Twisted i-3

by Gena Showalter

  “Because they need to remember what their last wish was, and do it. Then, they’ll leave Aden and he’ll be stronger, able to concentrate and defend himself from Vlad.”

  “You really think that will help?”

  “What is this? Twenty questions? Hell, yes, I do.” She had to. Otherwise her friend’s chances were nil.

  Once again Tucker was blinking down at her. “Mary Ann, you just cussed.”

  “Hell isn’t a cuss word.”

  “To me it is.”

  “Why? Because you’re afraid of spending eternity there?”

  Good humor, gone. “Something like that.”

  He looked so sad, she actually felt bad for her waspishness. “Maybe, by the time this is over, I’ll have earned myself a spot right next to you. We can keep each other company while roasting.”

  He barked out a laugh, as she’d hoped, but that earned them another glare from Hush Girl. He flipped HG off and said to Mary Ann, “You wish I’d spend eternity with you. So, you got any leads?”

  “Before you interrupted me—” she paused, waiting for an apology, but of course he didn’t offer one “—I was reading a story about a mortician at the hospital. Dr. Daniel Smart. Apparently he was murdered there. Defense wounds on his arms and legs, as if he’d rolled into a ball to protect himself while someone—” or something “—bit and punched him.”

  “Great story. But what does that have to do with Aden’s souls?”

  “One of them can raise the dead. What if Dr. Smart raised a dead body in the morgue, and it killed him?”

  “But wouldn’t he have raised a dead body before? And if he had, why would he have continued to work there? He would have been in constant danger, and his secret would have gotten out. But it didn’t, which means he didn’t.”

  “Maybe he could control the ability.”

  “Maybe he couldn’t.”

  “I don’t care what you say,” she grumbled, hating that he was right. Again. “This is the best lead I’ve got.”

  “Our definition for the word best differs. Still,” Tucker went on blithely, “it’s worth checking out.”

  “I know.” How irritating! As if she needed his permission. “That’s next on my To Do list.”

  “What about his parents?”

  “Who, Smart’s?”

  Tucker rolled his eyes. “No, moron. Aden’s.”

  “What about them?” Their current address was burning a hole in her pocket. Finding them had been first on that To Do list she’d mentioned, in fact, and she’d already crossed it off with shocking ease. A search engine, a (stolen) credit card Tucker had given her, and boom. Results.

  They were still local; the shame of abandoning their son, when they might have been the only people in the world who could truly help him, hadn’t driven them away. Were they happy with their decision? Regretful?

  She’d debated: call Aden and tell him, or not call Aden? In the end, she’d opted for not. For the moment. He had a lot to deal with right now and if she met with the couple first—fine, spied on them—she could make a more informed decision.

  “Close up for today,” Tucker said, drawing her back into the conversation, “and let’s find a place to sleep. We’ll head out for…” He paused, waiting.

  “Smart’s wife is still here in Tulsa, close to St. Mary’s, the hospital where her husband used to work.” Tulsa, Oklahoma. Which was two hours away from Crossroads, Oklahoma. Two hours away from Riley.

  Not that she’d imagined him driving that stretch of highway a thousand times.

  “Good.” Tucker nodded. “Did you read the man’s obituary?”

  “Yes.”

  “Checked out his family?”

  “As best as I could.” He’d left the wife behind, but no one else had been mentioned.

  “And you have an exact address?”

  “No. I thought I’d drive around until a golden ray of sunlight shined down from the heavens and spotlighted the house.”

  “Sarcasm again. Not your best look.”

  “Then stop asking dumb questions.”

  He sighed, the last sane guy in existence. “We’ll drive there in the morning. Does that work for your timetable?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. He stretched out his hand and waved at her. “Come on.”

  With a sigh of her own, she placed her hand in his. As he stood, he pulled her to her feet. He helped her into her jacket and tugged her out of the microfiche area. Just before they walked into the main library, someone screamed. A girl. Hush Girl, maybe. Fearing the worst, Mary Ann tried to turn around and see what was going on. Tucker threw his arm around her shoulders and forced her attention straight ahead.

  “Believe me. You don’t want to see.”

  No attacking witches or fairies, then. “What did you do?” she whispered fiercely. And she knew he’d done something, the turd.

  “Let’s just say the snake under her desk is trying to converse with her,” he replied with another wicked grin.

  Of course.

  They stepped outside, into the moonlight and cold. She tugged the lapels of her jacket closer and glared up at him. “I thought you couldn’t cast illusions when you were so close to me.”

  His grin widened, and all she could see was straight white teeth flashing down at her in the darkness. She looked away before she gave into the urge to slap him. Repeatedly. Cars whizzed along the street in a zoom, zoom rhythm. No one stood on the sidewalk, and there were no insidious shadows lurking nearby. Searching had become a habit.

  “Well?” she insisted.

  He leaned down, as if sharing a naughty secret. “Let’s just say my skills are going nuclear.”

  Or her ability to mute was fading, she thought suddenly, and her eyes widened. Oh, please, please, please, let her ability be fading. If she stopped muting powers, she might stop draining energy, too. And if she stopped, she could see Riley again. Could kiss him again. Could finally—please, finally—do more. Without worry.

  “Okay, why did that make you so happy?” Tucker asked, suspicious.

  What did he have to be suspicious about? “Nothing.”

  “Liar.”

  “Demon.”

  He cleared his throat as if fighting a laugh. “That’s not really an insult for me, you know.”

  “I know.” She practically skipped along the concrete. Even the thought of safely seeing Riley lightened her mood. “Let’s just enjoy the moment, okay?”

  Tucker had to quicken his step to remain beside her. “What moment?”

  “This moment.”

  “Why? There’s nothing special about it.”

  “There could be if you shut your mouth.”

  This time, he laughed outright. “Remind me why I dated you.”

  “No. I’d only throw up in my mouth.”

  “Nice, Mary Ann,” he said, but he was still grinning.

  “I try.”

  FIVE

  THE SCREAMS THAT HAD RAZED Aden’s mind for such a torturous eternity ceased abruptly, and he knew only silence. Yet, the silence was worse because, without the distraction, he became aware of a thick, gloomy fog surrounding him, writhing with malicious glee.

  Escape, he needed to escape. He would die if he stayed here. Surely the fog would suffocate him. Was even now trying to do so. Determined, he clawed his way through, climbing…climbing…his body broken, throbbing…climbing…climbing…higher and higher until—

  His eyelids sprang apart.

  First thing he noticed, the fog had dissipated. Still, the world around him was hazy, as though smeared with Vaseline. He sucked in a deep breath to center himself, then growled. There was something sweet in the air, and his mouth watered. His blood heated.

  Taste…

  Someone called his name. A girl, her voice layered with concern and relief. He blinked, gradually clearing away the film, and sat up, ignoring the aches and pains shooting through him. His gaze panned the…bedroom. Yes, he was inside a bedroom. Or a snowstorm. All that white—whi
te walls, white carpet, white furnishings—was as overwhelming as it was familiar.

  A girl approached him, her hands wringing together and twisting the fabric of her black robe. Finally, a shade other than white. Long dark hair cascaded over one delicate shoulder. She had pale skin, smooth and flawless, and the loveliest blue eyes he’d ever seen.

  She reached out, slowly, so slow, to feel his brow. The sweetness in the air thickened, and the urge to taste increased. Though he wanted to bite her, he leaned away from her touch.

  Hurt consumed her features.

  Within seconds, she masked the emotion and squared her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re awake,” she said, voice devoid of any emotion as well.

  Fangs peeked from between her lips, he noted. Vampire. She was a vampire. A vampire princess. Her name was Victoria, and she was his girlfriend. The details came at him like they were baseballs being shot from a pitching machine. Yet no reaction accompanied them.

  “How do you feel?” she asked.

  He just looked at her. Feel? His nerve endings had calmed, and he didn’t feel anything.

  She gulped. “You were asleep for nearly four days. We gave you medication to quiet the souls, just in case they were the ones keeping you under.” Chewing on her bottom lip, she glanced over her shoulder. “We didn’t feel we had any other choice.”

  We, she kept saying. Implying someone had helped her.

  “Can we get you anything?”

  We again. Aden panned the room a second time and noticed a guy standing in the far corner. Tall, strong, dark hair, green eyes. Riley. A wolf shape-shifter and an all-around pain in the ass, but he was a good guy nonetheless.

  A human girl stood beside him. How Aden knew she was human, he wasn’t sure. He’d never met her before. She was nervous, moving her weight from one sandaled foot to the other, her short crop of blond hair dancing over her shoulders, her brown eyes looking anywhere but at him, and her freckled skin chalk white.

  Again the sweetness in the air intensified. Except now it was layered with something spicy, and his entire body vibrated with anticipation.

  Anticipation. His first emotion since waking up, and it consumed him.

  “Thirsty,” he croaked.

  Victoria reached out, not to touch him but to offer her wrist. Distantly he recalled drinking from that wrist. His gaze lifted. And from that elegant neck. And that gorgeous mouth. He’d been besieged with need, utterly intoxicated. And he’d hated himself. He recalled that, too.

  Also, he’d hated her. Or at least, a part of him had.

  That part of him must have grown, taken over. Because, looking at her now, so lovely and serene, he wanted to grab her arms and shake her. To hurt her as she’d hurt him. To punish her for what she’d done to him.

  The urges surprised him. What had she done to him? Besides try to turn him into a vampire. Besides feed him and feed from him. Besides fight him to survive. All of which he understood and accepted.

  “Aden?” She wiggled her wrist.

  The moisture in his mouth heated and burned, demanding relief, demanding…blood. He recognized the sensation and was leaning toward her before he registered the fact that he was moving at all. Just before he sank his teeth into her skin, he stopped. What was he doing? He needed blood, yes, but not hers. Hers was dangerous. Addictive.

  Shaking, he pushed her arm away—the part of him that still craved her screamed in protest. Her skin was warm, and though not as hot as before, he tingled where they’d touched all the same. He wanted to be touched again and again and again.

  Focus on the human. “You,” he said, nodding to her. He refused to fall under another girl’s spell. If he did, he might not recover. There was no way anyone would affect him the way Victoria did. Surely. “Do you want to feed me?”

  That dark gaze at last zoomed in on him. “Y-yes.”

  Truth or lie? “Are you nervous?”

  “Of you?” She shook her head with conviction, but her subsequent stuttering contradicted the motion. “N-no.”

  She wasn’t scared of him, but she was scared of something. That wouldn’t stop him. “Good. Come here.”

  Riley and Victoria shared a long, dark look. More than a look, actually. He knew Riley was pushing his thoughts into Victoria’s head, and shrugged. Let them say—or not say—what they wanted. Nothing would change his decided course of action.

  Finally Victoria nodded, moved backward, and the wolf shifter gave the human a little push in Aden’s direction. She scooted around the princess, remaining out of striking distance, and Aden suddenly comprehended the reason for her upset. She feared Victoria.

  Smart of her. Victoria watched her through narrowed eyes, poised to launch into an attack at any second. Were they enemies? No, they couldn’t be. No one was more protective of Victoria than Riley, and the wolf never would have let the human through the door if that had been the case. So…what was the problem?

  Only when the girl was at Aden’s side did she relax. She curtsied, grinned. “What can I do for you, my king?”

  He didn’t allow himself to study his vampire and her reaction to the girl’s query. “Let me have your arm.”

  Instantly she reached out. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist. It was thicker than Victoria’s, with a little more meat under her skin. As hot as Aden’s body temperature now was, the human felt chilled.

  He absorbed her scent, testing it. Sharper than what he craved, he mused, with more spice than sweetness, but he could deal. Already his stomach was twisting, knotting. He urged her closer…opened his mouth…

  “Wait. You’re going to hurt her,” Victoria snapped, beside the girl in the blink of an eye and jerking her from Aden’s hold.

  The human gasped and trembled.

  Aden growled, even as the scent of the vampire stirred up some kind of animal inside him. A wild thing, cohabitating in a place where there was no room for emotion, only instinct honed on a battlefield.

  Mine, that wild thing said.

  Never yours, the other part of him hissed.

  “You don’t have fangs.” Victoria raised her chin. “So, like I said, you’ll hurt her. I’ll bite her and—”

  “I’ll bite her.” Fangs or not, he knew how to feed. Hadn’t he proven that to Victoria, over and over again?

  The memory had his gaze falling to her neck, where her pulse hammered swiftly. The ache in his gums returned. Mine, he thought again. Mine to bite and to drink from and to kiss.

  You don’t even like her. Not anymore.

  “I’ll bite her,” she continued through gritted teeth, “and you can drink from her.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond. She simply lifted and bit.

  The human closed her eyes, moaning as the pleasure hit her. Pleasure Aden knew very well and still craved, despite his determination to remain aloof.

  Vampire fangs produced some kind of drug that numbed your skin and flowed straight into your veins, warming you up, making you feel good, too good. Which was exactly why so many humans became addicted, willing to do anything for another nibbling.

  Not him. Never him. Not again.

  A second passed, then another. Victoria lifted her head. Blood wetted her lips a deep scarlet, and Aden wanted to lick them. Instead, he forced his gaze on the two punctures in the human’s wrist. Blood wetted there, too, and he groaned. What he didn’t do was chastise Victoria for disobeying him. What right do I have to chastise her? He simply claimed the arm offered to him and brought the wound to his mouth.

  He licked once, twice, tasting ambrosia, groaning again, before sucking, letting the nectar fill his mouth, swallowing, his eyes closing in the same surrender the human had experienced. And yet, in the back of his mind, he thought that as wonderful as this blood tasted, it should have tasted better. Should have been sweeter, with only a little hint of that spice.

  “—has no fangs, yet he still craves blood,” Riley was saying as Aden became aware of his surroundings again. “It’s unheard of.”

  “Appare
ntly not,” Victoria snapped. “Look at him. He’s enjoying every moment of this.”

  “Enjoying? His eyes look dead, and have ever since he woke up. Something’s wrong with him.”

  Aden knew they were talking about him, but just as before, he didn’t care.

  “Well, she’s enjoying it, then,” Victoria added, words sharp as a whip. “If I wasn’t holding her back she’d be grinding on him.”

  “Do you want me to deny that?” the wolf muttered. “Because we both know I’d be lying.”

  “You’re a terrible friend.”

  “Whatever. Just don’t kill her afterward. To borrow her, I had to promise Lauren you’d do her laundry for a week. And I had to promise you’d do it forever if any harm came to her slave.”

  “Thanks a lot. You couldn’t have asked Lauren for a male?”

  A tremor rocked the human. Of fear? Or was she still too lost to the pleasure to care, either?

  “I’m only guessing here, but I don’t think humans—even former humans—are like us. They can’t separate feeding from sex. I figured Aden would appreciate a female.”

  “Well, he’s appreciating her too much!”

  Riley arched a brow at Victoria. “Are you jealous, princess?”

  “No. Yes. He’s mine.” A pause. “Well, he was. Now…he pushed me away. Twice. Did you see him push me away?”

  “Yeah, I did, but he loves you, Vic. You know that.”

  “Do I?” she asked softly.

  Did he? Aden wondered. Even though he didn’t like her at the moment? Because, as he knew, you didn’t have to like someone to love them. A lesson he’d learned as a child, when his parents had him committed, then walked away and never looked back.

  He hadn’t liked them, might even have hated them, but even still, he’d loved them. At least at first. But as the days had passed in a medicated haze, as other patients beat him up and called him names, that love had withered, leaving only the hate. Then, the hate, too, had left him, and he simply hadn’t cared. He’d had the souls.

  His souls. Where were his souls? They weren’t chattering, and he couldn’t feel them in the back of his mind. Did Victoria have them?

  No longer was she watching him. Her gaze had moved just over his shoulder, perhaps even outside the room. Her eyes were as blue as before, no longer mixed with green, brown and gray. No, the souls were not inside her head.