Unraveled i-2

by Gena Showalter

  “Shannon?” she said. “Where’s Aden?”

  Victoria, he thought. Once again he forced his eyes to open. The lights had been turned off and the curtains closed, so the room was cast into welcome darkness. He flopped to his back. Like Dan, Victoria stood at the side of the bed, staring down at him.

  Thomas was beside her, watching, listening.

  When she reached out, Aden scrambled backward. “No touching.”

  Hurt clouded her expression as her arm fell to his side. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m Aden. It’s Aden. Trapped.” If she touched him, would he possess her body, as well, taking Shannon with him? He hadn’t with Dan, and he wanted her hands on him—always—but he wasn’t willing to risk it.

  First, she appeared confused, then frightened. “I knew it! I never should have left you. I knew you were sick, I just, I wanted you to rest and I was afraid you wouldn’t if I stayed, and oh, God, now I’m babbling. I’m so sorry. I’ll get Mary Ann. Yes? I’ll have to leave you again, but only for a moment.”

  Mary Ann. Perfect. She muted abilities. “Yes.” Maybe, just maybe, her presence would force him out of Shannon’s body. If not…

  God. He’d be stuck. Forever.

  MARY ANN SNUGGLED against the warm, soft—strangely large—heating pad in her bed. She’d never slept this deeply or this peacefully before. Maybe because this was the first real sleep she’d had in what seemed forever, so her body had needed to do something drastic. Or maybe because this just might be her very last sleep.

  No. Wait. That kind of thinking didn’t make any sense. She would have been scared, up all night tossing and turning, and wondering if she really was a Drainer, if Riley was done with her, if the witches were now coming after her.

  Now the tossing and the turning began. What was she going to do? How was she going to— Wait again. No matter where she moved, the heating pad remained pressed into her side. How odd. Even odder, she didn’t own a heating blanket. Did she? Her eyelashes fluttered open.

  There was a big, black wolf in her bed.

  Mary Ann yelped in surprise, heartbeat speeding out of control.

  Shh. It’s me. It’s okay.

  The words reverberated inside her head, deep and husky and familiar. “Riley?” His name was more a shout than she’d intended. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and peered over at him. The lights were off, and the sun hadn’t yet risen all the way, so details were hazy.

  The wolf was stretched out beside her, dark fur gleaming and green eyes bright.

  “Riley,” she said, a statement of fact this time.

  The one and only.

  “What are you doing here?” More importantly, did she look like a mess? She scanned herself. She wore a blue tank, and her covers bunched at her waist, shielding her lower body—boy shorts and bare legs—from his view. She ran her hand through her hair. A few tangles, but nothing too terrible.

  You might be a Drainer, and that witch, Marie, suspects it. No way you’re sleeping alone again.

  He cared, then. He still cared. And he’d said “might be a Drainer,” which was an improvement from their last conversation when he’d baldly stated, “You’re going to kill me.” Her lips curled up at the corners. “So you’ve been here all night?” Protecting her.

  Yep. Came back right after I escorted Aden and Victoria home.

  “I’m glad. And thank you.”

  My pleasure.

  Their gazes met, and for a heated moment, he was watching her as he had in the very beginning, before the witches and the feeding, as if she were important, as if she mattered more than anything else in the world. A girl could get used to that.

  Grin widening, she fell back onto the mattress and wished she’d woken up sooner. “Now that we’re both alert, we should probably talk about last night. We said some things that—”

  Suddenly her bedroom door burst open, and her dad flew inside, scowling. “What is going on, Mary Ann?”

  “Dad!” Panicked, caught red-handed, she jolted upright, jerking her comforter with her. “What are you doing?”

  “You shouted that boy’s name. I thought—” His gaze landed on Riley and he stilled, terror darkening his eyes. He was still in his pajamas, a flannel shirt and pants, so he must have rushed straight from bed. “Mary Ann, listen to me, baby. Get up slowly. No sudden movements, okay? I want you to inch your way behind me. Okay? Do it now, honey.”

  Oh, God. This was so not happening. “Dad. The, uh, dog is harmless, I swear.” Biggest. Lie. Ever.

  To prove his “harmlessness,” Riley licked her palm. Goose bumps broke out over her skin, and then heat flooded her cheeks. She didn’t want her dad to think a dog turned her on.

  “How do you know that mangy thing is harmless?” Her dad had always hated animals, feared them. “Now, why aren’t you moving away from him and toward me? I don’t want to scare you, but he could use your face as a chew toy, sweetheart.” Riley stiffened.

  “I just do. Know, that is,” she said. “He won’t hurt me. He’s…my pet.” Please don’t be mad, Riley, she thought, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. “He has been for the past few weeks.”

  Her dad’s blue eyes widened, panic and fear giving way to bafflement. “No. No, that isn’t possible. I would have known.”

  “Yes, way. See?” She wrapped an arm around Riley’s large frame and buried her face in his soft neck, cuddling him close.

  “No,” her dad insisted, shaking his head. “You would have told me. I would have known.”

  Oh, Dad. There’s a lot you don’t know. She straightened, heart still hammering against her ribs. “I know about your rampant animal phobia, so I kept him hidden. But, see? He’s trained. He doesn’t cause any trouble. I swear.”

  He was shaking his head again before the last word left her mouth. “That thing could have you for breakfast, Mary Ann. I want it out. Now.”

  “Daddy, please. Please let me keep him,” she said, and commanded tears to bead in her eyes. Laying it on too strong? Maybe. But she needed him to say yes. That way, Riley could come and go freely. There’d be no more sneaking around. Really, she should have thought of this before. “He makes me happy. Since…you know. What happened between us.” Reminding him of their fight was low, but she was desperate.

  Finally, her dad softened. “He might not have all his shots.”

  He hadn’t said yes, but she knew. Victory would be hers. She wanted to laugh, to clap and dance. “I’ll take him to the vet myself.”

  A pause. A sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You called him Riley.”

  Uh-oh. “Yes.”

  “So you named your pet after your boyfriend?”

  “Uh, yes.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  Was he reading all kinds of psychological reasons into the situation? “It just seemed…appropriate. They’re both protective of me.” There. A truth.

  A bit more softening. “Does Riley know?”

  “Yeah, and he approves. He was flattered.”

  “That just proves he’s weird and you shouldn’t hang around him.”

  “Is that your professional opinion?” she asked pointedly.

  He was silent for a long while. “I can’t believe this. A mangy mutt in the house, all this time. Fine. Keep him. But if he soils the rug, he’s out.”

  She pressed her lips together to keep from grinning. “I understand.”

  He turned, throwing over his shoulder, “And if he growls at you, even once, he’s out. He looks wild.”

  I am, Riley snapped inside her head.

  Do not laugh, she told herself.

  Her dad paused at her door. “Where does it stay while you’re at school?”

  It. Nice. “Outside.”

  “You could be inviting fleas into our home, Mary Ann.”

  No. Laughing. “He’s clean, Dad. I swear. But if I spot a single little bug, I’ll bathe him.”

  That could prove interesting, Riley said.

 
“And thank you,” she added. “For everything.”

  “You’re welcome.” The door shut, leaving her alone with Riley.

  Finally allowing her amusement to bubble from her, Mary Ann fell back onto the bed and cuddled her mangy mutt.

  SIXTEEN

  SOIL THE RUG, Riley growled. As if.

  Mary Ann continued to laugh until tears streamed down her cheeks. There’d been so much terror and suspicion, running and waiting, so much time spent dreading what would happen and what was to come that she felt a little weird finding humor just then, but she just couldn’t help herself. Actually, she didn’t want to help herself.

  Riley didn’t help. Fleas. Mangy. Another growl. We’ll see what he thinks of me when I chew through his kneecap.

  “None of that, now,” she said between giggles, “or you’ll be thrown out.”

  He gave another growl, but he did relax against the mattress, against her. My fur is silky, damn it.

  Finally, she calmed—yet her grin was wide and unhideable. “Very.” He sighed. Just go back to sleep. You need all the rest you can get.

  She meant to protest. She really did. But as she lay there, petting him, listening to him practically purr his approval, his warmth and softness drugged her, lulling her back to the darkness as nothing else could have. Her cares melted away, leaving only a sense of bliss. She’d missed this, and knowing he would be here when she woke back up…

  When she next opened her eyes, yawning, Riley was still beside her. See! Still beside her. Mary Ann lifted her cell off her nightstand and glanced at the clock. She frowned. She had fifteen minutes before she had to get up and shower for school. She wanted an hour. She and Riley hadn’t talked yet.

  Oh, well. No help for it. She’d savor these fifteen minutes as if they were her last. In the stark light of the morning, however, all of her worries returned, flooding her mind, last night replaying over and over again.

  We are dating, he’d said. At least I think we are.

  Ouch.

  One day you’ll kill everyone I love, he’d added. Hell, one day you’ll kill me.

  Double ouch.

  No, there would be no savoring. One day, if she was a Drainer as he suspected, she might kill him. Kill this boy who had brought her to life, tugging her from the safe world she’d created for herself, where she had never truly felt, but had only operated on autopilot. No way would she let that happen.

  If she had to leave him and everyone she knew and loved, she would. But. Big but. That didn’t mean she was unwilling to do everything within her power to prove she wasn’t a Drainer—or to do whatever was necessary to revert back to her old self if she was.

  Hungry? Riley asked hopefully.

  His voice slipped inside her mind, as warm as his body. She took stock. Her stomach was empty, but not tight or grumbling. “No,” she admitted, though she’d wanted so badly to lie.

  Sighing, he jumped from the bed and padded into her bathroom to change into his human form, as well as into the clothes he kept stashed there. This wasn’t the first time he’d stayed in her bedroom. Hopefully not the last, either. While he was up, she rushed to her door and turned the lock, then she sat at the edge of the bed to wait for him to emerge.

  She didn’t have to wait long. The bathroom door creaked open a few minutes later, and Riley stepped out wearing jeans but nothing else and her breath caught at the sight of him. So tan, so lean and muscled, he was every girl’s fantasy come to startling life. Seriously, you practically needed an ID to touch that six-pack.

  Maybe that was why he exuded such an undeniable bad-boy vibe.

  And he’s mine, she thought proudly.

  Maybe. For now.

  Squaring her shoulders, refusing to slink into depression, she pushed to her feet. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  “Okay.”

  He strode to the bed and she made her way into the bathroom. She quickly brushed her teeth and hair and took care of business. There were dark circles under her eyes, despite her peaceful rest last night. Plus, her cheeks were a little hollowed out.

  Not for the first time, she found herself wishing she were beautiful like Victoria. Or Lauren. Mary Ann scowled. Lauren, who had dated Riley and only recently broken up with him. Lauren, who was probably a better kisser, definitely braver, utterly more confident, and wouldn’t ultimately kill him and all those he loved.

  Mary Ann’s self-esteem took another hit.

  Disgusted with herself, she stomped back into her room. Once again Riley reclined on the bed, and she settled in beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. He was just as warm as when he’d possessed fur. He’s mine, she thought again as his heart pounded against her temple. Not Lauren’s. Not anyone else’s.

  Maybe.

  She stiffened. Maybe, again. The word was like a cancer inside her brain, eating at her, destroying her. The more time she spent with him, the harder she fell for him. That was a fact. Another fact? The harder she fell for him, the harder it would be to leave him, if that’s what she ultimately had to do to save him. And she would leave him to save him.

  “What’s wrong?” Riley had one arm tunneled under her, and that arm wrapped around her, fingertips smoothing over her brow.

  “Just thinking,” she said.

  “About?”

  “If I am a Drainer. When will we know for sure? How will we know for sure?”

  He sighed and, of course, he ignored her questions. “Listen, I shouldn’t have yelled at you last night. I was freaked out and worried about my family. But you’re my family, too, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you that way.”

  “You don’t have to apologize.” That was the truth, but yeah, she did like those words on his lips. “This is serious, dangerous stuff, and if something were threatening my dad—” or you “—I would react the same way.”

  “Still.” He pressed a soft kiss on her cheek. “Moment I left you here to escort Victoria and Aden home, the thought of you in danger had me sweating and cursing and practically shoving those two into their rooms so I could return to you. And by the way, I will be sleeping here every night until the witches are no longer a threat to you.”

  Sweet boy. “Just don’t soil the rug,” she quipped.

  He gave a mock growl. “Funny.”

  A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she frowned. “You usually hide when you hear my dad coming. Why didn’t you this time?”

  Riley shrugged, the movement bouncing her head up and down. “I wanted him to see me. I want to be able to come and go as needed without fearing he’ll shoot me on sight.”

  “Smart.”

  “Genius.”

  Her lips twitched. “Okay, returning to the subject at hand. I asked some questions a few minutes ago and you ignored me. I’d really like you to answer now. So. First up. When will we know if I’m for sure a Drainer?”

  “Actually, let’s not return to this subject. Let’s forget the Drainer thing for now.”

  “No. I can’t.” Not when he might be in danger. “Answer, please.”

  He uttered another sigh, warm breath ruffling fine strands of her hair and brushing them against her brow. “Food will make you sick, because your body no longer needs or wants it. You’ll begin to crave close proximity to witches and other creatures, and you’ll know them, what they are, what they can do, before you ever even see them.”

  Stomach churning… None of that helped her case. She’d already begun to sense when creatures were near. She’d known Marie was in town before she’d seen her. And yeah, she would love to experience that rush of power again. Craved it, as he’d said.

  “Tell me if any of that happens.”

  She would do more than tell him. She would show him. She pushed from the bed and strode to her desk.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Finding out.” Maybe she should have waited until she was alone, but he needed to know just as much as she did. Shaking, she pulled a candy bar from the top drawer, where bags of nuts and othe
r candies rested. Her emergency study stash. She peeled back the wrapper, turned to Riley, who was stiff and anxious, and bit into the top.

  Usually, she would close her eyes and delight in the sweetness of the chocolate. This time, the food was like ash in her mouth. Her stomach tightened up, ready to revolt, but she did it, she swallowed, and it was like swallowing a lump of coal.

  Regret hit her first, then the sickness Riley had promised, strong, consuming, raking every inch of her. Bile rose, burning her throat. Any second now, she would—Eyes wide, she rushed to the bathroom, hunched over and vomited into the toilet. Over and over again.

  When her stomach was finally empty, she brushed her teeth, once, twice, then swished mouthwash for several minutes, until every part of her mouth tingled from the alcohol. All the while, her shaking increased.

  No. No, no, no.

  “Better?” he asked when she entered the room. “Fine.”

  “Could be nerves.”

  “Yeah.” But she knew, deep down, she knew, and so did he. They might not want to face it, might want to deny it with every fiber of their beings, but they couldn’t. Not any longer. She was different now. She had changed.

  She was a Drainer.

  Almost in a trance, she walked back to the bed and reclaimed her spot at his side. She would have to leave him. If she didn’t, she would one day hurt him. Was this the last time she would ever be with him like this?

  “I’m sure it’s nerves. A self-fulfilling prophecy,” he said, voice devoid of emotion now. “I told you that you would be sick, therefore you were.”

  He’d always been the realist, she the dreamer. Now it seemed their roles had reversed.

  “Riley,” she said softly.

  “Nope,” he interrupted, as if he suspected where she was headed. “We’ve covered that topic of conversation. Now we can move on.” He pressed another kiss into her cheek. “I want you to know that when I said we were maybe dating yesterday, I was still in shock. I didn’t mean it, and I want to kick my own ass. We are dating, so don’t you dare think about seeing someone else. You’re mine, and I don’t share.”

  Sweeter words had never been spoken, and she should have been flying through the clouds, lost to happiness. Except, she found herself saying, “Riley…I just don’t know. I mean—”