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  Oscar shoves me away from him with a snarl. For the second time tonight, he knows someone else is right, and he hates it. “This is a risky plan, regardless of all of this. We both know her well enough to see the truth. Spying and deceiving are not Van’s strongest areas. I doubt her ability to survive this deal unharmed.”

  “She’ll be okay,” I say, but my conviction is thin, at best.

  The way Oscar grimaces says his faith is about as foolproof as mine is.

  “I’ll help her. I won’t let anything happen to her, Oscar, I promise.”

  I expect him to lash out with another round, pointing out my many faults and failures, but he surprises me by saying, “I know you won’t.”

  Oscar turns, then, and starts toward the hospital. Before he gets more than a few steps away, though, he turns back and locks gazes with me. “You proved yourself today, Zander, but don’t forget, I know how to get out of here, and I’ll use that knowledge if I need to.”

  Chapter Four: Love or Not

  (Zander)

  Ketchup directs me to where he hid his car earlier today after meeting Annabelle. It’s only a few blocks from my grandma’s house, but not close enough that I can see the driveway. I’m half-tempted to drive by and see whether David’s car is parked in front of the house. It’s a passing thought. There’s no sense in risking it. Ketchup or Van will text me as soon as they get inside and flesh out David.

  I come to a stop and look back at Ketchup, who hasn’t moved yet because Van is asleep on his lap. He tilts his head toward Van and asks, “Give me a hand?”

  “Sure.”

  I slip out of the truck and walk around the passenger’s side. When I open the door, I’m surprised again by how much my hunger for Ketchup has lessened. It gives me a moment’s pause as I consider the deal we made and how much David has actually helped us. What if we’re making a mistake? I shake that thought away as the images of Chris assassinating a man he didn’t even know rush back into my thoughts. Of course David would want his killers to be disciplined.

  Reaching in, I gather Van into my arms and lift her from the seat so Ketchup can get out. He’s opening the door of his car a few minutes later. Once I have my sister settled in the backseat, I turn to face Ketchup. We spent most of the last forty-five minutes fighting with each other over Annabelle, but we meet each other on even ground now.

  “Thank you for everything you did today, Ketchup.” I run one of my hands through my hair. “You’re a good guy, and I’m glad Van let herself admit how much she cares about you.”

  One of Ketchup’s eyebrows rises. He stares at me uncertainly for a moment before saying, “Is this the conversation where you follow up a compliment with a threat that if I ever hurt your sister, you’ll kill me?”

  Chuckling, I shake my head. “No, not exactly. I figured you already knew that part, but I’m not worried. I know you’ll take good care of her.”

  “Really?” Ketchup asks. “I thought you didn’t like me. I mean, I know the whole hunger thing was part of it, but you never seemed to like me as a person, either.”

  “I didn’t,” I admit, “but only because I thought you were a little pathetic, hanging around and moping after Van all those years. You were kind of pathetic, but I understand why you never walked away. You couldn’t abandon her, and I respect that.”

  Ketchup nods, and I can tell that my words actually have an effect on him. “Thanks, Zander. That means a lot coming from you.” Glancing down at Van’s sleeping form in the backseat of his car, he looks back up at me with a serious expression. “What are you going to do about Annabelle?”

  Shaking my head, I look down at the scuffed-up snow boots I’m still wearing. “I don’t know. She really threw me tonight. I thought I could trust her with all of this, but after tonight…”

  “You know she’s in love with you, right?” Ketchup says.

  “I…” Blowing out a breath I feel like I’ve been holding all night, I look back up at Ketchup. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Are you in love with her?”

  Looking up at the stars, I try to stamp out the fear his question inspires. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you still hung up on Ivy?” Ketchup asks. “And before you snap at me, Annabelle was right about the way you reacted to her. You’re not as over her as you think you are.”

  My first reaction is to argue, vehemently. I don’t love Ivy, and I never truly did. I was addicted to her, but that’s something else entirely. Annabelle is different. I honestly care about her. She’s real where Ivy was false. I want to be with Annabelle, but Ketchup is right. There’s still something connecting me to Ivy, but I don’t know what it is.

  “I don’t know the answer to that either,” I finally admit.

  Ketchup nods slowly. “I don’t envy the situation you’re in, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from being friends with Van, it’s that this crap only gets crazier. Figure out who you want by your side through whatever insanity is coming our way. It could mean the difference between surviving this and ending up a prisoner… or dead. That’s always an option, too.”

  “Those are surprisingly deep words from a guy named Ketchup,” I joke.

  Laughing, Ketchup closes the car door. He looks back up at me a moment later. “I better get going. I texted David a while ago to say we were on our way home. I’m sure he’s about to send out the Godling troops to drag us back by now.”

  I nod, gesturing for him to head out. “Let me know how it goes with him.”

  “I will,” Ketchup says, “and by the way, my real name is William, just in case you were wondering.”

  Laughing, I say, “Good to know. That question has crossed my mind on occasion.” It’s been bugging me for years, actually. I shake my head and refocus. “Be careful when it comes to David, okay?”

  “Of course,” he says before climbing into his car and driving away.

  It takes me a few minutes to start moving. Ketchup’s words affect me more than I would have thought. I know he’s right. Choosing the wrong people to surround yourself with almost decided my fate once when I gave in to Ivy. I want to make the right choice this time, and Annabelle seems like the obvious pick, but seeing Ivy again left me confused. It wasn’t just the shock of seeing her and realizing it wasn’t as easy to watch her disappear as I thought it would be. Some of the things she said bothered me more than I realized until this moment.

  She wanted me to spare her this time. She begged me to control my hunger. Why the change? What does her new attitude prove? I have no idea, and that is more distracting than anything else. I’m not sure how long I stand in a gravel-filled alleyway before finally giving up on trying to figure it all out. I trudge back to the truck and climb in.

  Going to Annabelle’s has always been a relief, an escape. I find myself dreading seeing her this time. The miles seem to drag on forever until I take the last turn toward her apartment. Then it seems as if I’ve arrived too soon. The buzz of a text message reaching my phone is a welcome distraction. I unlock the screen and read what Ketchup has to report.

  David bought the story. Helped that Van was pretty much comatose. Think we’re good for now. Stay outta sight until Monday.

  After sending a quick reply with my thanks and assurances that I’ll be a ghost until David expects us to return, I shove the phone back into my pocket. My thoughts immediately return to Annabelle. I don’t reach for the door handle right away, not until I see her sitting on the curb in front of the building with her head in her hands. I’m still frustrated and somewhat confused by her actions tonight, but I can’t stand letting her sit there by herself like that.

  I slip out of the truck and walk slowly toward her. She looks up when I’m halfway across the parking lot. The moonlight catches the tears frozen on her cheeks, and I break. My pace quickens as she stands and starts toward me. I’m caught off guard when Annabelle all but launches herself into my arms.

  “I was so afraid you wouldn’t come back,” Annabelle whispers, her w
ords muffled as she crushes her face against my chest.

  Sighing, I pull her against my body more tightly. “Of course I was coming back.”

  “I really messed up, Zander. I’m so sorry.” She looks up at me with eyes filled with regret and tears. I wipe them away carefully and hold her gaze.

  “Why don’t you help me get some stuff from the truck, and we’ll go upstairs to talk?”

  Annabelle nods, biting the corner of her lip as she does. She pulls back and wraps her arms around her slender body. It’s as if she’s trying to vanish, just disappear and erase the last few hours. It’s painful to see her like that, but I’m not quite ready to do anything about it. I head back to the truck with Annabelle following sedately behind me. We’re both quiet as we grab a few essential bags from the truck bed and slog back to her apartment. Neither one of us speaks until everything is dumped on the floor next to her couch. We both stare at the pile, suddenly unsure of what to do next.

  “Are you hungry?” Annabelle asks quietly.

  I breathe a sigh of relief at the ordinary request. “Sure.”

  The corner of Annabelle’s mouth quirks up slightly as she turns away, but it falls immediately after. Usually, she does the cooking on her own. That’s probably because I often end up being more of a hindrance than a help but, for some reason, I follow her into the kitchen. “Do you need a hand?”

  Annabelle smiles timidly and nods. “Would you mind getting out the wok?”

  “The what?”

  “Sorry,” she says, “that funny-looking pan you asked me about the other day.”

  “Oh, sure.”

  I shift a few other pans in the cupboard and pull out the bowl-shaped pan with handles. I hand it over to her, and she dumps a bag of frozen stir-fry into it a few minutes later once the oil is sufficiently hot. The sudden sizzle when the meats and vegetables hit the pan makes Annabelle jump. I can’t help chuckling at her. Annabelle is strong and confident, but she can’t bear to open tubes of those ready-to-bake crescent rolls. She hears my reaction and looks over at me, her cheeks flooded with red.

  “You must think I’m so childish,” she says quietly, “so insecure and silly.” Biting at her lip, her head drops. “You’re right, too.”

  Her jumping at the sound of the stir-fry hitting the hot oil spurred the comment, but the tremble in her chin makes it obvious that’s not what we’re talking about now. I close the small space between us and pull her into my arms. “I don’t think you’re childish, but I’m not sure I understand what happened tonight.”

  Annabelle buries her face against my chest, but I push her back up to look at me. She waits expectantly for me to say something. I swallow hard under her gaze, and say, “I don’t mean just with you running away. I mean with me, too. I think I owe you an apology for how I reacted.”

  Shaking her head, Annabelle pulls back from me. “No, you don’t. I shouldn’t have reacted so brashly. I put everyone in danger.”

  “But you were partly right about Ivy,” I admit.

  Annabelle freezes. She doesn’t say anything, but I can tell she is scared of me continuing and confirming her fears.

  “I’m not in love with Ivy,” I say reassuringly, “not in any meaningful way, anyway. I can’t even explain it really. I still feel connected to her on some level, but I don’t want to be with her. I want to be with you, Annabelle, but seeing her again was harder than I expected it to be. It was confusing… some of the things she said didn’t make sense. The way she acted, that was even stranger.”

  “What do you mean?” she asks.

  “When Isolde had her brought into the room, she was testing me to see if I would kill Ivy or spare her life. She wanted me to prove to her that I wasn’t a killer… and Ivy wanted me to spare her life this time. She was desperate for me to keep control, even though nothing has changed about who and what she is.” I shake my head. “And once, she said that I should have let her save me, but I don’t know what she meant by that, either. Something isn’t right. I don’t know what’s going on with her, and I’m afraid of falling into some kind of trap.”

  There is understanding in Annabelle’s eyes, even though her fear and insecurity haven’t disappeared quite yet. “It could all be a ploy to draw her back into your confidences.”

  “I know,” I say, “but what if it’s not? What would that mean?”

  “I don’t know.” Annabelle frowns.

  I know the idea of me interacting with Ivy in any way bothers her, but it may not be something I can avoid. Turning away from me, she tends to the stir-fry, which is now slightly burnt. She is quiet for a while before turning off the stove and setting the wok aside. Keeping her back to me, she speaks again.

  “If Ivy is playing a part in some scheme Isolde has cooked up, it could be very dangerous for you.” Annabelle moves a towel for no reason, anxiety making her twitchy. “Please don’t take this as an insult, but I don’t know if you can resist Ivy this time any better than you did the first time. She knows how to manipulate you, and she’s already proved that her loyalties lie with the Eroi, and not you, despite the fact that I think she really did love you.”

  Flinching when I touch her shoulder, Annabelle looks away from me. She resists when I try to pull her toward me, but not enough to combat my strength. I can see the worry in her eyes that her words have upset me. My hands slide gently from her shoulders to her waist. “Annabelle, I’m not insulted. Nothing in my past has given you any reason to believe I can stand up against Ivy. She played me like a fool, and I let her. I’m not the same person I was when I knew her, though,” I say. “I didn’t know what I know now.”

  “You mean about the Godlings?” she asks, clearly confused as to why that would help me against Ivy a second time when faced with her lethal pull.

  I shake my head. “No. I didn’t know what a real friendship was supposed to be like. I was so self-absorbed that I couldn’t even force myself to give up what I wanted to protect my sister.” I step closer to Annabelle, tightening my grip on her. “Almost losing my family did a lot to change my outlook, but you did the rest, Annabelle. You showed me what real friendship looks like, what it means to care about someone so deeply that you’re willing to sacrifice everything for their happiness. I know I still have a long way to go to prove to you that Ivy will never have the same hold on me that she once did, but I could never go back to a relationship based on lust and addiction after having known you.”

  Annabelle’s lips part, but she doesn’t even attempt to speak. Softly, she lays her head against my chest and closes her eyes. I can feel her heart beating, her chest pulsing in and out with each shaky breath. This strong, beautiful girl is quivering in my embrace, and I don’t know how to respond other than wrapping my arms more tightly around her body.

  “Why did you runaway tonight?” I ask quietly. It’s a question I’ve already asked, one she’s already answered, but not one she’s explained fully. “I need to know that this isn’t about loyalty to the Godlings.”

  Showing more strength than she has all night, Annabelle pulls back and looks up at me. “Zander, I love you, probably more than you understand. I told you once that the Godlings weren’t my family, and they’re not. Even though I appreciate what they did for me, they’ve never been able to hide their true colors from me. I’ve spent most of my life walking around in the wake of their guilt and pain for whatever crimes they’ve committed. I don’t owe them anything.”

  She swallows hard and fights to stay calm. “I didn’t run because I wanted to tell David or bail on the deal with Isolde. I would never sell you out, no matter what the cost might be. My family threw me away, and that gave me the right to choose a new one.” Her hand presses to my chest, directly over my heart. “I’ve chosen you, Zander. Your whole family, even Oscar and Ketchup. You all are the first people who have ever accepted me so completely. That alone has earned my loyalty. I will never betray you.”

  “Then, why did you run away from me, Annabelle?”

  “I s
houldn’t have,” she admits as her chin starts trembling. “It was cowardly, and I feel so ashamed for what I did.”

  When she tries to hide her face from me, I slip one hand beneath her chin and gently push her to look at me. “Then why?”

  “Because the way Ivy looked at you—the way you tried to go after her—it broke my heart. The whole drive home, it was all I could think about,” she admits with tears in her eyes. “I can handle it if you never love me the way I love you. I can handle only ever being friends. What I couldn’t handle was thinking that you would go back to her, to someone who used you and was cruel to you, who hurt you willingly and without mercy. I was so scared that I would have to stand by and watch her tear you apart, powerless to stop it from happening.”

  Annabelle swipes at her eyes, angrily brushing away tears. “It was just so overwhelming and frightening. I needed some time to think, and I knew Oscar was going to fight you about going back to the hospital. When I saw a chance to sneak away while you were distracted, I took it.” She hangs her head. “I didn’t think about the damage it might cause.”

  Oscar has always been the one with the talent to know when someone is lying, but I don’t need him on hand to tell me Annabelle is being honest. Gathering her into my arms again, I hold her until she stops trembling. When she finally calms, I whisper, “Please don’t lose faith in me, Annabelle. You’re the only one who truly believes in me. I can do this. I won’t let go of you, ever. Not for Ivy, not for David, not for anyone.”

  “I won’t let go of you, either,” she whispers.

  The words I know she wants to hear are poised on my lips, but I can’t utter them yet. I wasn’t lying to Annabelle when I told her that I wasn’t in love with Ivy. What I have with Annabelle can’t be compared to the few months spent under Ivy’s spell, but I’m not yet ready to admit to Annabelle how much I love her. I fear those words are cursed, and the moment I utter them is the moment she’ll be taken away from me.