Gena Showalter - Intertwined 02

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Gena Showalter - Intertwined 02 Page 29

by Unraveled (Gr 9 up)


  “Aden?” Victoria’s voice was soft, gentle as she attempted to return to his side.

  Several of the beasts hissed and snapped at her.

  “No,” Aden told them, stopping his petting. “She’s a friend.” He didn’t know what he expected the admonishment to do, but what he got was pitiful mewling. His arm was even nudged, a demand for more pets.

  He gave them, even as he said, “Victoria, approach us slowly.” He couldn’t allow these beasts to threaten or hurt her in any way. Ever.

  He could hear the soft fall of her footsteps. Again the creatures hissed and snapped. Their bodies stiffened, scales rising, almost like armor being engaged, preparing for attack.

  “Stop,” Aden told her and the beasts.

  The footsteps ceased. The beasts calmed.

  “Another step.”

  She obeyed, and more of those hisses erupted.

  “Stop.”

  Again, she obeyed. Again, the beasts calmed. He sighed. They would have to try again another time. These monsters just weren’t ready to accept anyone else, not that he could tell, and he wouldn’t be able to hold them back if they lunged for her.

  “How do I get them back inside their vampires?” he asked, still petting.

  “They’re solid now,” she told him, voice trembling. “They don’t have to go back.”

  Ever? “Can they, though?”

  “Yes, but I’ve only seen a return once. Usually the vampire hosts are dead by the time the beasts reach this point.”

  “Are the councilmen…”

  “No. They’re alive,” she said. “In pain, bones broken, but alive. They’ll heal.”

  Aden peered into the eyes of the monster in front of him. “I need you to return to where you came from,” he said. He couldn’t have them running about, scaring people. Eating people.

  That earned him a derisive snort.

  They understood, he thought, taking heart. “I need you to return,” he repeated more firmly.

  This time, he got a shake of the beast’s head.

  “Please. I’m grateful for your help, but those men, they’re also helping me. I can’t visit this home without them. So if you don’t return to them, I have to leave, and I can never come back. If you do return, however, I can talk to them about their wards, about letting you come out and visit with me.”

  He was taking a gamble. Did these creatures care about him? He didn’t know for sure. Did they want to spend more time with him? He didn’t know that for sure, either, but it was the only bargaining chip he had.

  They stared at him for a long while, eyes narrowing, nostrils flaring, clearly angry, but at least they didn’t attack him. Finally, huffing and puffing, they rose, one after the other. Gradually their color faded and the scent of sulfur thinned. By that time, they were once again nothing more than outlines, like ghosts.

  Astonishing. Those outlines floated to the writhing vampires and disappeared inside them as if sucked up by a Hoover. Aden watched everything through wide eyes. Amazing.

  A commotion behind him had him turning. Victoria was rushing to him; when she reached him, she threw herself into his arms, the impact nearly flattening his lungs. As he struggled to breathe, he hugged her tight. The other vampires who had entered the chamber were chalk-white, muttering and peering at him with a strange mix of awe, horror and disbelief.

  “How did you do that?” someone finally asked him.

  I’m wondering the same thing myself, Elijah said.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that…” another said.

  “The beasts were tamed. Actually tamed!”

  Beast Tamer. That should be our new nickname, Caleb said with a whoop.

  A big, burly vampire with red hair stepped forward, head bowed. He even dropped to one knee. “I do not know if you were told of my challenge, Majesty, but I humbly withdraw it.”

  A second vampire echoed his words and gestures, followed by a third, a fourth.

  “Good. That’s good,” Aden replied, because he didn’t know what else to say. “Victoria and I are going to take off for a little bit. Okay?”

  “Yes, yes.”

  “Of course.”

  “Please, enjoy yourself, Majesty.”

  “Do whatever you’d like. This is your home.”

  Though he was shaking, Aden twined his fingers with Victoria’s and allowed her to lead him out of the chamber and up the stairs toward her bedroom. There were now pink and green ribbons tied along the banister, he noted. Clearly people were taking his color mandate seriously. But with the council’s insistence that changes be limited to bedrooms and clothing, he wondered how long the ribbons would last.

  Riley and Mary Ann were waiting for them upstairs. They sat on the edge of Victoria’s bed, silent, not looking at each other.

  When he shut the door behind him, closing everyone inside, Victoria whirled on him, her eyes as wide as his probably were. “That was incredible. How did you do that?”

  “Do what?” Riley asked, frowning.

  Victoria told him, and the wolf paled, pushed to his feet and shook his head. “I should have been there. I’m sorry that I wasn’t, sorry you were attacked. I—”

  “It’s no big deal,” Aden told him, trying not to waver on his feet. “I had things under control.” For the most part.

  “Are you all right?” Mary Ann asked. “You look like you’ve been in a boxing ring. While playing with knives.”

  For the first time, Victoria raked her gaze over him. She frowned. “She’s right. Your clothes are torn and your skin is eaten up with bites and you…you smell divine.” Her voice lowered, husky with desire. “Shall I give you some of my blood to heal you?”

  “No, thank you.” He didn’t want to see the world through her eyes. Not that he minded. He actually liked it—when he wasn’t seeing through Dmitri’s eyes, too—but for the next couple of days, he needed to be in control of himself. “Were you able to get the tattooing equipment?”

  She nodded, forcibly jerking her attention from him. Then she motioned to the vanity. There were tubes, vials and needles scattered along its surface.

  “If you don’t mind,” she said, prim now, “Riley is going to do the tattooing. It’s going to hurt, and well, I don’t want to hurt you.”

  They shared a smile as Aden sank into the chair in front of the vanity. “I don’t mind.” He wouldn’t want to hurt her, either.

  “Does it speak poorly of my character that I’m looking forward to this?” Riley strode to him and pulled a second chair in front of him. He busied himself with the equipment, asking, “How many wards do you want?”

  “How many do I need?”

  “As many as you can handle. Were the situation reversed, I’d cover myself in them. But these are permanent, you know? With vampires, they fade as their skin heals from the je la nune we have to prep the needles with to leave marks on them at all. Not so with humans. And no, I won’t be using any of the je la nune on you.”

  “Is the ink magical or something?” Aden asked.

  “No. The designs themselves are spells. Well, anti-spells. You’ll see swirling lines, but the lines are actually a series of words.”

  Cool.

  “Anyway, choose carefully, because you’ll be stuck.”

  He pondered his options. “We don’t have a lot of time, so I’ll give you two hours. How’s that? Give me as many as you can in that time frame.”

  “Six. I can give you six.”

  “That seems like a lot for such a short amount of time.”

  “I’ve been doing this for, like, a century. I’m very good. So. What do you want to be protected against? Mind control? Ugliness? Pain? Death? Anything you can think of, they can cast a spell for. Impotence. Love. Hate. Rage. Oh, and we’ll have to give you a ward to protect your wards, so that they can’t be tampered with, well, unless they…never mind, that’s not important right now, but anyway, I guess that means we only have time for five others.”

  “Wait. Go back to th
at never mind,” Aden said.

  Riley sighed. “Wards can be closed with more ink, which negates their power.”

  Aden arched a brow. Why would someone want to negate one? “Is there a ward that will keep me alive forever?”

  “Yes and no. That’s a weird one, and one we don’t really have time to discuss. What I can do is give you a ward that will protect you from a death spell.” Riley’s self-recriminating tone lingered long after the words were spoken.

  “Can you protect Mary Ann and Victoria with such a ward?” Victoria had already told him the answer to that, but it couldn’t hurt to get a second opinion.

  “No. I could tattoo the ward on them, but the moment I finished, that ward would crackle and burn away, rendering it useless since they’ve already been bespelled.”

  Too bad. “Okay, then, I’ll give you an hour to work on me, which means I get three wards. Then I want you to ward Mary Ann against some stuff.”

  “Tattoos? I don’t know about that,” Mary Ann said, nervously shaking her head. “My dad would kill me.”

  No one pointed out the obvious. You had to be alive to be killed.

  Riley nodded again, for Aden’s benefit. She needed to be warded, therefore she would be warded. End of story. It would be one less worry for all of them. She’d realize that and cave, Aden was sure of it.

  Riley held up a silver gunlike device. “So. Besides the ward to protect your wards, what two would you like, Majesty?”

  “One against a death spell, like you said.” No question. And he was tempted to ward himself against hate. What if they bespelled him, and he thought he hated these friends of his? What if they cast a rage spell, and he injured his friends in a fit of violence? But in the end, he said, “Protect my mind.”

  “Good. We’ll start with that one. So far, the witches have wanted you alive. If they were to capture you, they’d probably try to scrub your head for information. This way, they won’t be able to do anything like that. Now, take off your shirt.”

  With a quick look to Victoria—she was watching him—Aden obeyed. Riley raised the device to his chest and got to work.

  There was a constant sting, but nothing Aden couldn’t handle. In fact, he could have taken a nap. And did. He closed his eyes, mind drifting, until he heard Riley curse under his breath.

  Aden blinked his eyes open, suddenly noting the burning in his chest and the scent of sizzling flesh that saturated the air. He looked down. There was a tattoo on his chest, but lightning snapped over its surface, wiping away the color, causing steam to rise.

  “You’ve already been cursed,” Riley said gravely. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  What? “I haven’t. Believe me, I would remember something like that.”

  “Well, the only other thing that would cause this kind of reaction is if you have a ward that prevents me from warding you.”

  “I think I’d remember that, too.” But there was a niggling sense in the back of his mind, a sea of darkness, of static. “Maybe I’m having memory problems, though. I mean, I was thinking that I’d encountered static in Dr. Hennessy’s mind yesterday, yet I can’t recall even trying to enter his head.”

  “Memory problems, huh?” Riley frowned, set the equipment aside and stood. “Take off your clothes. All of them.”

  He choked on his own breath. “Excuse me?” A shirt was one thing. Everything was another.

  “You heard me. Strip. I’m going to check you for wards.”

  We are not giving everyone a peep show, Julian sputtered.

  Nothing wrong with showing a little skin, Caleb said.

  “I think I would have noticed—”

  Riley’s severe head shake cut him off. “Not always.”

  Still he persisted. “The girls—”

  “Will turn their backs. Stop stalling. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before, you big baby.”

  Aden glanced over at the girls, and sure enough, they’d turned their backs. So, with a sigh and flushed skin, Aden stripped. Riley looked him over. Frowned again. Growled low in his throat.

  “Damn,” he said as Aden hastily dressed. “No wards.”

  “Did you check everywhere?” Victoria asked.

  Meaning his family jewels? Aden’s cheeks flamed.

  “Yeah, I checked there. There are a few more places I need to look, though.” Riley checked behind his ears, in his hairline, under his arms. Still nothing.

  With a push to his shoulders, Aden flopped back into the seat. Riley sat and lifted one of his feet, then the other. Bingo, Aden thought, because Riley was shaking his head and studying both as if they held the secrets of the universe.

  “How?” Aden demanded. “I would have known afterward, even if I wasn’t aware during.” Wouldn’t he? “Walking would have hurt.”

  “No. You were warded twice, and one of them prevents foot pain. After you woke up, you never would have felt a thing.”

  Dear God. There really was a ward for everything. “You mentioned foot pain. What’s the other ward for?”

  “Preventing you from being warded against mind manipulation. Which means whoever warded you wanted your mind malleable. Wanted to control you. Probably has controlled you. And if you’re having memory issues related to your doctor, chances are good that he’s the one who did the warding.”

  Shock swept through him. Shock and fury. How would Hennessy have known to ward him? What’s more… “Why would he do such a thing? What would he have wanted me to do?”

  “We’ll pay him a visit tomorrow and find out.”

  If they were still alive, he didn’t add, but they were all thinking it.

  “As for now, I’m going to negate the mind manipulation ward by smearing the words. Then I’ll give you another antimanipulation ward. Then I’ll give you a ward protecting your wards. That way, he can’t negate ours like we’re doing to his. Warning, though. Not many people want the ward protecting ward because it makes any wards you get now, as well as any you get later, permanent. And if another ward is ever added without your consent… Anyway, with you, with our circumstances, it’s worth the risk.”

  “Thank you.” Aden was still numb with that shock, still on fire from the fury. The dual sensations created havoc inside his head, the souls now equally numb and upset, demanding answers. “Will there still be time for the death-prevention ward?”

  “We’ll make time. Anyway, I’ll leave the anti-foot-pain ward alone. You’re gonna need it.” With that, Riley got back to work.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TUCKER HAD NEWS TO SHARE. News he knew Vlad would hate, but share he would. He had to. His blood vibrated with a need he couldn’t fight.

  Why are you doing this? Stop, his mind screamed.

  Truly, he couldn’t. The need was too strong. He flew across the manicured vampire lawn, bypassing bonsai trees, skirting around black rose bushes. In the center of the property was a wide ring of cement poured in swirls to create an intricate design. Almost like a crop circle he’d once seen on the news. A strange electrical pulse rose from it, and birds and insects stayed as far away as possible. Like I want to do.

  As he had done a thousand times before, he stood in the center of the ring, unnoticed by the few vampires working around him, pulling weeds and digging in the dirt. They saw only the golden sunshine around him because that’s the image he projected at them.

  Perhaps they smelled him, though, because every single one of them straightened and sniffed the air.

  Hurry. Tucker planted his feet inside two grooves of cement. When his heels hit the back of those grooves, the swirls around him began to move. Whirling, inter-locking, separating, twisting. He continued to project sunlight, glaring bright…brighter…until the vampires looked away.

  The center he stood upon began to descend, slowly, slowly, lowering him into the earth, into the darkness. No one would see the opening he left behind; he made sure of it. For a moment, as the sunlight illuminated the yawning pit below, he saw what awaited him.


  Dead bodies littered the hard ground. In fact, when the metal finished lowering, one of those bodies was crunched, bones snapping. The smell…metallic, as if blood had sprayed. Rotten, as if the bodies were already decomposing.

  He wanted to vomit. Was this the fate that awaited him?

  Probably. That didn’t stop him from stepping inside. Without his weight, the platform rose, higher and higher, finally closing the circle above. Darkness swathed him. Such darkness. He reminded himself that when he was ready to return, he had only to flatten his palms in the grooves on the wall, and the ring would open again. Until then…

  “Who are these people?” he whispered.

  Vlad, always awake, never sleeping, heard him. “They were unimportant slaves who outlived their usefulness, and you will dispose of them.” His voice was stronger, far less raspy than it had been during their other meetings. “The sight of them offends me.”

  “Of course.” Tucker didn’t even think about refusing.

  “And you will bring me more.”

  “Yes.” How was he supposed to do that? You’ll find a way. You want to please this man. You have to please this man.

  “Now why are you here? I didn’t summon you yet.”

  Don’t do this. There was his other side, fighting, wanting to live a better, sweeter life, thinking things could be different, pretending he hadn’t used his power of illusion to terrify an innocent family last night, letting them think they were covered in spiders and grinning while they screamed.

  That had always been his favorite trick.

  “Well?”

  “I—I have news.” He told Vlad what he’d seen when he’d used his illusions to sneak inside the mansion. Vampires attacking Aden. Horrible monsters rising from those vampires, protecting Aden. Aden, petting those monsters, cooing to them. Asking them to return to their hosts, watching them obey.

  “How did he not die before the beasts showed themselves?” Vlad asked, and as usual, his mild tone was somehow mind-numbingly frightening.

  Tucker gulped. “He sprayed some kind of liquid on their faces.”

  There was a rustle of clothing. “Liquid? From a ring?”

 

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