Gena Showalter - Intertwined 02

by Unraveled (Gr 9 up)

  No longer pretending at calm, Vlad had sounded furious. “Y-yes.”

  “And how did he win the loyalty of the beasts?”

  “I don’t know. No one knew.”

  Before the last word left Tucker’s mouth, Vlad was screaming. He must have been stomping around, ripping up stones and tossing them into the walls, because Tucker heard the grind of rock against rock, felt the rumble of the earth as everything around him shook and cracked.

  He clutched at his ears, but it was too late. Warm blood leaked, that high-pitched scream having busted his eardrums. Sharp pain exploded through his head before lancing through the rest of him.

  For once, the desire to flee outweighed his desire to please and he stumbled to the wall, feeling for the grooves. But a strong hand clamped on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

  THIS MIGHT JUST BE her last day on earth, Mary Ann thought, then chided herself for such a morbid outlook. Now that she’d fed from the witch, she felt better, stronger than ever before. No way she’d simply drop dead. She hoped. But she felt guilty, too, as she remembered how the witch had cursed and screamed at her, then wilted, silent.

  How could I have done that to her?

  And how could she return to the cabin? But she was returning, as soon as Riley finished tattooing her. Aden planned to possess the girl’s body and try to time-travel into her past. Maybe…maybe Mary Ann would remain outside during the attempt. That way, she wouldn’t take anything else from the poor girl.

  Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what she’d do, she decided. Victoria would simply assume Mary Ann was a coward, afraid to face so powerful a creature even though she had been warded.

  The wards. Ugh. Mary Ann frowned. Unlike Aden, she hadn’t wanted her tattoos on her chest. She hadn’t wanted to see them every day, to know they were permanent, a part of her forever.

  So, she’d removed her shirt—blushing like crazy and thankful she’d worn a pretty bra, even if Riley had seen it the night before—and given Riley her back. And dear God, getting them hurt. Like having fire poured straight into her bloodstream.

  “All done,” Riley finally said. He sounded pleased.

  She pushed to her feet, grabbed her shirt and strode to the full-length mirror in the corner. Twisting, she saw two beautifully elaborate tattoos. One would protect her from mind manipulation, just as Aden had chosen, and one would protect her from mortal wounds. At least physical ones.

  That second one wouldn’t help if, say, her heart suddenly stopped because of the death spell, but Riley had insisted on that one, so that one she had picked. And it hadn’t sizzled and disappeared, so obviously physical harm—like a stabbing—wasn’t the way the death spell would kill her.

  Apparently, for wards of that magnitude, the tattoo had to be bigger, so the second ward stretched from one shoulder blade to the other. God, her dad was going to die. After he murdered her, of course.

  She pulled the tee over her head, wincing against the sharp sting as the material rubbed her sensitive skin.

  “Ready?” Victoria held out one delicate hand.

  She nodded and twined their fingers. A second later, the vampire had her teleported to the outside of the cabin. Victoria disappeared without a word, returned a few seconds later with Aden, disappeared again, then returned a few seconds later with Riley. She was getting better at the teleporting thing.

  “Let’s do this,” Aden said, his urgency catching like a virus. Everyone but Mary Ann pounded up the stairs.

  “I’m staying out here,” she announced.

  They stopped, looked at her.

  Mary Ann studied Aden, and she couldn’t help but wonder if this would be one of the last times she saw him. You have to stop thinking like that. He was such a beautiful boy. He was a natural blond, but he dyed his hair black. His eyes were multicolored, blue, green, gray and brown, each representing a soul, as well as Aden himself, and when those colors blended, his eyes looked completely black.

  He was as tall as Riley and just as muscled. Where Riley was ruggedly appealing, dangerous, Aden was model handsome. His lashes were long and cast spiky shadows over his cheeks. His lips were perfectly pink and soft-looking.

  “Everything okay?” he asked her, frowning with concern.

  She loved him like a brother, and when she left this group, she was going to miss him terribly. “I just think it’s better if I stay out here,” she said as Riley said, “Mary Ann’s not feeling well.”

  They shared a smile, though neither of them was amused. Last night, after he’d realized beyond any doubt that she was a Drainer, he had fallen silent. He had held her while she absorbed the witch’s power, strengthening, and then, after Victoria returned them to his room, he had gotten back into bed with her. Still without saying a word. She hadn’t spoken, either, though.

  She doubted either of them had slept. They’d simply lain in each other’s arms, knowing their time together would one day end.

  With a sigh, she returned her attention to Aden. She stepped up, reached out and clasped his hand. His skin was warm, callused. “Good luck,” she said, “and be careful.”

  He squeezed her fingers. “Always.”

  “You were feeling fine a moment ago,” Victoria said with a frown of her own. “Are you…afraid? You shouldn’t be. You’re protected now.”

  “Only against certain things.”

  “Oh.” Victoria shook her head, long dark hair waving around her arms. She was a beautiful girl, the perfect match to perfect Aden. Pale, flawless skin, lips of the deepest scarlet. Eyes of sapphire blue. No wonder Aden had fallen for her so quickly and so hard. “I see,” she said.

  But she didn’t. Her expression had coward written all over it, just as Mary Ann had known it would. That was okay, though. This was better than Victoria knowing the truth—and trying to kill her.

  So many death threats, she thought. And that she wasn’t running, screaming for help, proved just how far she’d come.

  Victoria and Aden turned and strode into the cabin. Riley remained with her for a few seconds, watching as the pair disappeared.

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured him.

  “I know.”

  It was the first time he’d spoken directly to her today, and she relished the sound of his voice.

  “Are you nervous?” he asked. “About tomorrow?”

  She opted not to lie to him. “Yes. It just doesn’t feel real, though. You know? I’m fine. I feel fine. How can I die?”

  “I know,” he said again. “I regret that we weren’t…together last night.”

  Just then, so did she. She regretted so many things. She should have spent more time with her dad. Should have forgiven him sooner for how he’d lied about her mother. He wouldn’t recover if he lost Mary Ann, too. He would be alone, no one there to look out for him.

  She couldn’t leave him like that. He might blame himself, tormented by thoughts that he could have done something to save her.

  “I was trying to do the right thing,” Riley said, bringing her back to the present. “For you.”

  “I know,” she was the one to say this time. “We’ve had a wild few weeks, haven’t we?”

  “We certainly have.”

  “And I’m sorry, I really am. You wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for me.” If she hadn’t met Aden, she wouldn’t have met Riley, and if she hadn’t met Riley, she wouldn’t have spent every spare moment of her time with him, binding them closer and closer together, changing the course of his life.

  “Hey. Don’t talk like that. The one thing I don’t regret is meeting you,” he said gruffly. “Never that.”

  To be honest, she didn’t either. He was one of the best things to have ever happened to her. No matter how this thing ended, she couldn’t regret meeting him.

  From inside the cabin, the witch cursed. At least she’d recovered from Mary Ann’s draining enough to do so.

  Riley sighed wearily. “I better get in there.”

  “Okay. I’ll be he
re.”

  He leaned down and pressed a swift kiss to her lips, then strode up the rest of the steps and into the cabin, leaving her alone. Suddenly feeling just as weary as he’d sounded, she settled on the bottom step, elbows resting on her knees, chin resting on her upraised palms.

  The sun was bright, throwing orange-gold spots in her line of vision, and the air warmer than it had been in weeks. She—her thoughts skidded to a halt as, in the distance, limbs rubbed together and brittle leaves crunched. She straightened, gaze homing in. Soon, a familiar face and form came into view. A boy. A football player. Tucker, her ex. He lifted a hand in a brief wave.

  Mary Ann was on her feet before she realized she’d moved, mouth opening and closing, heart pounding. She raced to him, praying he wouldn’t bolt. The closer she came to him, the more clearly she saw him. He was so pallid she could see the blue tracery of veins beneath his skin. When they’d dated, he’d been beautifully tanned. Now his face was gaunt, as if he’d lost weight. His sandy hair was matted to his head, and his clothes were wrinkled and stained, ill-fitting. Torn, as if he’d recently been in a fight.

  The moment she was within touching distance, she saw the scars. Small, round, side by side. Punctures. From vampires. They’d healed quickly—too quickly—no longer scabs, as they should have been, since very little time had passed since he’d been served up as an hors d’oeuvre at the Vampire Ball, but already scars. On his neck, his arms, even his face. No, wait. There was a fresh pair of punctures on his neck, beads of blood still leaking.

  Not so long ago, she’d hated this boy for cheating on her. Then she’d seen him strapped to a table, near death. Her hate had drained, pity and fear taking their place. Just then, that pity and fear intensified.

  “Tucker,” she said. “How did you find us? And what are you doing here? You should be in a hospital right now.”

  “No. No, I have to warn you.” He grabbed her by the wrist and jerked her deep into the forest, so deep the trees hid them from cabin onlookers. He whirled on her, mouth opening to speak. He stilled, closed his eyes, pressed his lips together. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Peace. I had forgotten how wonderful I would feel, being this close to you again.”

  She gripped his shoulders and shook him. “What’s going on, Tucker? What do you have to warn me about?”

  “Just…give me a minute.” His eyes remained closed. “Please. I didn’t think I’d ever get you alone again, but here you are. Here I am. And it’s better than I could have imagined.”

  He radiated such bliss, she couldn’t deny him. So she stood there, silent, shaking with the force of her curiosity and dread. One minute passed, two. Three, four. An eternity.

  Finally, blessedly, his eyes opened. He frowned. “I shouldn’t be here,” he said. “He’ll probably punish me.” He laughed without humor. “Probably? He’ll destroy me, no question.”

  “Who, Tucker? Talk to me!”

  He licked his cracked lips. “I’ve come this far. I might as well just tell you, right? It’s…” A beam of sunlight hit his face, illuminating the dark circles under his eyes, making him look like the living dead. “It’s…Vlad.” His voice dipped into a tortured whisper.

  “Vlad?” Her brow crinkled in confusion. “Vlad’s dead.”

  He shook his head. “Not anymore. He’s very much alive. He called me while I was in the hospital.”

  “Like, on the phone?”

  “No. Inside my head. He called me, and I went to him. I couldn’t stop myself. He’s underground, in a crypt behind the vampire mansion.”

  “Tucker, I—”

  “No. Listen. He wanted me to watch Aden, to report what he was doing. And I—I did. Have. Will. He’s angry right now, Mary Ann. Very, very angry, and all of that anger is directed at Aden for daring to take his throne.” Tucker’s gaze darkened. “I don’t know what Vlad will do to him, and I don’t know what he’ll command me to do, but you should know that I’ll do it, whatever it is. I won’t be able to help myself.”

  “This is—this is—”

  “True.”

  The implications of this were vast. Too vast. Too frightening. And, she thought, almost more than her already fragile state of mind could bear. “You have to tell the others what’s going on. They’ll—”

  “No. No.” He jerked from her hold, backing away. “I won’t go near them. Not while they can see me, at least.”

  “Tucker, please. They won’t hurt you.” She wouldn’t let them. “You have to tell them everything Vlad has said to you. Everything he’s asked you to do and everything you’ve told him.”

  “No.” He gave another shake of his head. “You don’t understand. When I’m with you, I feel good. Normal. Happy. I can control myself. But when I’m with the others, I…can’t. I do bad things.”

  “I’ll be with you. I won’t leave your side. I swear!”

  “Doesn’t matter. Not when you’re with them.”

  “Tucker. Please.”

  “I’m sorry, Mary Ann. So sorry. Consider yourself warned.” He turned on his heel and ran off as fast as his feet would carry him.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  ADEN STOOD IN FRONT OF THE witch. She was sitting in the same chair as before, only she’d scooted herself across the room as she’d screamed about a drainer. She wore a blindfold, but this one was a different color than the one she’d worn before. Had she managed to destroy the other one? Why else would someone switch them?

  Her ties were different, too. Had she tried to escape? Almost succeeded?

  She was paler than before, her skin almost…yellow. Her cheeks were more hollowed. There was a brittle quality to her hair now, as though the strands had lost their shine and had dried into hay. Before she’d hummed with power. Now…not so much. She could have been a human.

  The wolves had been caring for her, feeding her, that kind of thing. But she had to be uncomfortable. Miserable, actually. And he felt bad about that. He really did. He didn’t like that she was suffering, bored, stiff, uncertain, scared, but more than that, he didn’t like that his friends could die because of her and her kind.

  “I’m not here to hurt you,” he told her gently. “I’m not going to drain you of anything.”

  Her panting breaths echoed between them. “You’re the Summoner.” Even her voice was different. Weaker. Raspier.

  “Yes.” If only he could tame witches with the same ease he tamed flesh-hungry beasts, none of this would have been necessary. “What are you so afraid of being drained of?”

  Don’t engage her, Elijah instructed. Just do your job.

  “Your blood?” he found himself adding.

  Good going. Dryly uttered.

  “As if you don’t know someone among you can and has—”

  Riley entered the small room and propped himself against the closed door, snarling, “Quiet, witch. We gave you a chance to share. You refused. Now, you can deal with whatever’s done to you.”

  Caleb, highly agitated since seeing the witch in such a weakened condition, prowled through Aden’s head, huffing, puffing, and now growling at the wolf. She can talk if she wants to talk! Aden, man, you can’t leave her like that. You have to save her.

  What’s with you? Julian asked. Save her?

  Look at her. She’s sick. She needs help. I know I helped come up with our current plan, but that was before I saw her like this.

  “We’ll save her,” Aden muttered. “After.” So let’s get this done. He glanced up. Victoria stood across from him, behind the witch. “Ready?” he mouthed.

  She nodded, expression tight with nerves.

  “Save who?” the witch demanded. “Me? Well, that’s not going to save you. Not after everything you’ve done.”

  Aden! You wouldn’t tolerate this kind of thing if your vampire girlfriend was the one tied up, Caleb said, unwilling to give up. Let the witch go. Now. Please.

  Why do you care so much about this witch? Elijah asked. And really, even the others. From the time they approached us and cast
their death spell, you’ve been as drawn to them as they are to Aden.

  I don’t know, was the agonized reply. I just know I don’t want her hurting.

  Aden suspected the witches were part of Caleb’s past. Plus, this witch had stiffened when he’d mentioned a guy who could possess other bodies. “Maybe we can find out,” he said. After all, he kinda needed Caleb’s cooperation for this. And he had promised to discover who the souls had been when they’d lived. He’d promised to help them with their final wish, to send them on, even if he would miss them terribly, even if he now wanted to keep them. “When we’re inside, we’ll search for information about you.”

  “Inside?” the witch asked, struggling against her bonds. “What are you planning? What the hell are you planning? If you hurt me, my sisters will hunt you down and curse you with pain, such terrible pain. They’ll curse your family, too! Do you hear me?” Her chair rattled, bouncing up and down with her motions.

  “I already told you, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. But really, she’d already threatened to punish him no matter what happened, so her newest threat missed its mark.

  I don’t know about this, Caleb said. What if we change her past? What if that change destroys her?

  “We’ll be careful, but we have to do this. Tick-tock on the deadline, you know? There’s no other way.”

  A pause, then, Fine. Do it. But don’t injure her in any way.

  Aden took offense to that. “As if I would.” Not purposely. “You know me better than that.”

  “Know you better than what?” the witch snapped.

  Time to act. Reaching out, he removed her blindfold. She blinked against the bright light of the room, eyes watering, nose wrinkling, lips pursing. Aden cupped her chin and forced her attention on his face.

  “Relax.” The moment their gazes met, Caleb took over, Aden’s body dissolving and slipping into the witch’s. He expected pain, had braced himself against it, but there wasn’t even a flicker of discomfort. Maybe, after everything that had happened to him, his pain threshold had increased. Or maybe Caleb was getting better at this. Maybe Caleb had done everything in his power to keep Aden from feeling pain because, if Aden had felt it, the witch also would have felt it the moment they linked to her, whether she was aware of the link or not.