Wicked Power Page 3

  Finally, David continues, “It is possible that Ivy did love you, but even love is nothing compared to the kind of zealot belief Richiamos are instilled with.”

  “So she may have loved me,” I say, “but not enough.”

  “No. Love is never enough when it comes to them.”

  After saying that, he does walk away. The bitterness and betrayal in his final words are something I understand all too well. He answered my question, but I wonder how much he believes his own words. I suspect the real question he asks himself every day is the same one I ask myself. How can I make the Eroi pay for what they’ve done?

  Chapter Three: Into the Mix

  (Vanessa)

  So many things about this experience are totally weird. Watching Noah compete in a Jeet Kune Do match with Grandma’s permission is something I never thought would happen. I started training with Noah in secret before that horrible David ever showed up. Now, I am expected to keep up my lessons with Noah, which is also a strange thing for me.

  It’s a confusing thing as well.

  Training with Noah is nothing like training with David. Where David is brutal, Noah is kind and patient. David seems to take pleasure in beating me down, but Noah enjoys teaching me and building me up. My time spent with Noah has become a refuge from the insanity. I smile to myself as I think of those few hours of normalcy.

  Laney and I cheer as Noah gets a solid hit on his opponent. We’re hardly the loudest. Noah’s rather large family is sitting in front of us, all five of his siblings and both parents clapping and yelling. My friends, Sandra, Kari, and Wyatt, are only a smidge quieter than Noah’s family. Wyatt, who dreams of becoming a championship bull rider, loves anything risky, so his cheering is hardly a surprise. Sandra and Kari are just plain overenthusiastic about everything. The only one in our group who looks bored is Ketchup. That’s another odd part of this day.

  The day Zander almost killed Ivy, Ketchup was the one to help me not only find Zander, but hold myself together long enough to get to him in time. Throughout that day, Ketchup learned the frightening truth behind my strength, healing, and strange behavior. Part of me expected him to run just like Zander said he would. He proved us both wrong.

  That hardly means our relationship is any less complicated than it was before. I think Ketchup knows how much I want to be with him, but he doesn’t understand what is holding me back. It’s not as easy as just giving in. There are too many consequences, too many dangers and risks. I want Ketchup so badly, but I want to protect him even more.

  Ketchup thinks Noah is what’s standing between us, but he’s wrong. In the beginning, there was a possibility with Noah. It would have kept Ketchup from being drug into this Godling mess, and being put in danger of their retribution if things don’t pan out exactly as they hope. I just couldn’t do it, though. Maybe that makes me a bad person. I’m not sure anymore.

  Noah is a friend, nothing more. Ketchup’s kiss convinced me of that. I’d like to say that training, and a few hours of escaping David, are the only reasons I feel the need to keep Noah close. The truth is, there’s more to it than that. If the whole experience with Ivy taught me nothing else, it taught me to be wary. I don’t like the idea of doubting Noah, but there are times when I get the sense that he knows more about me than he’s letting on. His easy brush off of my lack of injuries after the fight in the alley when we first met was suspicious, but there have been other smaller things as well.

  Noah makes contact again, and his opponent hits the mat hard. Cheers spring up from our section like fireworks, and I shove away errant thoughts. Even Ketchup nods appreciatively at Noah’s abilities, for once. Then his eyes go back to sweeping the audience. I know he doesn’t want to be here. Watching Noah take down his opponents holds no interest for him. Knowing I have taken time out of my day to support Noah doesn’t make him happy. Ketchup would rather be anywhere else right now, if not for his need to protect me. Deep down, Ketchup knows he wouldn’t stand a chance against an Eroi or Godling, but giving into that knowledge isn’t easy. I’m sure his desire to keep an eye on Noah has something to do with it as well.

  I don’t know what Ketchup expects to find as his eyes take in everyone in the audience. He’s not convinced that the Eroi won’t send someone else after us. I’m not either, but an all-out attack isn’t their style. They have rules about killing people like me. Imagine that. I would have to kill someone first, one of their own, before they could condemn my whole family to die by their ancient, freaky swords. That kind of attack won’t be something we can pick out of a crowd.

  Even still, I appreciate Ketchup’s desire to protect me.

  Noah executes a perfect heel hook kick, ending the match and claiming the win. We all cheer again. Even Ketchup offers up a few paltry applause. He’s trying.

  Noah’s fight was the last match of the meet. His victory names him best in his weight class. Today is the final day of a two-day competition, so awards are next. Competitors and event staff bustle around setting up podiums and microphones. We all clap again a few minutes later when Noah receives his trophy. After his acceptance, everyone gets to run down and mob their contestant. I have every intention of greeting Noah and telling him what a great job he did, but when his family starts heading for the floor, I lag behind.

  “You’re welcome to come,” I say.

  Ketchup’s lips press together before responding. “Spend the evening sitting around with Noah and his family? No thanks.”

  He says that, but I can see it in his eyes that a part of him wants to come. What I don’t know is if his motivation comes more from a desire to protect me, or the desire to cause trouble with Noah. As understanding as Ketchup is trying to be, he has his limits. Understanding that, I don’t push him to reconsider.

  “Okay, but if you change your mind, you’re welcome to come by.”

  Ketchup shakes his head and mumbles something under his breath. I only catch a few words, but what I do hear makes me fold my arms and give him a pointed stare. “Ketchup, either come to the party or go home. I don’t want you hanging around spying on everyone.”

  “You need to be protected,” he argues.

  I sigh at his admission that he is indeed planning to watch the party from a distance. “This isn’t about you watching for Eroi. It’s about Noah.”

  “I don’t trust him,” Ketchup growls. “His Mr. Perfect act can’t be real. He’s hiding something.”

  Sure, that part of my reasoning he agrees with, not that Noah is just a friend.

  “If he is, we’ll deal with it. You spying on the party isn’t going to show you anything more than being there in person would,” I say. “Please, Ketchup, just go home if you don’t want to come to the party. I know he knows more than he’s letting on, but he’s not going to hurt me. I’ll be fine.”

  Ketchup’s mouth opens like he wants to say something, but he just shakes his head in frustration. He starts down the bleachers, but he turns back after only a few steps. “What if you need me?”

  “I…” I cut myself off before saying that I can take care of myself, because I know his concern is genuine. Touching his hand gently, I say, “If I need you, you’ll know.”

  Ketchup doesn’t seem to care for my answer much, because it puts him out of reach of me, but he knows it’s true. His fingers catch mine briefly and squeeze. There’s no magical connection between us—not one I know of, anyway—but he does have a knack for always knowing when I need him.

  “Today’s your birthday,” Ketchup says quietly, “what if…?”

  “My hunger isn’t on a schedule. It doesn’t have to emerge today. Zander and David both said it may take a few days or weeks.”

  “But what if it does happen today?”

  I shake my head. “It won’t.”

  “But…”

  “Ketchup, please,” I beg. The deep, unbending concern in his eyes breaks me. “If I feel anything, you’ll be the first person I call.”

  “Thank you,” Ketchup says. His lips
turn up in a cheeky smile a moment later. “If you’re next to Noah when it happens, feel free to give it a few seconds before you make the call. I won’t complain if you scare him off.”

  “How about if I accidentally kill him,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  Ketchup scrunches his face, as if he’s thinking about that one real hard. I smack his shoulder and shake my head. I know he’s joking, mostly…

  Hoping the matter of spying is at least settled, I head down to congratulate Noah on his win. Noah is handling this screwed-up situation about as well as Ketchup is. He understands that I just can’t handle a relationship right now, but dealing with Ketchup’s barbs and hostility isn’t easy. Dealing with his own jealousy isn’t a walk in the park either. I don’t want to create any more strain than is already there, so I hurry down the steps to reach Noah. Luckily, he is being smothered by his brothers and sisters at the moment. I don’t think he even realized I wasn’t already there. His parents give him hugs next, and then I am finally able to reach him.

  “You did so great!” I say, my enthusiasm completely honest. I love watching him fight.

  He grins as he wraps his arms around me in a massive hug. “Thanks,” he says before releasing me a long moment later.

  Noah has accepted our friend status, but that hardly means he doesn’t enjoy needling Ketchup. He takes a step closer, the corner of his mouth turning up. “So, now that you’ve seen me compete, are you ready to enter the next one and blow all the other girls away?”

  Laughing, I shake my head. “My grandma will never agree to that.”

  Noah slings his arm around my shoulder and grins. “Oh, I don’t know. She eventually gave in on training with me. She must trust me at least a little.”

  “Not that much,” I say.

  Noah laughs and steps back, glancing down at himself. “Sorry, I’m covered in sweat. I should have thought of that before dripping all over you.”

  “It’s fine,” I say, “but I do hope you’re planning to shower before we head out.”

  “Yeah, I should probably get on that.” He tugs on his shoes and slings his gym bag onto his shoulder, but he doesn’t leave quite yet. “My family is heading home to get the barbeque started. Do you mind waiting for me?”

  “Not at all. I’ll be right here,” I say with a smile. Ketchup narrows his eyes at Noah from a few feet away, but he keeps quiet.

  Noah still doesn’t leave. His eyes slip past me to our group of friends. Laney and the others have adopted Noah into our group over the past few months. He gets along with everyone well, aside from Ketchup. As usual, Laney is babbling about who knows what, even though no one is really listening. The other three are chatting with Noah’s family, while Ketchup continues to stare down Noah.

  “Did Ketchup change his mind about coming?” he asks, his gaze directed at him with equally narrowed eyes. “I thought he had better things to do than sit around my backyard.”

  “No,” I say, moving to block their view of each other. “Ketchup is going home after this. He’s just…”

  Noah smirks and says, “Keeping tabs on me? He could at least try to be subtle about it.”

  “He’s trying,” I say with a sigh.

  Ignoring my comment and glancing back at Ketchup, Noah quickly pulls me in for another hug. Before I can react, he plants a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he says before darting away.

  Ketchup is at my side a moment later. “I saw that,” he growls.

  Pressing my hands against my face, I look over my shoulder and plead with him. “Please, Ketchup. He only did it to get on your nerves.”

  “Well, it worked.”

  “I’m sorry. He caught me off guard.” Ketchup’s mouths pops open, an unpleasant remark on his lips, but I hold up a hand to stop him. “I’ll talk to him, okay?”

  Ketchup huffs, but nods and takes a step back. He is quiet for a moment before saying, “Maybe I should come to the party.”

  My body tenses at his words. “You know I’d like you to come, but if you’re only considering it so you can fight with Noah…that’s not okay. This was a big day for him, and it’s not fair of you to do that.”

  “Fair?” Ketchup snaps. “It’s not fair that his pretend fighting and this never-ending English project sucks up so much of your time. I’ve barely seen you in the last week.”

  “I know,” I say, “and I’m sorry. David takes up more of my time than anyone else, him and work. Things are just crazy right now.”

  Sighing, but still frustrated, Ketchup says, “I know. I’m sorry.”

  I place my hand on his forearm gently. “Are you going to come?”

  Ketchup runs a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. Finally, he shakes his head. “I’m not going to be able to play nice tonight.”

  I bite my bottom lip, knowing that means he won’t come to the party. I can’t help noticing that he doesn’t say he’s going home, though. “I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”

  Ketchup nods, but I can tell his thoughts are elsewhere. I can imagine what’s going through his head right now, and I sigh.

  “I’ll call your house number when I get home,” I say sternly.

  Eyes narrowing, Ketchup knows he’s been caught, but there is no remorse in his expression. The mischief in his eyes makes me anxious. “Ketchup, I don’t want to see you sneaking around Noah’s house.”

  Ketchup shakes his head at me, grinning. “What makes you think you’ll actually be able to spot me?” he asks before turning and walking away. Noah’s family and the rest of my friends leave soon after to get ready for the party, leaving me alone to wait for Noah.

  Flopping down on the bottom row of bleachers, I wait for Noah, worrying the whole time about what Ketchup is up to. A confused mix of irritation and comfort fills me. I know he wants to protect me, but his spying is too much. I have caught his car outside my house late at night more than once over the last month. I worry that the desire to protect me will get him into trouble.

  I drop my head into my hands and breathe out slowly. For the millionth time in the last month, I doubt my decision to keep Noah close. Maybe we’d both be better off if I just took Zander’s approach and kept to myself. It would be easier…but more dangerous, I suspect. I jump and nearly slip off the bleachers when a hand touches my shoulder. I look up to find Noah hovering over me.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he says.

  “It’s okay. Guess I zoned out a bit there.”

  When Noah offers me his hand, I take it and he helps me back up. For a moment, I worry he won’t let go, but he allows my fingers to slip through his as soon as I’m solidly on my feet. He doesn’t move to leave right away. Instead, his head dips down and one of his feet shuffles back and forth. It takes him a moment to look up and face me.

  “I’m sorry about earlier,” he says. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. Ketchup just really gets under my skin.”

  I find myself sighing again. “Maybe I should be the one apologizing,” I say.

  Noah shakes his head. “Don’t even say it. I know what you’re thinking.”

  “You do?”

  He nods. “You’re thinking that your life is too screwed up, and being friends isn’t going to work.” He pauses and takes a step closer. “It’s not an option.”

  “I don’t think you can stop me,” I say firmly.

  Noah laughs. “No, you can’t stop me.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I want you and me to be friends. To prove it, I’ll try to quit irritating Ketchup. Getting rid of me won’t be as easy as you think.”

  He doesn’t wait for me to respond. Noah takes my hand confidently and tugs me into motion. It only lasts a few steps before he releases me, and his words sink in. What exactly did he mean by that? The walk out of the gym to Noah’s car is quiet, but strangely calming. He opens my door for me like he always does, closing it with a pleased expression once I am settled.

  How does he do it? I wonder. Moments before he walked up, I was
doubting everything. I had half-convinced myself to homeschool and give in completely to David’s training. With only a few words, Noah erases my doubts and tells me it’s okay. He’s willing to put up with the restrictions and awkwardness if it means being in my life. I look over at Noah and just watch him for a moment. On the surface, it seems sweet and endearing, but I can’t brush off the suspicion that there’s more behind his motivation.

  As he turns to check behind him before backing out of his parking space, he catches me staring. His sweet, easy smile spreads across his lips, but he doesn’t say anything. He pulls out of the space and starts toward his house.

  We both remain quiet for several miles before Noah breaks the silence. “Now, just to warn you, Amelia helped make the potato salad. There may or may not be a pink, plastic ring somewhere in the salad.”

  I can’t help it. I momentarily forget my fears and start giggling. I would think he just told me this to lighten the mood, but I know he’s not joking. I’ve been warned about Amelia being allowed to help in the kitchen before. Last time, it was a charm from her bracelet. Noah’s mom found it in the peas. Maybe that would turn some people off, but I love it.

  Noah’s mom isn’t quite the chef Grandma is, but sometimes home-style mashed potatoes and breadcrumb-coated pork chops that were rolled with the help of a five year old—and may contain pieces of plastic jewelry—can be more enjoyable than prosciutto wrapped something or other. Given my own penchant for fine cuisine, that’s really saying something.

  Ten minutes later, we pull up to Noah’s house. I have to hold in a sigh of relief when I don’t see Ketchup’s blue sedan parked anywhere nearby. In my head, I know that doesn’t mean he isn’t somewhere close by keeping an eye on things, but at least he’s not making trouble right now. Noah doesn’t seem to notice my preoccupation. He helps me out of his car with a smile.

  “Are you ready for this?”