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  I also fear that Annabelle is right about Ivy. The look on her face when she saw Annabelle and me together isn’t one I’ll forget any time soon. Love or not, she isn’t ready to give up her connection to me, and I have no idea what she’ll do to stop that from happening.

  Chapter Five: Lock Picks and Sticky Fingers

  (Vanessa

  An icy chill yanks me out of sleep and I bolt upright, my chest heaving. The chill that woke me intensifies, burning my skin. Blindly, I reach out for Ketchup. My wild flailing connects with his head, and he jumps up with a yelp.

  “Van, what’s wrong?” he asks.

  I try to answer, but I can’t! My voice sticks in my throat. Panic douses me as my lungs freeze up, and my skin seems to come alive with fire. Desperate, my hands brush at my arms and legs, but nothing will stop the pain. I can hear Ketchup panicking next to me, but I can’t respond, my vision darkening as lack of oxygen takes everything else away.

  Fear more intense than I can describe hits me squarely in the chest as I stall in this moment of blackness, unable to breathe or move. Death hangs over me in the darkness. Tears roll down my cheeks as I plead for something to save me.

  As I stare into the blackness, petrified, something inside me calms when I realize it isn’t all emptiness. A pinprick of light hovers in front of me. As I focus on it, my panic dissipates and is replaced by a strange sense of curiosity. I can’t feel my body but, suddenly, I’m moving closer to the light. Or… maybe it’s moving closer to me.

  My head starts to hurt, but I can’t look away. It’s definitely moving toward me. Squinting, I try to make out what it is. I blink once, and when I open my eyes, the only thing that stops me from screaming is the fact that I haven’t taken a breath since the darkness grabbed me. The sight of Chris’s face inches away from mine, covered in dirt and blood, wearing an expression of terrible anger, scares me more than the darkness. I try to pull back, but I can’t move.

  “It’s not too late,” Chris’ specter says.

  A disembodied voice answers, saying, “No, you’re out of time.”

  My eyes widen, terrified of finding out what he is too late for but, before I can figure it out, air rushes back into my body, and I start shaking uncontrollably. My lungs expand angrily, sucking in a massive breath. A final dagger of pain pierces straight through my skull before it eventually mellows into a dull ache. I have barely a second to process that I can breathe again before Ketchup is grabbing my face.

  “Van! What on earth just happened?” Ketchup pulls me against his chest quickly before shoving me back to stare at me again. “You weren’t breathing and I didn’t know what to do, because if I called for David I’d have to explain what was happening and I know we can’t tell him about your visions. Was it a vision? It was different from before because you were cold and then hot, and you just sat there staring at nothing. It scared the hell out of me, and why aren’t you saying anything?”

  His chest heaves and his hands shake as he stares at me expectantly, demanding an explanation. I have to swallow and take another breath before I can even begin to form a coherent thought. “I, yeah, it was. A vision, I mean, but I don’t know what of.”

  Slowly, Ketchup begins to calm back down. “What do you mean? Usually, you get a pretty clear image, like with Zander in the octagon.”

  Lying back against the pillows, I press my sweaty palms to my face. “It was a clear image, but I don’t know what it meant. All I saw was Chris in some dark place, all dirty and gross. He said it wasn’t too late, and someone else said he was out of time. Then it all vanished.”

  “Who else was talking?” Ketchup asks.

  I shake my head. “I never saw him, and I didn’t recognize his voice.”

  Slowly, Ketchup lies down next to me. I curl against him, feeling how fast his heart is still racing. Given everything we’ve already been through tonight… or yesterday—I’m not sure what time it is at this point—the last thing I wanted to do was almost give him a heart attack. Laying my head on his chest, I pull his arms around me.

  “I’m sorry for scaring you,” I whisper.

  Ketchup pushes my chin up to look at him. “Hey, it’s okay. I know you can’t help it when this happens.”

  “Thank you for not running off for help. After the deal we made with the Eroi, the last thing I need is David finding out about my visions.”

  Shaking his head, Ketchup runs a hand through his hair. “The irony about that is… if David knew about the visions, there’s no doubt he’d take you into his inner circle. He’d have to. How else would he make sure no one else knew about your gift?”

  I shiver at the thought, wanting to stay as far away from David as possible. As soon as that thought forms, though, a sickening dread settles into the pit of my stomach. I huddle against Ketchup, scared to the point that I can’t let go of him.

  Ketchup surprises me by saying, “It finally hit you, didn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” I say weakly. Tears form in my eyes as I truly consider what we are about to do. “What were we thinking? This will never work.”

  Rubbing my back in slow, calming circles, Ketchup presses his lips to my temple. “Van, your grandma is dying. When she does, David will own you. At least this way, you’re walking into the lion’s den on your terms.”

  “But I’m still walking into it,” I say. The quivering in my chin makes me feel like a child, like being around David does. “How am I supposed to deceive David when I can’t even refuse to answer questions about whether or not you and I are having sex? That’s the last thing I would ever want to talk about with him, but he scares me so much that I can’t help but obey his every command. I don’t think I can do this, Ketchup.”

  “First off,” Ketchup says, “when were you and David discussing our sex life… or lack thereof? Do you have these types of conversations regularly? If so, can I join in? I can’t wait to hear David’s thoughts on teenage abstinence. Or was he on the other side of the fence?”

  When Ketchup’s lips turn up in a teasing, hopeful smile, I can’t help laughing just a little. Rolling my eyes, I say, “He didn’t express an opinion either way, except that you’ll be in a world of hurt if you try something I’m not ready for.”

  “Really?” Ketchup’s expression turns thoughtful, yet still mocking. “I wonder if he said that because he actually has some hint of paternal concern for you, or if he just doesn’t want to have to deal with hiding my body should I try to force myself on you. We both know how well that would turn out.”

  I can’t help it. I start laughing, swatting at Ketchup even though I appreciate his ability to lighten the mood. When I finally calm back down, I say, “It was a onetime deal, and if it ever happens again, no, you may not be present. I can’t imagine a worse conversation!” I shudder at the thought. “And it’s probably the inconvenience of hiding your body that prompted the concern. You know how much he hates getting dirty.”

  Ketchup shrugs. “You’re probably right, but you never know. Maybe playing Dad the last few months is starting to have an effect on him. Either that, or it’s jealousy. Sometimes, his fixation on you really creeps me out.”

  “What about his fixation on you? I’ve seriously wondered what team he’s batting for at times.”

  The look on Ketchup’s face is hysterical. “What? Please tell me you’re joking.” A disgusted shiver runs through his entire body.

  I chuckle again. “I think you’re safe. He’s just all-around creepy.”

  Ketchup eyes me, not entirely convinced. Tossing off disturbing thoughts like that a moment later, he continues with his original conversation in a more serious tone. “Look, Van, this isn’t going to be easy, but you can do it. I know you hate lying to people, but you hate seeing people you love get hurt even more. Just remember that, and playing this game will be much easier. You can do this.”

  Biting at my bottom lip, I curl against him. “What do you think the vision means?”

  Shrugging, Ketchup says, “I don’t know. So
unds like Chris is involved in something risky.” His hand runs up and down my back slowly as he considers my question more deeply. “How close are David and Chris?”

  “I’m not sure. They only spoke a few times that I saw, and it was just about how I was doing.” I try to remember if there was anything unusual about their interactions. After a minute, I give up. “He’s so formal, though, they could be brothers and I’d never know. I really have no idea.”

  For a long while, Ketchup is quiet. The silence would be peaceful, if not for the tension running through his body. I’m about to ask him what’s wrong when he finally speaks. “I think Isolde told Zander something he doesn’t want you to know.”

  “What makes you say that?” It’s not that I necessarily doubt Ketchup. I wasn’t real focused at that point, so it would have been easy for me to miss something. I’m curious what has him so suspicious.

  “Back at the compound, when Isolde gave him the phone, there was a weird look between them. Oscar noticed it, too.” Ketchup looks down at me, his expression wary. “There was something on the phone he didn’t want you to see.”

  I wish I could say that surprises me, but we’ve both hid things from each other when we thought it necessary. Part of me wants to trust that Zander knows what’s best, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. It might be something that will hurt me. It might also be another secret about himself that he’s trying to protect. What if not knowing is dangerous?

  “What do you want to do?” Ketchup asks.

  Sighing, the words I want to say just won’t come. Dealing with David is going to be hard enough. Snooping into my brother’s secrets isn’t something I want to deal with. I don’t really have a choice, though. “We need to get that phone.”

  Ketchup nods. I can practically see dreams of breaking and entering swimming through his mind like sugarplums on Christmas Eve. I’ll let him dream for now. Somehow, I doubt breaking into Annabelle’s apartment and actually finding the information we want will be as simple as a few lock picks and sticky fingers.

  Chapter Six: For Keeps

  (Vanessa)

  Dragging myself to the breakfast table in the morning feels like crawling through broken glass. My whole body hurts. The bleary eyes and stiff muscles gnaw on my hunger like an old bone. The only thing that saved me from utter despair was waking up next to Ketchup. Sure, he was sprawled out with one arm over his eyes, mouth open, and snoring a bit, but it made up for everything else. Especially when I snuggled against him, and he kissed me on instinct while still mostly asleep.

  I try to think about that now as my pounding head makes me wish I were still doped up on Chris’s magic, hunger-killing tonic. Gently, I rest my head on the table next to Ketchup’s arm and wait for Grandma to finish making breakfast. That proves a poor choice when she practically slams a pitcher of orange juice down on the table right next to my head. I lurch up, wincing, and give her an unhappy glare.

  My hunger is even less pleased. Tensing as it roars to life, only Ketchup’s hand clamping down on my thigh stops me from jumping at her. That, and the way her pain ripples off her body like poison. I can feel a million different pinpricks of pain radiating from all over her body. Each one is small on its own, but together, they are stifling. Coming from anyone else, there’s no chance I could resist my hunger’s desires. Meeting Grandma’s eyes tempers my hunger just enough to keep control.

  “What was that for?” I ask as nicely as I can manage, which really isn’t much.

  Her mouth pops open, but snaps shut when Ketchup shifts in his chair next to me. Bristling, she spins away, back to the sausage she seems to be re-killing. She doesn’t go far, unfortunately, but it’s enough to give my hunger a small reprieve. I look over at Ketchup, mystified by her reaction.

  In response, he shrugs guiltily. Trying not to draw her attention, he leans in close and whispers, “She came in to check on you this morning and found us in bed together. I thought she was going to kill me right there.”

  Cringing, I glance over at Grandma. I turn back quickly as her spatula attacks the sausage once again. A thought that should have occurred to me last night finally catches up. “How did you end up sleeping with me last night? David’s usually pretty strict about that.”

  “I got you settled in bed when we got back last night and went to sleep on the couch, but you were having a hard time. I think you were in pain after such a long day. David kept getting calls and couldn’t deal with you, so when I offered to help, he agreed.”

  “Oh.” The smack of the spatula hitting the counter sends a dagger of pain through my skull. “Did you tell her that?”

  He shrugs. “Didn’t give me a chance. She stormed out as soon as she saw me. I heard her and David arguing.” Ketchup looks over at my grandma warily. “She was even madder after that.”

  Suddenly, a good deal of my concern at staying out of my grandma’s way disappears. I know I’m younger than Zander, but it’s pretty hypocritical of her to all but throw Zander and Annabelle at each other, yet treat me like a criminal for this. She’s all for the two of them getting as involved as possible as a tactic to detox Zander of Ivy’s influence. Who cares if Annabelle is right for him or they actually have a chance at a relationship? It serves her purposes, so why not?

  A scowl takes up residence on my face, and any inclination to play nice takes a hike. If she wants to be judgmental, why don’t we start with all the lies she’s told? How about the fact that she won’t be here in a few months, and she refuses to talk about it or admit it’s true? She’s basically handing me over to David, a sick and twisted psycho who can’t be trusted, because she’d rather not think about what’s really going on. She has the gall to be pissed that Ketchup and I might have slept together? We were fully clothed, for crying out loud! Never mind that my hunger is still hypersensitive and having sex with Ketchup would probably lead to me accidentally killing him!

  Ketchup’s hand on my forearm distracts me for a moment. I look over at him, furious at my grandma, but his gentle tone takes my anger down a notch when he says, “She’s just worried about you. Give her a break.”

  That’s the last thing I want to do, but I take a deep breath and try to hold onto my temper and my hunger. By the time Grandma turns around with fully loaded plates, I have a calm expression plastered onto my face and my hunger on a tight leash. She drops the plates, spilling some of my scrambled eggs, but I grit my teeth and keep my mouth shut.

  Ketchup is doing much better. He shoves a hearty forkful of eggs into his mouth before leaning toward me with a suspiciously serious look on his face. “Proving her suspicions right would be the ultimate payback for her jumping to conclusions. I’m totally game, just in case you were wondering.”

  He breaks into a grin a moment later, and I bust up laughing. My elbow pokes into his side, but his smile only widens. Grandma spins around and glares at us, but it has way less effect after Ketchup’s teasing. I just shake my head and look over at him. For a moment, I can’t look away. He’s still grinning like a dork, but behind the playful joke, there is the kind of desire that every girl hopes to one day see in her boyfriend’s eyes. It takes my breath away to see how much he truly wants me.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I say quietly.

  Nothing else exists in that moment as Ketchup leans toward me. His fingers glide along my jaw, drawing me closer. As his warm breath washes over my sensitive skin, my eyes close. The lingering aches and pains of yesterday melt away when his lips touch mine. It is chaste and sweet, but a beautiful expression of his unending love. I am numb with pleasure from head to toe by the time he pulls back.

  I’d be happy staying in this moment, but that’s the exact second Grandma decides to lose it. She tosses her towel down on the table and says, “Are you two quite finished?” Her entire body looks ready to snap. He anger rouses my hunger even more, and I have to grab the edge of the table to keep myself in check.

  “It’s not enough that you spent the night together last night?” she
continues. “I will not allow this to continue in my house! I am still your guardian!”

  “For how long?” I snap. Angry at the interruption and the lies, I push away from the table and stand up to her for the first time in a long time. “How much longer before I’m handed over to David for who knows what purpose? Do you even care what happens to me anymore?”

  Stricken, Grandma presses a hand to her heart. “Of course I care.”

  “Not enough to tell me the truth about why you haven’t come this close to me since I got home from the hospital. Not enough to make sure I’m not turned into a monster. Not enough to be there for me when I needed you!” I shake my head and grab Ketchup’s hand. He stands next to me, but he doesn’t move yet. I stare my grandma down. “Ketchup stayed with me last night because I was in pain, and you weren’t willing to take care of me yourself. If you want to worry about someone’s sex life, turn your focus back to Zander. That’s all you’ve thought about since Annabelle got here anyway. You have no right to treat Ketchup like this after everything he’s done for me, for our family. Your approval doesn’t mean much to me anymore after the lies you’ve told and the secrets you’ve hidden, and are still hiding.”

  My legs are weak as I step away from the table, but Ketchup is there to support me. He’s always there, and always will be, unlike other people. I meet my grandma’s gaze one more time and say, “You’ve lost the right to tell me how to live my life. You turned me over to David months ago, so take it up with him.”

  The angry, teenage storming-out routine I attempt turns into an awkward stumble held up by Ketchup, but I don’t even care. I leave behind my breakfast and my grandma both. Wanting to escape to my room, I let Ketchup lead me into the hallway, but we both stumble to a stop when we find David waiting with crossed arms. I freeze, waiting for him to start berating me for yelling at my grandma. Surprisingly, it doesn’t happen.