Twisted i-3

by Gena Showalter

  Riley ran his tongue over his teeth. “Not another word out of you, demon. Mary Ann?” She’d ditched him to go on the run with her cheating, evil ex. Riley had never been more stunned—or more pissed. “You’ve got witches across the street, fairies here in this building, and both are planning your execution. You can either tell me what’s going on now, or tell me after I kill Tucker.”

  She gulped. “Now is fine.”

  “Good choice.” Man, she was beautiful. Not just quietly pretty, he realized, but drop-dead beautiful. And, yeah, maybe the fact that he’d missed her so much was responsible for the change, but just then she was perfect in every way. Except for the ex. Tucker was an accessory that would not go with any of Mary Ann’s outfits.

  Tucker stood. He wore a T-shirt and a pair of boxers. Both would look so much nicer torn to ribbons. Along with his skin. “You want a piece of me, wolf? Then come and get it. ’Cause your girlfriend sure did earlier.”

  Another gasp left Mary Ann. “You are such a liar! I’ve changed my mind, Riley. We can talk after you kill him,” she added primly.

  He flashed a grin. Until he heard “—wolf is back! What should we do?” The speaker was Jennifer. Through magic, they could watch anyone at any time. Why the hell hadn’t he thought of that?

  “The slaughter will have to wait,” he said. “Grab your stuff. We need to leave. The witches are watching you.” And he needed to do something to stop them.

  “Okay. Yes.” She was pale and trembling as she unfolded from the bed, but her bag was already packed, the same backpack she’d left home with, so the moment she slid her feet into her tennis shoes, she was ready.

  They were racing into the night a second later.

  Tucker, the bastard, followed them. “You’ll need me,” he said, smug again. “If you want to succeed.”

  “Like you did such a good job before,” Riley snapped.

  “She’s alive, isn’t she?”

  No arguing with that.

  “Zip it, both of you,” Mary Ann said, exasperated. “We can yell and threaten each other when we’re safe.”

  He heard her unspoken question: Would they ever be safe? Truly safe? He wanted to reply but zipped his lips as ordered and shifted back to wolf form, the sheet falling away.

  He’d make sure she was safe. Whatever he had to do, he’d make sure.

  NINE

  WHEN ADEN FINISHED PLAYING fetch with the beasts, he asked them to return to their hosts. They snorted and groused, but ultimately they obeyed, wanting so badly to please him. After that, he ordered his people to go about their business and no one—no one—was to disturb him.

  After that, he spent a few hours walking the grounds (pristine), the house (immaculate), listening to gossip (boring) and ignoring the councilmen, who obeyed his edict to leave him alone but who purposely cast their voices his way as they argued about his future marriage plans (not gonna happen).

  They also discussed his coronation ceremony having been canceled because he’d been missing, and then picked a new date, agreeing they could have everything ready in a week. Which, miracle of miracles, was nearly the same date as the ceremony they’d canceled, but whatever.

  He was king, and he didn’t need a coronation to feel the part. Nor did the people need a coronation to follow him. Not after they’d seen what he could do with their beasts.

  And now…now he was weary. He found a shirt, pulled it on and spent the rest of the night in the throne room, the power wafting from the wards woven into the carpet quieting the buzzing in his head, comforting him but not reassuring him. At least no one tried to enter, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

  He wondered where Victoria was and what she was doing. Fine. He didn’t care about either. He just wanted to know who she was doing whatever it was with and kill the guy.

  Victoria was his girlfriend. Right? So, warning other males away with violence was his prerogative. Right?

  He massaged the back of his neck. Something is wrong with you, Riley had said. Victoria had agreed, and now Aden did as well. He was uncaring, cold and murderous, his emotions dying before they had a chance to grow, his thoughts traveling dark, dangerous paths he didn’t understand.

  More than that, he knew things he shouldn’t. Like the names, faults and strengths of vampires he’d never met. Like how blowing the golden horn would summon his allies. Or Vlad’s. He knew his way around this home. Every secret passage, every forgotten hidey-hole. And his desire to start a war with anyone and everyone who opposed his rule? That topped the list of weird.

  He had become someone else.

  How was he supposed to fight this when part of him actually liked the changes?

  By the time the sun rose, he hadn’t yet come up with a decent answer. He was tired, but still too restless to try and sleep. Good thing, too. Being vulnerable in a nest of vipers wasn’t wise. On top of that, his meds were wearing off, and the souls were murmuring inside his head. Nothing distinguishable yet but enough to assure him they were with him still.

  He was relieved—he supposed.

  Mostly, he was hungry. Not for pancakes or cereal or even a bagel, but for blood from a living host. Something else he should care about but didn’t. All he wanted was to feed. And he wanted to do it before the souls woke completely and decided to comment about his new eating habits. Although they might understand and accept, considering what they’d witnessed inside the cave.

  He stood, his bones creaking from the hours of disuse, and finally strode out of the throne room. He waited, expectant, but the buzzing never started up again.

  Two wolves stood sentry at the double doors, one the pure white of a snowflake, the other a rainbow of golds. They followed him as he walked, not even trying to hide their purpose.

  Nathan and Maxwell, Riley’s brothers. Undoubtedly his new guards. He’d met them before, so it wasn’t strange that he knew them. They were good guys, if a bit irreverent.

  One of his feet knocked into the other. See? Those weren’t his thoughts. Nathan and Maxwell were good guys, yeah, but Aden had never considered them irreverent before.

  Younger vampires wandered in every direction, blood-slaves trailing behind them, worship glazing their eyes. That could have been me. In the cave, he’d craved Victoria’s bite more than anything in the world. Had wanted to bite her even more than that.

  The way his gums throbbed and his teeth ached in a sudden chorus of oh, please, now, he still wanted to bite her. Her, and no one else. And he could do so. He was her king. He would bite her. He had only to find her.

  Or not, he realized next. That’s what minions were for.

  Minions? Really?

  Maybe…maybe the only way to fight this strange new part of himself was to do the opposite of what it wanted. He nodded. That made sense. The first hurdle, of course, was Victoria. He yearned to feed from her, therefore he couldn’t feed from her. The second hurdle would be telling her they couldn’t spend any more time together.

  Telling her would require seeing her. A tingle of anticipation swept through him. Deep down, in the part of himself that he did know and did understand, he would cut off an arm to see her.

  “Take me to Victoria,” he commanded the wolves. There would be no sending minions. Not for this.

  Nathan’s ears perked up. Maxwell chomped his teeth at him. Then the pair of them bounded in front of him, a silent demand for him to follow. He did and soon found himself in the backyard. The sun was brighter than usual, and despite the chill in the air, he experienced a rush of burning bristles against his skin. Not enough to send him back inside but just enough to annoy him.

  Aden? Is that you? an unsure male voice asked. Julian, alert at last.

  Aden should have been happy—the soul sounded like himself and hadn’t changed like Aden. Yes, he should have been. “It’s me,” he said, and the wolves stopped to look back at him. He waved them forward.

  Comprehension dawned in their gazes, and they obeyed. Aden wished he could think his replies to th
e souls, but his inner voice was always lost in the chaos.

  Dude! The uncertainty fell away. We’re back with Aden, Julian whooped happily. Are we here to stay, E? Come on, Great Oracle of Doom, and help a guy out. Tell me what I want to hear.

  Silence.

  Elijah must still be sleeping. Caleb, too. Lazy bums.

  The wolves stopped, their spines stiffening, their hair standing on end. They looked around, growling at— Aden followed their line of vision through the surrounding forest—nothing but air. Did they sense a threat he couldn’t see? He waited, but no one stepped from the trees, and not a single leaf swayed from nearby motion. Had some of his—or Vlad’s—allies arrived yet? Would they even come?

  The horn was bespelled and had been for over a thousand years, ever since several vampire factions had agreed to aid each other whenever necessary. And yet, not one of those factions had ever used their horn. Would they remember what the summons meant? Would they care?

  The growling intensified a split second before a woman danced her way into the metal circle that designated the crypt. Aden was hypnotized by her. She wore a black robe like all the vampires here, but a hood draped her head, concealing her features. Still, he could see the long length of hair, black as night and cascading like a waterfall over her shoulder.

  The wolves didn’t stop growling, but they didn’t attack her. They must have been as transfixed as he was.

  Twirling, twirling, mesmerizing.

  There was something familiar about her, something that lit Aden up inside, even as it dragged him down. Whoever she was, she raised the same emotions Mary Ann did. An urge to hug, followed by a need to run.

  “Maxwell, Nathan,” he said.

  They quieted as they looked over their furry shoulders.

  Using minions wasn’t a bad idea, really. “Bring Victoria to me,” he said absently.

  We should stay with you. Nathan’s voice echoed inside his head. There’s danger here, my king.

  Wolves could speak into the minds of those around them. Something Riley had done to him before, so he wasn’t startled. And neither was Julian, who probably couldn’t hear the new voice. “From this woman? No. Now go get Victoria and bring her to me.”

  They shared a confused look before nodding and clomping off.

  He sat down, right there, in front of the circle, watching the woman. She didn’t seem to notice him. Her graceful, twirling steps never faltered. Twirling, twirling, a ballerina on ice, her arms outstretched, one leg lifted behind her and bent. Twirling and twirling.

  Who was she?

  A cough inside his head. Hello, Aden, Elijah finally said, then yawned. How are you feeling?

  “Fine.” Kind of.

  So are we here to stay or what? Julian demanded, practically jumping up and down.

  I…don’t know, the psychic replied.

  O-kay. That was a first.

  Explain yourself, please, Julian huffed. Elijah sighed. I just woke up. Do we have to do the heavy stuff—

  Explain, explain, explain!

  You are such a child. But fine. Aden’s path has been altered so much lately, I can no longer see a clear future for him. He was supposed to die, and that was supposed to be the end of us all. But he didn’t, we didn’t, and now I can’t see what lies ahead.

  Perhaps that was a good thing.

  That better not mean we’re going to die soon. Really die, I mean, Julian replied, and if he’d had a body he would have been pacing. Or that we’re gonna wake up back inside the vamp. I like her and everything, when she’s not going for our jugular, but come on. A guy needs to be a guy.

  Nothing wrong with the vamp, Caleb said, piping up for the first time. Like Elijah, he yawned. No offense, Aden, but she’s hotter than you.

  A milk jug is hotter than our Ad, Julian said with a snicker.

  Caleb snorted. Buuurn.

  “Good. The gang’s all here.”

  Why don’t you sound happy? Julian asked, pouting now. More important question—why didn’t you laugh at my amazing joke?

  And why are you so…cold inside? Caleb asked. Seriously, it’s like a meat locker in here.

  Meat locker? When his skin felt molten? “I’m fine. And I don’t know.”

  I might. What do you remember about your last hour inside that cave with Victoria? Elijah asked. Think for a minute, okay, then you can go back to doing whatever it is you’re doing.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Please. Just do what I told you.

  Not an answer, but fine. Whatever. “All right.” Arguing required too much energy. So he thought about it, replaying the events through his head. He’d just bitten Victoria. Just drank from her. She’d just bitten and drunk from him. That hadn’t been enough for either of them. They’d fought, tossing each other around like rag dolls, both lost to a hunger that never seemed to be satisfied.

  The dancing woman laughed, and Aden wanted to look at her, to see her face softened by humor, but forced himself to concentrate, thinking back…back. The cave. Victoria. The fighting had stopped, and they’d faced off. She’d…glowed. Yes, he remembered now. A glorious golden glow had seeped from her pores, so bright he hadn’t been able to look at her. Seeing it, Chompers had gone crazy inside his head, wanting out, desperate to protect him, sensing a predator far stronger than himself was about to be unleashed.

  Then, Chompers had gotten his wish. He’d emerged from Aden’s body, solidified into dragon form and attacked. Aden had shouted, racing forward, afraid for his girl, willing to throw himself in front of Victoria to save her from being clamped between those too-strong jaws. Only, Victoria had stretched out her hands. The glow had lanced away from her body and into Chompers, knocking him backward, pinning him to the cave wall.

  Victoria had turned her attention to Aden. Again the glow had lanced from her, then slammed into him. He, too, had been thrown backward, pinned on the opposite side, as far away from Chompers as possible. She had closed the distance between them.

  Her eyes, usually blue, had then been filled with lavender ice chips and devoid of any emotion. She’d looked him over from head to toe, taking his measure.

  A pause. Aden had tried to breathe, couldn’t breathe. The energy, or whatever she’d thrown at him, had been tightening its hold on him, shoving his ribs into his lungs, piercing the membrane. Pain had shot through him.

  “Victoria,” Aden had gasped out.

  She’d blinked at him, as if she’d heard him but hadn’t quite understood him. “Victoria.”

  She’d opened her mouth to speak. Had spoken. He’d heard the words. Or should have. The sounds she’d made, they’d been—

  Enough! Elijah shouted inside Aden’s head, drowning out everything else.

  Aden sucked in a breath, suddenly back in the present, the past fading, gone.

  That’s enough, Elijah said again, calm this time.

  “You wanted me to think back,” Aden said, confused. “I did. You should have let the scene play until the end.” He wanted to know what Victoria had said—and who had been speaking through her. Because that had not been her voice. Too raw, too guttural. Too animalistic.

  What are you talking about? What scene? I didn’t see anything, Julian groused.

  Me, either, Caleb said. What happened?

  Nothing, Elijah lied. Leave it alone, Aden. You saw all that you needed to see. Frankly, I didn’t expect you to remember that much.

  Another lie? Elijah never lied. What was going on? “Then why did you have me think back?”

  I just wanted you to know that Victoria didn’t hurt you on purpose.

  Was that why he’d been wondering if he even liked her? Because of something she’d done in the cave? Something he couldn’t remember? Or hadn’t yet remembered.

  He pursed his lips. His past was there, all of it, every memory accessible, but those memories weren’t the main focus of his mind. He had to actively consider something—like what had happened in the cave—before the event crystallized.
>
  After all the blood exchanges, Victoria left pieces of herself inside you. Her past, her thoughts and desires. Or rather, former thoughts and desires. They seem like yours now.

  “That can’t be right. Earlier I wondered if I even liked her.”

  And once upon a time, she didn’t like herself.

  “I want to kill her father. She loved her father.”

  She’s wanted to harm him many times over the past few decades. He wasn’t always nice to her, you know. But Aden? You’re still here, too. The desire to harm him could very well spring from deep inside you.

  Pieces of Victoria’s psyche. Inside him. Driving him, changing him. Right or wrong? True or false? “How do you know this?”

  I’m all-knowing, remember? The self-deprecating tone held a layer of truth and dread. “Not anymore. Remember?”

  The dancing woman stopped, laughed, such a tinkling sound—he loved that sound, hated that sound—and pushed back her hood to look directly at him. Her face was lovely, delicate and hauntingly sweet.

  “There you are, my darling. What are you doing, sitting so far away? Come and dance with me.”

  Darling? Oh, yes, he knew her. Should know her, but still couldn’t quite place her. His brain kept getting caught up on the words mother and exasperating. She wasn’t his mother—was she?—and he wasn’t sure why she exasperated him.

  “I don’t know how to dance,” he told her.

  “I’ll take the blame, I swear.”

  He blinked in confusion. She wanted to take the blame for his lack of skill?

  If you get up and dance right now, I’ll never forgive you, Caleb said. You’ll look like an idiot, and in turn make us look like idiots.

  You’re unwillingness to groove surprises me, C-man. Julian chuckled. Flailing around would probably look like some kind of mating ritual, luring the ladies. Or something.

  Aden. Dude. If you’re thinking about dancing, you should just get up and dance. Caleb’s abrupt switch was almost comical. It’s all about the bump and grind.