Wicked Glory

by Gladden, DelSheree

  As the words roll off my tongue, they sting so much more deeply than the email invasion, more than anything else Noah might have broken into. I can handle losing my privacy, as I haven’t really had any most of my life. I wasn’t foolish enough to send anything through texts or emails that might get me in trouble. It breaks my heart to know he never really meant any of what he told me. Not one single word.

  “Van, please,” Noah starts.

  The sound of his voice incenses me. Grabbing fistfuls of his t-shirt, I slam him into the wall. “Don’t,” I hiss. “Don’t try to defend yourself. Don’t tell me any more lies, Noah.”

  Ketchup’s hand touches my shoulder gently, pulling my eyes away from Noah’s red face. The sadness in his expression startles me. “Van, let him go. You’re hurting him.”

  I honestly don’t know why he cares. My brows knit together at his concern. Noah tried to steal me from him. That alone kept him at Noah’s throat for months. We’ve suspected he was lying, and now we have proof. Why would he want me to be gentle? Why, when I don’t want to grant Noah any mercy, would Ketchup hold me back?

  “Van, look at what you’re doing to him,” Ketchup says softly.

  Confused, I glance over at Noah. I gasp at the sight of my hand around his throat. His lips, turning blue, move soundlessly as he begs me to stop. My hand springs away from his neck and, an instant later, my hunger drops away in disappointment.

  I didn’t even feel it. I was so angry with Noah, so hurt, that my hunger crept in without me noticing and seized control before I could stop it. Stumbling away from Noah, only Ketchup’s hand on my arm keeps me from falling. He gently lowers me to the bed and folds me against his chest while I stare at Noah, gasping on the floor.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Noah croaks.

  I cringe at the finger-shaped marks left on his neck, but part of me is just a little bit glad I hurt him. The shock of nearly killing someone I thought was my friend slowly begins to wear off, and my body tenses back up. Sensing the change, Ketchup loosens his hold on me, and we both face Noah down.

  “What group are you with?” Ketchup asks. “And you better be honest because I won’t stop Van a second time.”

  “He’s Eroi,” I say, feeling stupid for not seeing it sooner. “That’s why he was so mad about me being gone over Christmas. It had nothing to do with you, Ketchup. He realized when he saw us come back with David that we had been at the compound, right?” I look to Noah for confirmation, and I get it when his head drops.

  Ketchup shakes his head. “How did knowing he hacked into your email make you figure that out?”

  “Because, if he was working for David, he wouldn’t have needed to hack in. David already has all my passwords and login names. He monitors everything I do online better than any government agency ever could.” My whole body deflates as the reality settles over me.

  “Is that true?” Ketchup demands.

  Slowly, Noah nods. “I’ve been Eroi all my life. My family was sent here to watch the entire Roth family.”

  “But,” Ketchup says, “you already knew what Van could do. You’ve seen her heal, and you witnessed what she did to that senior who attacked Holly. Why are you… trying to help Van?”

  I look over at Ketchup sharply. Trying to help me? What is he talking about?

  Ketchup doesn’t seem eager to admit it, but he eventually says, “The phone call you overheard. He’s trying to keep the Eroi off your back.” Turning to look at Noah, he says, “Right?”

  “Pretty much.” Noah runs his hands through his hair and sags against the wall. “I’m having a pretty tough time of it, though. They know David is here, and they’re itching to make a move. They don’t believe you and Zander can train without becoming one of them. They’re going to move soon if I can’t find a way to stop them.”

  “Wait, what about Isolde?” I demand. “We had a deal!”

  The confusion that settles on Noah’s face sends a chill down my spine. “Who is Isolde?”

  Ketchup and I look at each other. I’m not sure what’s running through his head right now, but I’m thoroughly freaked out. I have to force myself to turn back to Noah and ask, “Don’t the different Eroi groups keep in contact?”

  “This Isolde person is Eroi? What deal did she make with you?” Noah asks.

  I don’t need Ketchup’s warning glance to stop me from telling Noah anything. Folding my arms defensively, I say, “You first.”

  Clearly frustrated, Noah hauls himself up off the floor and starts pacing. “Yes and no. We know where other groups are and have a general idea of what they’re up to, but each group is independent. We’re not like the Masons with secret signs and meetings. We’re just a group of people trying to protect the world from the Godlings! Everyone has their own way of doing that.”

  “And what’s your version?” Ketchup asks. The ice in his voice is hard to miss.

  “My family and I have always been observers. We watch and look for signs that Godlings we find are keeping out of trouble. If they’re peaceful, we continue to watch, but we leave them alone.” Noah shakes his head angrily. “They were ready to contain all of you after Oscar killed your parents, but the police handled him, and you and your brother didn’t seem to be a threat. Then Ivy showed up and threw everything into chaos.”

  I’m up off the bed, right in his face before he can blink. “You knew what Ivy was?” I shriek. “I tried to tell you there was something wrong with her, and you just blew me off!”

  “What was I supposed to say, Van?” Noah argues. “Yeah, you’re right? Ivy is trying to kill you? Have fun with that? Oh yeah, and I’m a part of a group that kills people like you, and that’s how I know you’re right about Ivy?”

  “Yes!” I’m so furious that I actually stomp. I want to punch him in the face, but I know that won’t do me any good. As mad as I am, I’m likely to accidentally kill him. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe! My hands are clenched, but I force a shaky breath out of my body. Looking back up at Noah takes a freakish amount of effort. “If you knew me as well as you seem to think you do, you would have known how much I wanted answers. You should have told me, Noah. Maybe if you had, it would have kept me from ending up as David’s pet!”

  “Did you miss the part where I said the Eroi like to kill people like you?” Noah asks in disbelief.

  My shoulders drop as I stare at him. “Do you really think I would want a bunch of killers running around hurting people?” I look away. “You just assume I disagree with the Eroi’s ideals because I’m a Godling, but I don’t want to hurt people. I don’t want any of the other Godlings to hurt people either. Don’t you know that?”

  “I… I guess I never thought about it like that,” Noah says as his eyes drop in shame.

  “Look,” Ketchup says, “Van isn’t training with David because she wants to become his protégé. She has no choice. We have a deal with Isolde to protect Van from David when the time comes. Your group better not mess that up.”

  Noah’s eyes slip from Ketchup over to me. “When the time comes for what?”

  “When my grandma dies and David gets custody of me.”

  Dragging his hands down his face, Noah mutters more than one not-so-nice word as he processes what I just said. To his credit, though, he looks more determined than ever when he finally looks back up at me. “How long?”

  “A month, maybe less. I’m not sure, but my grandma is getting weaker by the day. She spends a lot of time in bed now.”

  Sinking onto his bed, Noah sighs. “I’ll do my best to convince my parents and the people we work for that we need to back off and stay out of the way, but they’re already losing patience with me. They won’t let David take you, Van, but they won’t settle for anything less than a permanent separation.”

  Ketchup grabs Noah and drags him up to standing. “Then I suggest you become very persuasive real fast. If anything happens to Van, I’ll hold you personally responsible, and don’t t
hink for a second that just because I’m not a Godling, I can’t follow through on my promises.” He shoves Noah back down to the bed and storms away to the other side of the room. Noah’s eyes watch him warily. It’s clear he believes every word.

  I’m so full of conflicting emotions right now I can barely process even a small portion of this but, before I can escape, Noah touches my arm hesitantly. I don’t want to look at him, but I do. There is so much pain in his eyes, begging me to forgive him. I try to pull away, but he tightens his grip and steps closer.

  “Van, despite all of this, I do care about you. I always have. I wouldn’t have fought for you so long if I didn’t believe you were a good person. I know it doesn’t excuse me for lying to you about who I really am, but I will do everything I can to protect you. I promise.”

  Tears form in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. “I hope you mean that, Noah, because more than just my life is on the line now.”

  I walk away, letting him assume I was referring to Ketchup’s threat to kill him. He can think whatever he wants if it will make him work harder to keep his buddies from killing me. I’m not thinking about Noah’s well-being, though. I’m thinking of Joshua, of his precious little life and how quickly it could be over if anyone discovered his true identity.

  Chapter Nineteen: Acceptance

  (Zander)

  I haven’t heard from Van even though they should have been in and out of Noah’s house by now. Even though I promised to stay away and let her handle this, I’m seconds away from jumping in my truck. My elbow slams into the practice dummy again, but my heart isn’t in it. I needed to get away from David’s prying eyes, and this was the most convenient outlet for the anxiety that’s beginning to overtake me. Why hasn’t she called with an update yet?

  The thud of feet dropping to the ground spins me around, dropping me into a defensive crouch. I should have been ready for a fight, but the sight of Ivy standing in my backyard erases my training from my mind. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m supposed to be out scouting, but I needed to talk to you,” she says quietly.

  “Talk to me about what?”

  She stays across the yard from me, but my hunger can still taste her. It’s a temptation I don’t want to get any closer to, so I take a few steps back. Ivy frowns at my retreat, but it’s more sad than anything else. “The last time we talked,” she says. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about some of the things you said.”

  “I said a lot the last time I was there,” I grumble. I’m not in the mood for games, so if she wants to talk, there better be a good reason. The last thing I want is for Ivy to distract me when Van needs my help. I will not let that happen again.

  “I never believed you were a demon,” Ivy says almost too quietly for me to hear. “Yes, you’ve done things that hurt people, but I knew you were a good person at heart. Everything they taught me about Godlings, it didn’t fit when I got to know you.”

  Shuffling uncomfortably, I lean against the fence. “Look, Ivy, there are some really bad Godlings. David’s at the top of the list. There are bad Eroi, too. Maybe Isolde is carrying the top honors in that category, and maybe she’s not. I don’t know. What I do know is that she was willing to sacrifice innocent lives to get what she wants. You heard her admit that Van has never done anything to cause the Eroi to fear her, but she was ready to order her death along with Oscar’s and mine. Maybe Oscar and I do deserve it, but Van doesn’t.”

  “You don’t deserve it, either,” Ivy says. “I don’t know about Oscar. He killed your parents, and there have been others, too, but I realize now that I don’t know what led to any of those deaths. Wouldn’t I fight back if someone tried to kill me? You told me that Oscar was already unstable by that point anyway. Maybe he needed help, not one more person betraying him or trying to hurt him.”

  I’m startled when moonlight catches on a tear rolling down her cheek. My own eyes close in response to her pain and confusion. I can’t let myself be sucked in by her emotions. How do I know if they’re real? She’s saying what I have always wanted to hear her say, but does she really mean it?

  “It was more than that,” Ivy says a while later, “that made me start thinking. You said I couldn’t be human, not while being a Richiamos. Those words cut me more deeply than anything else. All my life I’ve been told that your kind were abominations and had to be destroyed, but what am I? All I am meant for is to lure monsters to their deaths? How is that any better?”

  Shakily, Ivy reaches out for the little bench against the fence and all but collapses onto it. She buries her head in her hands and shakes it slowly back and forth. “It’s all wrong, Zander. It’s all wrong.”

  “How long have you been with the Eroi?” I ask.

  It takes a while for Ivy to collect herself enough to answer. “I was two when they identified me.” She sniffs and wipes her tears with the sleeves of her sweatshirt. “My parents, my doctors, no one could figure out why I was so sick, why I was so erratic and hard to handle. They diagnosed me with every disorder under the sun, but nothing stuck.”

  “What was it like before they found you?”

  Wrapping her arms around her body, Ivy looks as if she’s trying to hold the memories at bay. “It’s hard to remember it now. I just know I was in a lot of pain. If I got around someone who was sick or hurting, it was even worse. I felt like their pain stuck to me somehow, amplifying the pain I was already carrying around. I was too young to understand what it meant to be crazy, but I felt like I was inside this never-ending carnival ride of pain.”

  “So, the Eroi… fixed you?” I ask.

  Ivy shakes her head, but stops and reconsiders her answer. “They didn’t fix anything, but they taught me how to tolerate it. It doesn’t consume me anymore like it did when I was little.”

  “How did they teach you to tolerate it?”

  “Probably about the same way David has been teaching you to control your hunger,” Ivy says with a sardonic laugh. “There’s a lot of breathing, focusing, acceptance of the pain, visualizing putting it away where it can’t hurt me. I have to be careful to stay away from people who are in pain, and I’ve learned to channel it into other uses.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like math,” she says with a laugh. “That probably sounds stupid, but most Richiamos are incredibly talented at something. It’s not because we’re that much smarter than anyone else, we just need to spend a lot of time focusing and keeping our minds busy.”

  “Is it still difficult, then?”

  Ivy nods. “It’s better when I’m around you, though, which is strange.”

  I’m not sure what to make of that statement. It’s definitely not better for me. Being around her feels like I am slowly poisoning myself. Part of me wants to just pass it off as something purely psychological for Ivy—gratification for fulfilling her purpose or something—but it makes me wonder if there might be another explanation.

  “Do you really believe I have a different purpose?” Ivy asks. Her voice is quiet, yet hopeful. It’s something I’ve never heard from her before. I’m still leery of everything she says, but it’s getting harder and harder to believe she came here on Isolde’s orders. I know what it’s like to crave answers so badly it hurts, and that is exactly what Ivy sounds like tonight.

  “I do believe that,” I say. “I think none of this is how it’s supposed to be.”

  “Then what? Why am I here, if not to help get rid of people who would only cause harm?”

  I can only shrug in response. “Whatever it is, I don’t think you and I were meant to be enemies, Ivy.”

  “What do you mean?” she asks.

  “I don’t know,” I admit, “but a lot of what you said tonight, it’s exactly how I felt growing up. We’re too similar to be meant to destroy each other. Something is missing in all the stories and promises and covenants, but I don’t know what it is yet.”

  We’re both quiet for a long time. I want to be able to give Ivy a real answ
er. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to die, and Godlings don’t have to be hunted by Eroi. I don’t have Van’s gift of intuition or visions to tell me I’m right, but I feel it in the deepest parts of my soul. There’s more to this than anyone realizes.

  Standing, I slowly begin to approach Ivy. She freezes when she notices me, maybe out of instinct, but when I motion for her to join me, she stands after a moment’s hesitation and walks toward me. My hunger leaps to life immediately. My first response is to try and shove it away, but I don’t think that’s right. Ivy begged me not to shut her out the last time we met, to accept her presence. I try. I really try.

  “Stop,” I say when my hunger threatens to get the better of me. I attempt to do what Ivy asked and accept the fact that she’s standing in front of me, radiating the most incredible amount of pain. I don’t understand, though. I don’t know how to be in her presence without feeding on the pain and giving in to the desire for more.

  It’s not until I look up at Ivy that something changes. The expression on her face is enough to give me pause. I have come to see her every move, every inflection, every word as a possible source of manipulation, but there is no denying the honesty of what I’m seeing. Her whole body is relaxed, her eyes closed, and her lips turned up in the most blissful smile I have ever seen on her face. She meant it when she said being around me makes her feel better. She looks like someone who has just had the weight of the world lifted from her shoulders.

  I’m not sure how, but knowing that I’m helping her changes something inside of me. My hunger is still raging, but controlling it isn’t as hard. I can take in the bizarre pain pouring off Ivy without the desire for more consuming me. A strange sense of acceptance finally settles over me.