Even healthy and whole, he needed every edge he could get. Not just to remain in charge, but to stay alive.
Right now, he had time. Victoria knew her father. Vlad would not return until he was at top strength. Then…well, then there would be a war. Vlad would punish those who’d submitted to Aden’s rule. Herself and Riley included. He would make an example of Aden. And his preferred method of “exampling,” as she’d come to call it, was placing a severed head on a pike and displaying that pike at his front door.
Would Aden fight him? If so, could Aden hope to win?
“How’s Aden?” Riley asked. The wolf could read auras and had probably sensed the direction of her thoughts. “Did he…survive?”
Yes and no. Her stomach twisted into thousands of little knots. She tugged from Riley’s hold, turned and motioned to the bed with a wave of her hand. “Behold. Our king.”
Green eyes narrowed as they lanced to the lump atop the mattress. Five sure steps, and the shifter was at the side of the bed, peering down. Victoria joined him, trying to see Aden as Riley must.
He lay on his back, as motionless as a corpse. His normally bronzed skin was pallid, the blue tracery of his veins evident. His cheeks were hollowed out, his lips chapped and cracked. His hair was soaked with sweat and plastered to his scalp.
“What’s wrong with him?” Riley demanded in a quiet, yet all the harsher for it, tone.
“I don’t know.”
“You know something.”
She gulped. “Well, I think I told you that Tucker stabbed him.”
“Yes, and Tucker will die for that.” A flat, cold statement of fact. “Soon.”
The homicidal confession didn’t surprise her. Retaliation was Riley’s way. Tit for tat, and never anything in between. That way, an enemy never tried to harm you twice. “I wanted to save him—save Aden I mean—so I…I tried to…” Just say it. “Tried to turn him. I told you that, too.”
“And I thought you’d change your mind, see reason.”
“Well, I didn’t. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t… I didn’t want… I did what I had to do to keep him alive!”
“Aden told you the consequences of messing with one of Elijah’s predictions, Vic. The few times he did it, people suffered more than they would have if he’d left them alone.”
Her back went ramrod straight, her nose lifting in the air. “Yes, he did, and no, that didn’t stop me or change my mind. I fed him my blood, every drop I could, drank from him, and then he drank from me. We repeated the process, over and over again.”
“And?”
Of course he knew there was more to the story. Her shoulders sagged. “And…somehow I absorbed his souls inside my head, and he absorbed my beast.”
Riley’s mouth dropped open. “You have the souls?”
“Not anymore. We kept switching back and forth, and we kept drinking from each other, even though we barely had anything left. I thought we would kill each other. We…almost…did.” Her chin trembled, breaking the words apart.
“There’s more. Tell me.” Riley was merciless when he wanted something, and right now he wanted information. He’d warned her she wouldn’t like him if he had to force her to talk, and she took the threat seriously.
“Our last day in the cave, I did something to him. I don’t know what, and it’s killing me! I blacked out, and when I came to, he was like this.”
“You just blacked out? For how long?”
“Yes, and I don’t know.”
“Was he bleeding?”
“No.” Truth. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t injured him internally.
Why couldn’t she remember what happened?
“Why did you bring him here? In this condition, he’s weak and vulnerable. There’s no better time to strike at him. Your people could rise up and finally rid themselves of the human king they never wanted.”
Her nose went back into the air. “I’ve been guarding him, and no one has even tried to enter my room. I think they remember how much their beasts love him.” Every vampire possessed one, and without the wards they etched into their skin, those beasts could emerge, take solid form and attack. And when they attacked, no one, especially not their vampire “master,” was safe.
And yet, those same beasts acted like trained, slobbery house dogs in Aden’s presence, doing everything he commanded, protecting him against any and all threats.
“Or maybe the people haven’t yet realized Aden’s here,” she finished.
“Oh, they realize. Everyone I ran into was on edge. Their beasts want out of them and in here with Aden.”
That she could believe. The precious silence she’d experienced those last minutes in the cave had ended the moment she arrived home. Chompers wanted to move inside Aden’s mind permanently and wasn’t afraid to roar his displeasure about being stuck with Victoria.
After feeding him, she’d had to double up on her wards to quiet him.
“Is Aden now a vampire?” Riley asked.
“No. Yes. I don’t know. Before passing out, he craved blood. My blood.” All of my blood. She kept that little gem to herself. No telling how Riley would react.
He reached out and lifted Aden’s lips from his teeth. “No fangs.”
“No, but his skin…”
“Is like yours?” Frown deepening, Riley unleashed his claws, his nails lengthening and sharpening. Before Victoria could protest, he raked those claws over Aden’s cheek.
“Don’t—”
Not a single wound formed.
“Interesting.” A clear liquid—je la nune—beaded on the end of those claws, and Riley once more sliced at Aden’s cheek. This time, the skin sizzled as it split apart.
“Stop it!” With a screech, Victoria threw herself over Aden’s body, preventing Riley from making another pass at him. Not that he tried.
“You’re right. He has a vampire’s skin,” Riley said.
“Which is what I was trying to tell you!” What she wouldn’t admit, not yet, because she still couldn’t believe it herself, was that she now had human skin. Vulnerable, so easily harmed. Feeding hadn’t reversed the damage, either. She wasn’t sure anything would. “You didn’t need to hurt him like that. The je la nune would burn through a human, too.”
Riley ignored her. “How long has he been like this?”
“Three days.” She sat up, remaining beside Aden, and glared at her bodyguard, daring him to blame her.
“Give me a minute to mentally calculate.” With barely a pause, he added, “Yep, that’s three days too long. Has he fed recently?”
“Yes.” She’d tested every blood-slave she’d allowed him to drink from, then, when she knew they were safe, she’d given him a little at a time to gauge how he would respond. There’d been no reaction, good or bad, so she’d given him more and more, until the blood had practically seeped from his pores. Still there’d been no reaction.
For hours she had debated the wisdom of giving him more of her blood. What if he became addicted again? Then she’d thought, what if he was still addicted, and only her blood could help him?
So, she’d done it. She’d sliced her wrist—and oh, how that had hurt—pouring her blood straight down his throat. The wound had healed slowly for her, swiftly for a human, but Aden had gotten several mouthfuls in the interim. His cheeks had suddenly bloomed with color, and she’d been so hopeful—for both of them. But a few minutes later, the color had withered, then disappeared altogether, and his sleep had become fitful. Too fitful. He’d moaned in pain, writhed and finally vomited.
She explained all of that to Riley.
“Maybe that’s the problem, then,” he said. “Maybe he doesn’t need the blood.”
“I let him go twenty-four hours without it, and he got even worse. He only improved to this comalike state when I started feeding him again.”
A heavy sigh. “All right, here’s what we’re gonna do,” Riley said, taking charge. As always. “I’m gonna post guards at your door. No one
but you and I are to enter this room. Understand?”
“No. Because I’m foolish. News flash, Riley. That’s why I threatened to disembowel anyone who entered.” Well, well. Stress and lack of rest were making her snappy.
He continued, unperturbed, “You’re going to feed him your blood, exactly as you’ve been doing, and you will alert me if there’s a change. Any change. I will go to the D and M ranch and grab his medication.”
The D and M ranch. Aden’s home. Well, perhaps former home now. Troubled teenagers lived there, and it was a last stop on the road to redemption—or damnation. One broken rule, and those teens were kicked out. Leaving without contacting Dan, the owner of that ranch, was probably the biggest no-no of all.
“Victoria, are you listening to me?”
“What? Oh, yes. Sorry.” She was still so easily distracted. “But Aden hates his medication.” And if he wanted back inside that ranch, Victoria would make it happen. A few spoken commands, and the humans there would do and think whatever she wanted them to do and think.
If she still possessed the Voice, she thought with a swirl of dread. She’d lost her ultratough skin and could have lost her ultrapowerful voice, too. Since returning, she had tried to compel a few of the human slaves to do her bidding. They had smiled at her and gone on their way, without doing what she’d told them.
You’re out of practice, that’s all, and still haven’t completely regained your strength.
The pep talk failed to comfort her.
“You’re worse than Aden,” Riley muttered. “And I don’t care if he hates his meds or not. We’ve seen him like this before, minus the need for blood, and the medication was the only thing that helped him. If the souls are responsible, like they were before, we have to knock them out for a little while.”
“But what if the medication hurts him, now that he’s a blood drinker?”
“Doubtful, since human meds don’t really hurt you. But there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”
Good point. One that bothered her. Most everyone in Aden’s life considered him a schizophrenic. Not only had his parents given him up when he was little, but he’d been shuffled from one mental institution to another. Different “cures” had been shoved down his throat for years, and he’d hated them all.
And, really, he liked the souls, loud and obnoxious as they were, and his newest medicinal regimen shut them down entirely. But Riley was right. Aden wouldn’t last much longer in his current state. They had to try something, anything. Everything.
“All right.” She hated that she hadn’t thought of this. If it worked, she could have saved Aden three days of…distress? Pain? Mental torment? Probably a mix of all three. “We’ll try.”
“Good. I’ll be back.” Riley turned on his booted heels and headed for the door.
“Riley.”
He stopped, but didn’t face her.
“Be careful. Thomas’s ghost is still there.” Thomas, the fairy prince Riley and Aden had killed to save her. Now his very nasty ghost haunted the ranch, and he craved vengeance.
“I will.”
“And thank you.” Being here was probably difficult for him. Mary Ann was his love, and knowing him, he was frothing over her disappearance. Was probably frantic to be out there, searching for her. Yet, he stayed because Victoria needed him.
When Aden improved, she would help Riley hunt for Mary Ann, she decided. A danger to her loved ones or not.
A stiff nod, and then Riley was gone, the door closing behind him. Sighing, Victoria turned back to Aden. Her beautiful Aden. What was going on in that head of his? Was he aware of his surroundings? Hurting, as she suspected?
Did he know what she had done to him, those last few minutes in their cave?
She ran her fingers through his hair, lifting the strands and revealing the blond roots. There was a slight curl at the ends, the locks winding around her knuckles. He didn’t lean into her touch as she was used to, and that saddened her.
How much turmoil could one boy endure before he crumbled? Since the moment she’d entered his life, he’d known only war and pain. Because of her, goblin poison had ravaged him. Because of her, the witches had cursed his friends to die. Because of her, the fairies had tried to take over the D and M ranch.
Fine. Maybe all those things weren’t exactly because of her, but she still felt responsible. A humorless laugh escaped her. How human of her. To carry the weight of blame, despite everything. Aden would be so proud.
“You woke up from this kind of thing before,” she whispered. “You will wake up this time, too.” Please.
Unable to bear the thought of separation, she remained where she was until Riley returned a half hour later. He was without his shirt and wearing new pants that weren’t yet fastened. He’d dressed hastily, his other clothes ruined during his shift to wolf, she was sure.
Wolves tended to wear clothing that ripped easily. Because, when they shifted, they were stuck wearing whatever didn’t fall off. And wearing human underwear while in wolf form was something they preferred to avoid.
He carried a small wicker basket filled with medicine, the pill bottles rattling together. Victoria hopped to her feet, and he placed the basket where she’d sat.
“Sorry I took so long.”
“Thomas give you any trouble?”
“Nope. I didn’t even catch a glimpse of him. But then, unlike Aden, I’ve never been able to see or hear the dead. The delay had to do with the pills. I didn’t know which ones to give our boy and didn’t want him to have a reaction to the wrong combination, so I just grabbed the bottles with his name on them, stopped in my room, and Googled.”
What he didn’t say: Mary Ann was the Google queen, and she was the one who’d taught him how to use the search engine. Although, calling it an engine always confused Victoria. There were no workable parts that she could see.
“So, what happened at the ranch?” she asked.
“Here. See for yourself.” He extended his free hand, and she twined their fingers. They’d been together so long, they’d developed a very strong mental connection and were able to “share” their experiences.
As if a television screen were switched on inside her mind with a view straight from Riley’s eyes, she saw Dan, an ex-football star, tall, blond and rugged, standing in the kitchen of the ranch. His wife, petite, pretty Meg, bustled around him, tossing ingredients into a pot.
“—really worried,” Meg was saying.
“Me, too. But Aden’s not the first to run away. He won’t be the last.” While the words were accepting, the tone was not.
“He’s the first to surprise you with his actions, though.”
“Yeah. He’s just such a great kid. All heart.”
Meg’s smile was soft. “And not knowing why he left kills you. I know, baby.”
“I hope he’s okay. Maybe if I’d given him more one-on-one time, he wouldn’t have—”
“No. Don’t you dare do that to yourself. We can’t control the actions of others. All we can do is support them, and pray we make a difference.”
The conversation faded as Riley stealthily maneuvered from the main house and into the bunkhouse behind it. Aden’s friends were there. Seth, Ryder and Shannon lounged on the couch, watching TV. Terry, RJ and Brian were in front of the computer, playing games. Relaxing activities, but there was an undeniable tension radiating from each boy.
They must feel the loss of Aden, too.
I have to fix this, Victoria thought.
Shannon stood, a chalky cast to his mocha skin, his gaze sweeping the room—and clashing with Riley’s.
In the present, Riley released her hand, the images flickering, disappearing, and she was once again inside her bedroom.
“Shannon saw you,” she said.
“Yeah, but he didn’t do anything and I was able to get what we needed without incident.” Riley dug inside the basket, setting aside what he wanted and discarding what he didn’t. “There wasn’t a whole lot of information
, just enough to tell me he needs the antipsychotics. This, this, and this.” As he spoke, he placed the desired pills in her palm.
She studied them. One was yellow and round, one blue and oblong, and one white and scored in the center. These tiny things were supposed to help him when she could not?
“Fetch a glass of water from my bathroom,” she said.
Commands were not something Riley usually responded to, but he didn’t hesitate to obey, soon thrusting the desired glass in her hand. His concern for Aden was as great as hers.
“Lift his head and tilt it back,” she said, and again, Riley jumped to obey.
She pried Aden’s mouth open and set the pills on his tongue. Then she placed the rim of the glass at his mouth and poured. Just a little, but enough. Without looking away, she reached out and set the remaining water on her nightstand. Or tried to. Her aim was off, and the glass thudded and splashed to the floor. She didn’t care. She closed Aden’s mouth with one hand and worked his throat with the other, until all the pills made their way into his stomach.
That done, she straightened and peered down at her patient. “Now what?” she whispered, watching for any kind of response…and not seeing one.
“Now,” Riley said, grim, “we wait.”
FOUR
MARY ANN GRAY SAT AT THE corner desk in the back of the library, reading countless microfiches—the same thing she’d done every night for a week. Days were beginning to blend together, her temples were throbbing, the muscles in her back were knotted, and there were (probably permanent) marks along her butt and thighs that were a perfect match to the scuffs in the freakishly uncomfortable chair she’d commandeered.
According to all the “How To” info she’d read for people on the run, she knew developing a routine was bad. Like flashing a neon arrow just above your head. Problem was, this routine was necessary.
“They close in thirty, you know.”
She flicked an irritated glance at her companion. AKA the boy she couldn’t ditch no matter what she tried. And she’d tried a lot. Dine and dash. The old “wait here, I’ll be right back.” The classic “what’s that over there?” And even brutal honesty—“just leave me alone, I hate you.”
Twisted i-3 Page 4
