The Blood Catalyst

Chapter 17

Zara crossed the finish line with her lungs burning and her legs threatening to give out. But she smiled. She had beaten Reina by a whole thirty seconds. That was all she needed.

She didn’t wait around for the coach to say anything. She didn’t even glance back at Reina or the rest of the team. She grabbed her water bottle, tossed her towel around her shoulders, and headed toward the track field where the track team was doing their drills.

The bleachers were mostly empty, so she climbed to the top and sat there, breathing in slowly, watching the 800m runners go through their sets. Coach Santiago stood by the sideline, hands on his hips, barking out encouragement to the boys doing intervals.

"You’ve got more in you, Ethan," Coach Santiago said. "Don’t just jog the last lap. Push like someone’s chasing you."

Ethan nodded, wiping sweat off his forehead with his forearm. "Yes, sir."

Coach Santiago gave him a small nod, then added, "You know, you remind me a lot of myself back in the day. Except I had better hair."

Ethan laughed. "You still have hair, Coach. Just... in interesting places."

Coach Santiago gave him a pointed look. "You’re lucky you’re fast."

"I know," Ethan said with a grin, jogging over to grab some water. "That’s what my mom said when I was born."

Coach chuckled and clapped him on the back. "Get ready. Next round starts in ten."

Ethan nodded and took a sip from his water bottle.

“But seriously,” the coach said, lowering his voice, “what’s with the rumors?”

Ethan frowned. “What rumors?”

“I’ve been hearing some nonsense. First about performance drugs, and then”—Coach Santiago raised his brows—“some wild vampire theory?”

Ethan blinked, then laughed. “Coach, come on. You know better than that. Drugs? Really? I’m clean. I’d never mess with that crap.”

Coach Santiago nodded. “Yeah, I believe you. But you know how people talk. We need to crush these rumors before they get any worse. If a local news station catches wind, it’s trouble—even if it’s all just nonsense.”

Ethan scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, the drug thing? I get where that comes from. I’ve won every race by a wide margin. But vampire?” He laughed. “That’s crazy. Totally unhinged.”

The coach chuckled. “Well, my daughter believes it.”

Ethan’s hand froze halfway through adjusting his shoelace. “Zara?”

Coach Santiago nodded. “Yeah. Mentioned it at breakfast the other day. Said something about weird stuff she’s seen. She stayed up doing research all night. Can you believe that?”

“Wow,” Ethan said, trying to sound casual. “I had no idea.”

But he felt it.

That prickling under his skin again. The same one from the other day. The same one he felt when she denied telling anyone. But clearly, she had.

While the coach moved on to yell at Alanis for slacking on her form, Ethan turned his head and noticed Zara sitting up in the bleachers. She looked like she was pretending to not be watching, but he saw her eyes flick his way.

He walked over, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt. "I thought you said you didn’t tell anyone anything."

Zara looked up, her brows pulling together. "Excuse me?"

He climbed up a few steps and sat next to her. "If you didn’t tell anyone, then how exactly is your dad telling me that Zara thinks the same thing? So how am I supposed to believe you didn’t say anything?"

Zara rolled her eyes. "I’ve told you this before—kill me, okay? If that’s what you think you need to do, just do it. I'll be more than glad to be dead and away from this bull shit."

"Killing you isn’t going to stop the rumors. You can still destroy everything I’ve worked for."

Zara scoffed and stood up. "You’ve never worked for anything, Ethan. You were born with an advantage. And you know it."

She picked up her bag and began walking down the steps, not sparing him another look.

"Wait," he said, using his powers to catch up with her. He grabbed her arm gently, swallowing hard as she turned to face him.

He was right.

He had a feeling something was wrong— Zara was not herself. She wasn't the same carefree girl who was so curious and inquisitive. The lively and curious spark in her eyes were gone and replaced by something else entirely.

"What?"

Her voice was cold and not chirpy.

"Are you, okay?" He asked softly. "I mean clearly not but..."

He trailed off.

But that was the question Zara needed to let out everything that has been inside of her. She fought hard, swallowed, clenched her fist but the tears came anyway, no matter how much she tried to blink them back.

"Hey," he said, pulling her closer to him— his hands cradling her face. "What's wrong?"

"Just f*****g leave me alone," she said, still unable to stop the tears. He pulled her into a hug, her head against his chest— tears soaking his tank top.

He could feel her hiccup against and then slowly she pulled back, wiping her eyes and looking up at him, the towards the track. Her father was there, yelling at the others to get ready and looking around for Ethan. .

"You should go," she said, her voice hoarse.

He nodded gently, and then his hands reached for her face one more time. "Be good."

"+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Ethan couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Even when he tried to focus, his brain would circle back to her face. The way she’d cried into his chest like she couldn’t hold it in anymore. The way she’d said, “Just kill me already.”

He hated that it got to him.

He’d spent the night tossing and turning, staring at the ceiling. Then the wall. Then the corner where the shadows moved every time a car passed outside his window. His father’s words echoed in his head.

She’s a threat. She knows too much. He tried to tell himself that over and over again.

But she didn’t feel like a threat.

She felt… like a person. A tired, hurting, stubborn person.

And there was the hug. The moment his arms had wrapped around her, and for the first time in weeks, he hadn’t felt like he was losing control. His rage, his panic, all of it… just paused.

What the hell is wrong with me? he thought.

If he couldn’t get rid of her, then he had to get rid of something else.

The damn rumors.

The next race was against Greenville. They weren’t a serious threat. But they had good runners.

He looked around, hoping to see Zara but he could not. A few students stared when he walked past. Someone pointed. He caught the words “drugs” and “vampire” in the same sentence.

Cute.

By the time he reached the warm-up area, Coach Santiago was already barking at some of the other runners. Alanis forgot his spikes again but luckily, Titus had extra.

The stands were loud, packed with students and parents. Reporters were already camped out near the finish line, their big lenses sticking out like awkward limbs. Ethan had seen them whispering earlier, passing papers between each other, nodding.

Some of the other reporters were already gathering on the other side of the fence. They didn’t even try to hide it. Cameras were aimed at him like he was some zoo animal. He caught one of the guys zooming in on his hands. What, checking for needle marks now?

He tried to block them out.

He focused on his laces, retied them twice, then stood at the starting line with the rest of the runners.

Normally, not many of them showed up to races between schools save for the local newspaper, but this time around, even some of the bigger news stations were here.

It was obvious what they were here for.

He lined up.

The referee gave the warning and the gunshot went off.

And he ran but not like before. He didn't rely on his powers this time around and he was still leading the race with two strides. He decided to slow down and be stayed just behind the lead runner. Let him keep the pace. Let him think he had it.

In the last stretch, the usual fire in Ethan’s legs kicked in, the one that always made him fly past everyone and break through the finish line first but this time, he held back much to the surprise of everyone.

The gap wasn't wide— just a second. Just enough to let the other guy stay ahead.

He came in second place with less than a second gap with the first place runner. The guy was celebrating that he had just won Ethan but on catching a glimpse of Ethan's face, he furrowed his brows.

"Did you do that on purpose?"

"Congratulations man, you did good," Ethan said, ignoring the comment. He looked towards his coach whose face didn’t change. He handed him a towel like he hadn’t just witnessed the end of a six-month winning streak.

The crowd still clapped, though there were more whispers than cheers. His coach’s face was unreadable.

He barely caught his breath before the reporters started pushing forward.

“Ethan!” one of them said, holding up a mic, “Was that a strategy loss?”

“Did you let him win on purpose to stop the drug rumors?”

"Are you on drugs or are you a vampire? What explains your superhuman speed?"

“Is it true you’re planning to retire early due to controversy?”

Ethan blinked.

Some sources say you’re being monitored for performance enhancement substances. Want to confirm or deny that?”

“I—”

“Don’t answer,” Coach Santiago said, cutting in, placing a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “No comments. Move.”

He guided him away, cutting through the group of reporters like a bulldozer through mud. They kept shouting questions but the coach didn’t even look back.

They went straight to the locker room.

“Don’t ever stop like that in front of cameras,” Coach said. “You freeze, they’ll eat you alive.”

Ethan sat on the bench, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t think they’d show up in their numbers.

“They always show up when there’s blood in the water,” Coach said. “You gave them a headline today.”

"Oh well, don't I always?"

"Yeah," Santiago sighed. "But when I said crush those rumours? I didn't say lose in purpose Ethan, that gives that something to talk about and makes you look guilty."

"I didn't—"

"You did Ethan. You slowed down. I know what I saw."

"Fine," he rolled his eyes. "Hey is Zara okay? Haven't seen her in a while at races."

"Just busy training. She slacked off a bit so she has to put in the work."

"Oh, okay," Ethan said with a sigh.

"What the hell was that man?" Alanis asked, walking into the locker room. "You lost that s**t on purpose."

"See," coach said pointedly. "Everyone can see past that. Everyone— including those who don't train with you, know you lost on purpose."

*+*+*+*+

By the time he got home, it was already on TV.

A sports analyst was talking about his “decision to lose” while footage of the race replayed on a loop in the corner of the screen.

The anchor said, “Many speculate that Ethan Moreau deliberately let his opponent win, likely to cool down the recent rumors surrounding performance-enhancing drugs.”

Ethan muted the volume.

His father stood by the living room door, arms crossed, face like stone.

“You really like attention, don’t you?” he said.

Ethan didn’t answer.

His father walked forward slowly, staring at the muted screen like it personally offended him.

“You’re back on the news,” he said. “Again. After what I told you. You throw it away. For what? Sympathy?”

“You had a problem with me winning. So I lost! What more do you want dad?",

“You didn’t have to,” his father said, turning to him sharply. “You made a show. You think losing one race fixes what you started?"

Ethan stayed quiet.

“You’re not helping. You’re making it worse,” his father added, voice low but full of anger. “If one more reporter comes sniffing around, I’ll make sure your next race is your last.”

"You can't—"

"I can and I will!" Lorenzo Moreau thundered, his eyes flashing red, and his fangs coming out. "Drugs? Good, fine! But what about the rumours about what you are?"

"People will be crazy to believe that," Ethan said, nervously scratching the back of his head.

"Well I have you know conspiracy theorists do. And it's all over the damn place."

"Yeah but— I mean, it's ridiculous. Just be calm. No one's ever going to—"

"Ethan," his father said in a cold voice. "Tell me the truth this instant. Who the hell was it you couldn't compel?"

Panic crawled through his skin. His heart began pounding like never before. He could not dare to open his mouth to mention Zara— that would mean death. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't?" Lorenzo scoffed. "I always know when you're lying Ethan— and trust me, I will find out... Whoever you are trying to protect at our expense? You has better start wishing them goodbye.”