall, but I know he’s very much present in this situation.
“Took you three long enough,” Oscar says with a sigh.
“Do you have a plan?” I ask. “Beyond getting us up here?”
Oscar looks somewhat offended by the question. He stares me down like he might a puppy. His eyes sweep past each of us before settling back on me with a frigid expression. “Silly girl, I always have a plan.”
“Care to share?” Ketchup drawls.
Ignoring him, Oscar keeps his eyes on me. The other two don’t even seem to exist to him in this moment. “Are you prepared for this?” he asks.
Our conversation outside the hospital springs back into my mind. He doesn’t say it in front of Zander, but he wants to know that I’m going to back him up if Annabelle has betrayed us. I swallow hard and nod. “Yes.”
Ketchup and Zander both go very still, confusion and fear in their eyes, but I ignore them for the time being.
“Are you strong enough?” Oscar asks.
I honestly don’t know, but I don’t admit that out loud. “I have to be, right?”
One corner of Oscar’s mouth turns up. He nods approvingly. A moment later, his focus shifts back to Zander. He gestures at the lock. “Do I need to break the doorknob, or are you going to use your key?”
Zander reaches into his pocket, but stops halfway through the motion. He eyes Oscar warily. “How did you know I have a key to her apartment?”
“How did you even know which apartment was Annabelle’s?” Ketchup adds.
Silence falls over the group. I don’t know what everyone else is thinking, but I feel pretty stupid for not having questioned either of those.
If Oscar is bothered by their questions, he certainly doesn’t show it. “How I know is irrelevant. Just get us inside before I lose my patience with this whole endeavor.”
Looking sideways at Oscar, Zander steps forward and slips the key into the lock. He hesitates, not daring to actually open it. With a huff of irritation, Oscar shoves Zander out of the way and yanks the door open. It slams into the wall and rebounds into his waiting palm. The sound was more than enough to rouse any normal person into running or hiding, but Annabelle isn’t a normal person. The eerie silence puts everyone on edge. I reach for Ketchup as Oscar and Zander push into the darkened apartment.
We’re the last two to enter. Even though I see Ketchup reach for the door to close it, I still jump a little when the lock clicks into place. Without the light from the hall, the room is even darker now. Zander and Oscar stalk through the tiny apartment like beasts prowling for their next meal. That thought twists my stomach. Tightening my grip on Ketchup, we step forward slowly.
It only takes a moment for me to realize my brothers are looking in the wrong place. I can’t see or hear any sign of Annabelle, but I can feel her. “Ketchup,” I whisper, “she’s right next to us.”
“What?” he hisses. His eyes dart around fearfully as he pulls me under his shoulder.
“The closet.” I point slowly, not sure I want to attract the attention of either of my brothers just yet.
Ketchup’s eyes follow my gesture, widening as he realizes how close we are to the girl who may have just signed our death warrants. “What do you want me to do?” he whispers.
“Stay close.”
“Not a problem,” he says.
I slip my hand out of his, which makes him tense up, but he trusts me enough to let me go. It only takes a few steps to reach the closet. That short distance tears at my hunger relentlessly. Pressing my hand to the wall, I lean on it for support. My breathing skyrockets as waves of pain and hurt roll off Annabelle. By the time my hand makes it to the doorknob, it’s shaking like an addict coming off a high, desperate for another hit. It takes a monumental amount of focus to cinch my fingers around the brass knob and twist. A decrepit-sounding squeak groans as I start to pull.
Seeing Annabelle huddled on the closet floor, sobbing silently, makes the pain seeping out of her even worse. I crumble to my knees, doubling over on my hands to keep them from lashing out. Agony rips through my entire body as my hunger begs for sustenance. I try so hard to resist! Her anguish is deeper than anything I have tasted, slithering over me, attacking my hunger, and annihilating any hope of control.
I launch forward, driven nearly mad by the pain. My fingers are millimeters from her neck, from the source of such exquisite agony, before I’m suddenly ripped away from her. I scream as the pain slips away from me. My weakened body fights to get back to it, but a heavy weight crushes me to the ground. I try to fight back, but everything vanishes a second later as Ketchup crushes his lips against mine. My brain is a foggy mess, but I don’t really care. I pull him in as a new sensation washes over me.
Love, tainted by fear, soaks into my soul, and all thoughts of killing Annabelle drift away.
By the time Ketchup finally pulls back, I simply sink against him and breathe. “What was that for?” I manage to ask.
“For distracting you so you didn’t end up killing Annabelle before we had a chance to talk to her.”
“By kissing me?”
Ketchup grins. “I know it makes me happy, so I figured it’d do the trick. I’m always gonna be more irresistible than someone else’s pain.”
Rolling my eyes, I still can’t help smiling at him. It worked, after all, but I hope he realizes that may not always be true. Some pain is too hard to ever resist, and Annabelle’s was very nearly beyond my limits of control.
Slowly, Ketchup helps me back up from the ground. I stand, and my eyes are immediately drawn to Annabelle sitting on the couch, with Zander and Oscar blocking her escape on either side. They both seem to be handling the draw of her pain better than I did, but the tension in their bodies leaves no question that they are tempted by it. I start forward, slowly, testing my limits. I only stop when my hunger threatens to go rabid again.
Neither of my brothers are talking. Annabelle is staring at her knees. Her puffy, red face is confusing because I can’t get a firm handle on why she’s upset. I’ve gotten pretty good at sniffing out the source of physical pain. Emotional pain is a whole other ballgame. Still, maybe it’s possible …
Closing my eyes, I concentrate on Annabelle’s pain. It’s a frightening thing to do, because not only is it suddenly my sole focus and that sends its temptation factor through the roof, but because I quickly realize that this isn’t a simple trick. Physical pain has an exact source. Emotional pain fills the soul, scarring it, smothering the lighter parts, the happiness. It is a far worse kind of pain, a far more delicious kind.
My head begins to feel lighter, suddenly. Tingling spreads from my fingertips to my elbows. Standing up becomes a challenge, and I sag against Ketchup. I think he says something to me, but the words drift by unheard. My hunger roils. An errant thought tells me I should back off, but there’s no way I’m going to listen. When my hunger swells again, I let it. I half expect it to take over again and bend me to its vicious desires, but that’s not what happens at all.
Wicked Glory Page 2