Twisted i-3

by Gena Showalter

“I don’t.” But why not tell him the rest? Wasn’t like Aden had been doing anything wrong. “However, she was bespelled, and I need to break that spell. To break it, I need to know what spell was used.”

  “You can’t tell?” Asked with the same intonation Joe might have used speaking to a special needs kid.

  At least he hadn’t called Aden a liar. “You can?”

  “Wait. You can time travel into people’s pasts, you’re apparently king of the vampires and wolves, and you can’t hear the echo of the spell cast? Can’t feel the vibe of its magic?”

  Again with the special needs voice. “You can?” he repeated. “Wait. Don’t tell me. You have a ward for that, too.”

  A shake of his blond head. “Practice.” Then, “Why do you care about this woman anyway? She’s nothing to you.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Hey, now, Julian snapped.

  Joe frowned. “Then why—”

  “I don’t,” he went on, “but one of the souls inside my head does.”

  Okay, then. I can respect that.

  “The souls. Of course. You always did love them best.” Joe turned to Tonya. “Be a dear and fetch me a pen and paper, darlin’. All right?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, slurring the words. “Pen and paper.” She stood and stumbled off, unconcerned, unwitting and in a lot of danger.

  Victoria made a play to follow her, but Joe shook the gun “no-no” as if he were shaking his head, and she remained in place. “Aren’t you afraid she’ll run?”

  “No,” was all the man said. “The drug opens her mind to suggestion. She’ll do only what she’s told.”

  Perhaps not the wisest thing to admit.

  Victoria studied him for a moment. “You know, you’re worse than my father, and I didn’t think that was possible. He used to whip me with a cat-o’-nine-tails, you know. Just for fun.”

  “Yeah, and who’s your father, honey?”

  Aden squeezed her knee in another bid for silence. Much as Joe hated the creatures of the otherworld, he might try and punish Victoria for her origins or even the sins of others.

  Joe offered him a small smile, content to let the mystery of her pass. “You picked a damaged girl with daddy issues. I guess we’re more alike than I ever thought possible.”

  What was he saying? That Aden’s mother was damaged? That she, too, had daddy issues? So badly he wanted to ask. Despite everything, he was hungry for information about his mother.

  The few times he’d allowed himself to think about her, he’d wondered what she looked like, if she’d been as eager to give him away as Joe had been, or if she’d wanted to keep him. Where was she now? What was she doing?

  Was she the woman Riley and Mary Ann had seen with Joe that day in his truck?

  “Don’t ask,” Joe said stiffly, sensing the direction of his thoughts.

  He opened his mouth to do just that, but Tonya returned with the commanded paper and pen and handed them to Joe before reclaiming her seat beside him. Joe balanced the notepad on his thigh and began writing, his other hand never leaving the gun. When he finished he tore off the paper and slapped it against the coffee table.

  His gaze met Aden’s, familiar and once again blank. “Now you can’t say I’ve never helped you.”

  Do NOT react.

  He couldn’t stop his heart from pounding in surprise or Junior’s consequent slamming against his skull. He slanted his head to the side, motioning to the paper. “What’s that?”

  “Ms. Smart’s ticket to free will.”

  Truth or lie? Either way, “Father of the Year award, meet Joe Stone. Or not.”

  Frowning, Joe leaned into the human. “Tonya, you’re going to be a good girl, sit still and listen to Aden. You’re going to do what he says, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. I will do what he says.”

  Those eyes lasered into Aden. “Spells are unbreakable unless the caster leaves himself a safe word, I guess is the best way to describe it. I can hear the spell this Daniel person cast inside my head, and he absolutely left himself a way out. Probably in case he stopped loving her and wanted to be rid of her. Or punish her. Or hurt her. There’s always a reason, but those I can’t interpret. Anyway, the words on the paper are her way out.”

  He would not thank the man. Too little, too late.

  “Don’t try to find me, Aden, and don’t try to find your mother. I’m sure your friends told you about the toys they found in the house. Yes, you have a little sister. No, you cannot see her. She’s not like you, and you’ll only bring her pain and suffering.”

  Yeah, they’d told him about the girl, but hearing the words—little sister—and once again realizing he’d never get to see her, hold her, beat up the boys who hurt her feelings, well, Aden hadn’t cried the two times he’d been stabbed, but he wanted to cry now.

  “That’s why I’m here,” Joe went on, uncaring of the injuries he inflicted. “To tell you nothing good will ever come of your search for them.”

  Bang, bang. Junior, against his skull,

  Easy. Easy now.

  “You didn’t kill me, and I didn’t kill you,” Joe said. “Let’s leave it at that and parts ways. Forever.”

  “At least give him a picture of his mother, his sister,” Victoria said, sympathetic to Aden in a way only she could be.

  “No. Cutting all ties is best. Believe me.” With that, Joe stood and strode from the living room. Though he did pause in the arched doorway for several heartbeats, as if he had something more to say, but in the end, he didn’t. He left, the front door slamming shut behind him.

  How could Joe do that to him? Let him go like that? Again. The most disturbing question of all, though—what would life have been like if Joe had actually loved him and kept him around? If Joe had trained him?

  Junior nearly busted his eardrums with his next screech.

  Calm, steady.

  Tonya remained in her seat, unaffected.

  Victoria threw her arms around him, settled herself in his lap and hugged him tight. “I’m so sorry. He doesn’t deserve you.”

  Words she’d probably said to herself—or Riley had said to her—after her own father had broken her heart. Aden held her, letting her comfort him as only she was able, breathing her in, loving her scent, his mouth watering for a taste, not letting himself have a taste or think about tasting, not letting himself bite her but simply luxuriating in what she offered. Finally he calmed the rest of the way, and so did Junior.

  Aden, please, Julian was saying.

  Julian. His friend. Whom he would help, no matter the destruction to himself. He kissed Victoria on the temple, settled her on the couch, grabbed the paper, read it and stood. As he closed the distance between himself and Tonya, his hand fisted, crinkling the words. This was supposed to work?

  He crouched in front of her. “Look at me, Tonya.”

  She obeyed without hesitation.

  Will this work? Julian asked. This has to work.

  Aden wasn’t sure what his father had proposed, something so simple, so easy a freaking caveman could do it—too much TV?—would do anything more than embarrass him, but he said, “Tonya Smart, your heart is your own. Your soul is your own. Love may whither, love may die, but your truth will set you free.”

  She blinked down at him.

  Why hasn’t anything happened? Julian again.

  “She’s still drugged,” Victoria said. “Maybe that’s preventing her from showing a reaction.”

  “Fight your way from the drug’s influence,” Aden said, and just as before, she obeyed. Not because she’d been told to obey him, but because he’d used his vampire voice.

  Her gaze cleared of that glassy sheen, revealing the shadows churning so violently behind them. A scream ripped from her, her entire body bowing, shaking her chair, then hunching over. She shook, she moaned, she writhed, her fingers gnarling.

  Aden backed away from her, unsure how to help her.

  Make it stop, Julian begged.

 
“I can’t.” All he could do was watch, horrified, as those shadows seeped through her pores, rising from her, enveloping her in a dark mist and screams, so many screams, echoing through the room.

  Her screams? The ones she’d trapped inside herself, every time the spell forced her to do something against her will?

  Aden returned to Victoria—and the movement must have scared the shadows or something, because they shot up and out, disappearing through the ceiling. Leaving silence, such heavy silence.

  Tonya sagged against her seat, slid to the floor and lay there panting. She was drenched with sweat, tears pouring down her cheeks, her skin flushed a deep red. “I…he…oh, dear Lord!” Sobs racked her entire body as she curled into herself.

  Victoria slipped forward and reached out. Tonya caught the motion from the corner of her eye and reared backward.

  “Don’t touch me! Get out! Get out of my house! I hate you. I hate you all. I hate him. Hate, hate, hate.” The sobs intensified, nearly choking her.

  “Julian…Robert,” Aden said. “Is there anything you want me to tell her?”

  A pause. Then, No. She wouldn’t listen now, and besides, I don’t know what I’d say. I don’t love her as I once did, I just couldn’t let her rot in the prison Daniel had built for her. She’s free, Julian said. She’s really free, and that’s all that matters.

  With every word, his voice had become softer, quieter.

  He was leaving, Aden realized, fighting a cry of his own. Just like that, without any other warning. Don’t go. I’m not ready. He held the words inside himself. No reason to burden Julian with them. “How—how much time do you have left?”

  Not long. A whisper now.

  Victoria linked their fingers. “Aden?”

  “Come on.” He was shaking as he led her out of the house. He could have teleported them, but he was too emotionally messed up and wasn’t sure where they’d land.

  Cold air blustered around him, a storm clearly brewing. The sky was gray, the clouds bulky. The scenery fit his mood perfectly. He got them to a thick crop of trees before he dropped to his knees. “Julian?”

  Still here. And I want you to know… I love you, Aden. Weaker still.

  “I love you, too.” So much.

  Thank you for everything. You were a great host, and I will never forget you.

  Once again he wanted to shout, Don’t go, but he didn’t. He’d just lost Joe—not that he wanted to be a part of Joe’s life—but to lose Julian, too? Here and now, like this? His eyes were like twin coals just pulled from a fire.

  “You were a great friend to me.”

  Julian, Elijah said, sad and happy all at once. Aden understood. He was sad for himself but happy for his friend. We will never forget you, either.

  Dude, Caleb said. I knew you were the one with the comb-over.

  Julian laughed. I love you, guys. Even when you were being a pain in my ass.

  Caleb was the one to laugh this time. You might want to rephrase that. You don’t have an ass.

  “I’m going to miss you,” Aden said softly. His chin trembled so violently, he barely got the words out.

  Would it be gay if we attempted a four-way hug? Julian asked.

  Yes, Caleb answered. How about a mental slap on the back, instead?

  Another laugh, this one so weak Aden had to strain to hear it. Yep, even when you’re a pain.

  “Just…if you see her, tell Eve we said hi.”

  I will.

  I bet she’s a babe, Caleb said, his amusement gone. Like everyone else, he was fighting with his emotions.

  Julian snorted. I can’t believe this is goodbye for us. Can’t believe I’ll never see you again. Never hear Caleb being perverted, or Elijah bringing down the party or you Aden, the most honorable, loving person I’ve ever met, finding his way into the light. I’m no psychic, but great things are in store for you, my friend. I know it.

  The burning migrated to his cheeks, a wet tide, unstoppable. “We’ll see each other again.” Believing otherwise would kill him.

  I love you so much, Julian said again, and then, just like that, he was gone. Aden felt the absence of him all the way to his bones.

  Another goodbye he hadn’t been prepared for.

  He remained just as he was and let the tears flow. Victoria wound her arm around him and cried with him. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

  When they both quieted, she whispered, “Let’s find Riley and Mary Ann and go home, Aden.”

  “Yes. Home.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  “WHAT DID YOU DO to yourself?”

  They were the first words Mary Ann had heard her father say in weeks—or what felt like an eternity—and she knew they were a precursor to all kinds of trouble.

  She sat in the passenger seat of his sedan. He’d bailed her out of jail, or whatever. She wasn’t really sure what had happened, only that she’d been cuffed, driven to the Tulsa P.D. headquarters downtown, stashed and questioned in a room for hours—not that she’d answered anything—and then uncuffed and ushered to her dad. Who hadn’t spoken a word to her until now.

  Since she hadn’t given the cops his name and number, she could only assume Riley had. A reunion she’d wanted to both thank and slap him for.

  The moment she’d seen her dad, she’d nearly run to him and thrown her arms around him. Anything to comfort him. As Penny had told her, he looked like hell. Bruises under his eyes, lines of tension branching from his mouth. His clothes, wrinkled and stained with coffee. But she hadn’t let herself hug him, too afraid the strength of her riotous emotions would cause her new wards to fail and she’d start draining him, human though he was.

  Rationally she knew that wouldn’t happen, but fear…well, fear was illogical and all-consuming.

  “Mary Ann! I’m talking to you. You take off without any warning, without calling, and I’m left worrying to death about you. Searching for you, begging the police for help, putting out flyers, and you’re out there with that…that…” Fury crackled from him, so much fury his fingers nearly bent the steering wheel in half.

  Guilt filled her, but she said, “We can’t leave Riley there. We have to go back.” She’d said it a thousand times before, but he’d ignored her each time. Riley could take care of himself, she knew that. Still. Leaving him behind felt wrong. Even though he’d purposely gotten them arrested.

  She knew that now, too. What she didn’t know was why. And there was a reason. With Riley, there was always a reason. The next time she saw him, she would find out. Because right now, all she could think was that he’d wanted to get out of a painful, we’re-breaking-up talk. Except that wasn’t his style.

  “Please, Dad,” she added. “Go back.”

  At least he didn’t ignore her this time. “We can leave him, and we will leave him. I don’t give a flying fig about your delinquent boyfriend. That boy is an outlaw who lives by no rules but his own, and who knows if he follows those even half the time. He stole a car, Mary Ann. While you were with him! And you should start praying those are wash-off tattoos on your arms.”

  The guilt intensified. “I…I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? You’re sorry? That’s all you have to say to me?”

  “Dad—”

  “No. Be quiet. Are you doing drugs?”

  What did he want? For her to be quiet or to answer? “No. I’m not doing drugs.”

  “Do you expect me to believe you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I don’t. I don’t know who you are anymore. So, guess what? We’re going to find out together. Unquestionably.”

  “What? You’re having me tested?”

  Silence. Silence that cut her up and left her raw. He faced straight ahead.

  Fine. She would ignore him, too. She turned her attention to the window, to the trees whizzing past. To the storm clouds hovering overhead. To the sign—for a town that wasn’t on the way home.

  Mary Ann flattened herself against her seat. Looked back at the sign, then at her
father. Forget ignoring him. “Where are we going?”

  “Clearly, I can’t help you. So I’m taking you somewhere with people who can. No matter how long it takes.”

  Dread washed over her, leaving an icy glaze in its wake. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about a psych evaluation. I’m talking about group therapy. I’m talking about medication, if that’s required. I’m talking about figuring out the root of your problem, whatever it is, and getting my little girl back!”

  “Dad—”

  “No! I don’t want to hear it. I wanted to hear from you for days, then weeks, and I got nothing but silence and worry. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t work. I thought you’d been kidnapped. Thought you were being…raped and tortured. What do I find instead? You were out having fun. That isn’t like you. Which means something’s happened to you. Something you can’t or won’t talk to me about, so I’m going to make you talk to others.”

  The ice thickened, hardened. “Dad, don’t do this. Please, don’t do it.”

  “It’s already done. It’s the only way I could get you released without having to go to court or serve any time.”

  No. No, no, no. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I am.” She couldn’t tell him she’d done it for his own good! He wouldn’t understand, and he wouldn’t accept. More than that, she couldn’t promise him that it wouldn’t happen again. “But you have to trust me in this, okay? You have to—”

  “Trust you? Oh, baby girl. You truly are delusional if you think that’s happening. Trust is earned, and you did nothing but stomp on mine.”

  She had never seen her dad so angry, so hurt; she wouldn’t be able to reach him through her usual means. “I’m not a little girl anymore. You can’t just lock me away without my permission and think—”

  “Legally, you’re not an adult, and yes, I can do anything I want. You’re about to fail the eleventh grade. Why? Because you’re hanging out with the wrong crowd. So, I’ll change your crowd by force.”

  “Dad—”

  He wasn’t done. “Ever since you became friends with that Haden Stone, you’ve been different. Harsher. You dumped your boyfriend to date a criminal.”