Intertwined

CHAPTER 7

I saw her. Saw the girl.

Me, too.

Did you recognize her? I know I’ve seen her before.

Sorry, Eve, but I didn’t.

Aden wanted to scream. There was too much noise in his head, so much he could barely process it. The glide of wind against the trees, the high-pitched chirps of nearby birds. The buzz of locusts, the song of the crickets. The croaks of the frogs.

Grunting, he forced the wolf’s big body into motion. It was hard, moving his front legs in sync with his back legs, but he managed it, only stumbling a few times. He’d never overtaken the form of an animal before and wasn’t sure he was doing it right. But there was no time to stop and ponder how to go about it. If he didn’t hurry, he would be late. And if he was late, Dan would not allow him to attend school tomorrow.

How did you do that? the wolf snarled, his voice joining the clamor of the others. Get out of my head! Out of my body!

The creature knew he was there. Could feel him. That had never happened before, either. He would have thought the animal’s more primitive mind unable to process the human language. For the most part, at least.

I’m not an animal, curse you.

What are you? he thought.

Wolf. Man. Werewolf. Now get out of me!

A…shape-shifter?

Aden hadn’t known such things existed. Not in reality. Considering what he himself could do, he probably should have. Made him wonder what else was out there. Legends told of vampires, dragons, monsters and all kinds of other creatures.

Out! Now!

Even with those infuriated snarls, the run soon proved to be invigorating. Strengthening. Air danced through his fur, caressing all the way to the hair shaft. His gaze plowed the distance as though it were insignificant, taking in every detail, nothing missed. Colors were more vivid, and dust motes…wow. They were like snowflakes, glittering all around him.

I’ll rip out your throat for this.

Still he kept moving, warm air sawing in and out of his nose. His lungs expanded, holding more oxygen than he was used to. It spurred him into a faster sprint, nails clawing at the ground. Scents were strong, nearly overpowering. Pine and dirt, a dead animal a few yards away. A deer, he somehow knew. He could hear the flies buzzing around the carcass.

I’ll bathe in your blood, human. That is not a threat but a promise.

Again, the wolf’s threats—promises—blended with that of his still-chattering companions. Caleb was apologizing for flinging him inside the body, Eve was asking about Mary Ann, concerned for her, and Julian and Elijah were begging him to be careful. Why hadn’t Mary Ann sent them into that black hole this time? Aden had approached her, yet he’d still heard them. And he’d known thanks to Elijah—the soul’s power had to be increasing as he’d suspected—that if he failed to stop the wolf, the creature would stalk her through this very forest one day, racing after her as she cried.

Mary Ann…

What would she think of him now? She knew he was different, that he could do things others could not. There was no denying it after what had happened. Maybe she would understand. She had spoken to the wolf, after all. Maybe, like Aden, she knew things that others did not. That would also explain how she was—sometimes—able to quiet the voices.

— vision is changing. He’s going to hurt you the moment you exit his body, Elijah was saying. Kill you.

Yeah, Aden knew that. He also knew he’d be too weak to defend himself. There was only one thing he could do to save himself. He’d done it before, when he’d entered the body of a kid attacking him. He hated to do it, but there was no other way.

When the ranch came into view, he finally slowed, then stopped at the edge of the trees.

You can’t stay in here forever. The wolf snarled, and Aden couldn’t stop the sound from emerging. Can you? Can you! Much more, and they would be foaming at the mouth.

Aden glanced around the area, but didn’t see anything that would help him do what needed to be done.

There was another way, he thought with a sigh. He sat on his haunches and extended one back leg. He peered down at it. The muscles were bunched, the fur glistening like black diamonds.

No, Eve said, realizing what was about to happen. Don’t do it.

I have to, Aden thought. His stomach churned with nausea. There was no time to steel himself against the pain he was about to inflict. Forever wouldn’t have been long enough to prepare. He simply bared the wolf’s teeth and, with another vicious snarl, lunged at the leg. Those sharp fangs sank past that muscle and hit bone.

There was a scream inside his head, a grunt, several moans. Everyone felt the bite, the agonizing pain spreading like wildfire, affecting every organ it touched.

What the hell are you doing? the wolf shouted. Stop. Stop!

Maintaining that razored grip, firming his jaw, he jerked back. Warm, metallic-flavored liquid poured into his mouth, down his throat, and wet his fur. He gagged.

More screams, more moans.

Aden panted as the wolf’s body sagged to the grass. The pain was immobilizing, just as he’d intended. Now when he left, he would not be followed or attacked.

It took every ounce of his mental strength to reach out of the animal’s body, insubstantial hand solidifying and gripping the nearest tree root. The grip, though weak, held and he was able to tug himself out.

Aden lay there for a moment, stunned, trying to catch his breath. Move. Move! His human body refused to obey. He was no longer inside that mangled form, but his mind—or his companions—didn’t care. They all knew what had been done and could feel the residual effects. His muscles were clamped down on his bones, holding him immobile.

The silver lining: adrenaline began crashing through him, trying to combat the “pain,” giving him strength. Finally he was able to roll to his side. The wolf, he saw, lay exactly as he’d left him, leg extended, blood coating the wound, his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Aden said, and it was the truth. “I couldn’t allow you to attack me.”

Green eyes glared over at him, glazed with pain and fury.

Aden lumbered to his feet, swayed as a wave of dizziness swept through him. “I have to check in with the head of the house and then I’ll come back with bandages.”

A low howl promised retribution if he returned. Didn’t matter. He was coming back. He stumbled his way to the bunkhouse and climbed through the window to his bedroom. Weak as he was, as little time as he had, he just couldn’t deal with the dregs. All windows here were wired to a security system, but it was only switched on at night. Plus, Aden had long since cut and rewired the one in his room so that it never triggered the alarm (but looked like it would, just in case Dan decided to check.)

He had his own bathroom and downed a glass of water, then washed his face. Thankfully, there was no blood on his shirt, just dirt and grass stains. His face was completely devoid of color, his hair disheveled and laced with twigs.

He stuffed several bandages and a tube of antibiotic cream in a bag and chucked it out the window. He followed it, plucking the twigs from his hair. After he’d hidden it under rocks, he made his way to the main house.

Dan was sitting on the porch, Sophia sleeping at his feet. The window behind him was open, and through it he could hear the sounds of pots and pans banging together. Meg, Mrs. Reeves, was cooking. A peach pie, from the smell of it. Aden’s mouth watered. The peanut butter sandwich he’d had for lunch was only a fond memory right now.

How could Dan betray that woman? Eve asked on a disgusted sigh. She’s a treasure.

Who cares? Caleb exclaimed. We’ve got stuff to do.

Eve huffed. I care. Cheating is wrong.

How bad would it look if he shouted, “Shut up!” Aden wondered.

The moment Dan spotted Aden, he checked his wristwatch and nodded with satisfaction. “Right on time.”

“I’ve been looking for you,” Aden said, trying not to pant from fatigue. “Wanted to tell you how I did.”

“I know how you did. The school called.”

What? Had they complained about—

“Said you aced the tests,” Dan finished.

Thank God. He nodded, knowing he should have been smiling but unable to manage it. He felt as if he were standing center stage, a spotlight trained on him, highlighting the signs of his run with—as—the wolf. Or rather, werewolf. It was weird to think like that, shape-shifter versus animal.

“I’m proud of you, Aden. I hope you know that.”

Throughout his life, he’d disappointed people, confused them, embarrassed them and angered them. Dan’s praise was…nice. “Th-thank you.” How could Dan be so wonderful and yet, as Eve was still grumbling about, so slimy?

“Have you seen Shannon? He hasn’t made it back yet.”

He hadn’t? Where was he? He’d gone ahead of Aden. “I haven’t. I’m sorry. We left the school separately.”

Dan gave his watch another glance.

“Guess I’ll go do my chores now,” Aden said, though he had no intention of starting them until after he saw to the wolf’s care. He managed only one backward step before Dan stopped him.

“Not so fast. I was also told you stayed after school to talk to a girl.”

Aden gulped. Nodded. Someone had clearly been watching him, and he didn’t like it. He only wished he’d felt the heat of their stare; a little warning would have been nice. If Dan forbade him to hang with Mary Ann he would—

“You treated her right?”

That was all the man was concerned with? His shoulders slumped with relief. “Yeah.”

Dan’s head tilted to the side. “Not very talkative today, are you?”

“I’m tired, is all. Nerves kept me up all night.”

“I can understand that. Go on, then. Do your chores and then make an early night of it. I’ll have dinner sent to your room.”

“Thank you,” he found himself saying again. He rushed back to the bunkhouse, but didn’t enter. He grabbed the bag he’d tossed out his window and headed back into the forest, staying in the shadows so that no one would see what he was doing.

The werewolf was gone.

The only sign that he’d been there was the patch of blood, still wet and gleaming in the sunlight. While he didn’t see the animal, he did see Shannon, cut up and bleeding and headed toward Dan.

Stomach once again churning, Aden followed and eavesdropped from a distance.

“They were w-waiting for me. A group of them. Th-they jumped me.”

“Who were they?” Dan asked, his anger clear. “Did you get a good look at them?”

“N-no.”

Aden frowned. Shannon had green eyes; the wolf had green eyes. Shannon was hurt; the wolf had been hurt. Shannon was here now; the wolf was gone. Had he really been jumped or was that a lie to cover something else? An ability most people wouldn’t understand? Shannon hadn’t limped, though, and that leg wound wouldn’t have had time to heal. Would it?

Later, in the barn while they shoveled horse manure, he tried to question Shannon about what had happened, gently trying to steer the conversation toward Mary Ann and wolves to gauge the boy’s reaction. All he received was silence.

ADEN TOSSED AND TURNED for hours, resigned to another sleepless night. His mind was simply too wired. The souls were asleep, finally, so his thoughts were his own—but they weren’t welcome thoughts. All he could hear was the gasp of shock from Mary Ann when he’d inhabited the werewolf’s body. All he could picture was the werewolf, bleeding…dying? Or was Shannon the werewolf, as he suspected? Had he raced into the woods after school, transformed and sprinted back to Mary Ann before Aden could reach him?

If Shannon was the wolf, Shannon now wanted to kill him. Had promised to kill him, actually. He’d have to watch, study and wait. If he could. By now, Mary Ann could have told someone what she’d seen. Most likely she wouldn’t be believed, but with his past…the accusation would ruin him.

He could pack up, he supposed. Head out on his own. He’d done it before, three years ago. Living on the streets had been hard. He’d had no shelter, no food, water or money. He’d tried to steal a guy’s wallet and, unskilled as he’d been, had been caught and hauled back to juvie.

He was smarter now, he told himself. Older. He could survive. For the first time in his life, though, he had something to look forward to, something to anticipate. School, friends…peace. Running away would destroy even the chance of such happiness.

He sighed, closed his eyes.

“Awaken.”

The word whispered through his mind, sultry yet commanding. His eyelids popped open. The girl from the forest stood over him, dark hair falling like a curtain over her shoulders. She hadn’t been there a moment ago, but she was a welcome and beautiful sight.

Was this a replay of a vision? Because he’d seen this before. Her, standing in front of him. Soon she would motion him outside. He would follow.

He inhaled deeply, breathing in her honeysuckle and roses scent. No, no vision. This was real.

He smiled slowly and tried to recall the rest of the details to this particular scene. They would walk to the woods and she would close the distance between them. She would reach up, trace her fingertips down his neck. Would her skin be as hot as he remembered or as cold as it now appeared?

He couldn’t wait to get started. “Where have you been? What—”

“Shh. We do not want to wake the others.”

He pressed his lips together, but couldn’t stop the sudden pounding of his heart. The same black robe draped her, revealing one pale, slender arm. A large opal ring glinted from her left index finger. In the visions, she was always careful not to let that ring touch him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered.

Her eyes narrowed, but he could still see the crystalline glow of them. She doesn’t know you the way you know her, he reminded himself. He had to be careful with his praise.

“Come.” She beckoned him with the crook of a finger and walked—no, floated—to the window. Then, without moving another inch, she seemed to disappear. A breeze brushed over him.

He was standing a second later, his body compelled to obey on a level he didn’t understand. And hadn’t expected. He’d walked in his vision, yes, but he hadn’t realized he would not be the one in control. His feet moved of their own accord, maneuvering him in front of the opened window. Could she possess other bodies? He didn’t sense her inside him, but…maybe.

Not even when he climbed through, his bare feet pressed against the dewy grass, was he able to grasp the reins of control. He didn’t panic, though. He was with Vision Girl. That was all that mattered.

He scanned the area, finally spotting her a few yards ahead, in the line of trees. She hadn’t possessed him, then. But what was she doing to him?

“Come.” Again, she beckoned him with a finger. Again, she seemed to disappear—but not before her gaze raked him from head to toe.

He fought a wave of embarrassment. The only piece of clothing he wore was a pair of boxers. At least they were plain black rather than the red-and-white pair that were covered in Valentine hearts.

What did she think of him?

Part of him felt as though he already knew her, and that part of him was already comfortable with her, already half in love with her. After all, that part of him knew the taste of her lips, had heard the way she sighed his name and felt the way she melted in his arms.

But the rational side of his brain was growing a bit wary. Last time she’d truly spoken to him, she’d wanted to know things he had no answers for. Last time he’d seen her, she’d been with another boy.

The night was cool, the sky painted with clouds. Crickets chirped, and in the distance a dog barked. Both soon quieted, leaving only silence. Utter silence, thick and dark.

Until his companions began to wake up, yawning inside his mind.

Outside? Julian asked sleepily.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Ugh. We’re not running away again, are we? Caleb demanded.

“No.”

Eve sighed with relief. Thank God.

Want to tell us what’s going on, then? Elijah asked.

“We’re living a vision.” Finally, he reached a clearing, foliage surrounding him, hiding him from prying eyes. But where was Vision Girl? Again, there was no longer any sign of her.

“Stop,” she said. Her voice came from behind him and he spun around. And there she was, his beauty. His…killer? She held a dagger in each hand. His daggers. The ones he’d dropped earlier when he’d slipped inside the wolf’s body.

He frowned.

A beam of moonlight peeked through the clouds and swathed her, illuminating the thick blue streaks in her hair—not an illusion caused by the sun, then, as he’d supposed last time he’d seen her—as well as the daggers. Surely she wouldn’t stab him. She looked too innocent in the haze of shadows and gold, dainty, harmless.

“Where’s the boy?” he asked. Now there was someone who wouldn’t mind cutting him up. He hadn’t forgotten the anger that had radiated from the male. “The one I saw you with?”

She remained in place, head tilting to the side. “Had he come tonight, he would have killed you.”

Points to Aden for having figured that out already. “Why?”

“He’s jealous of you. Besides, I’m not supposed to be here and had he known where I was headed, he would have stopped me. I had to come alone.”

A thousand questions seemed to rush through his mind at once. Someone was jealous? Of Aden? Why? And why wasn’t she supposed to be here? In the end, he asked the one he felt had the greatest chance of being answered. “How did you get me here? You spoke and I was forced to obey.”

She lifted a delicate shoulder in a shrug. “A little gift of mine, you could say. These are yours, I believe.” Steps measured, she approached. When she reached him, she stopped and extended the daggers.

Aden was proud of himself. He didn’t flinch or even crouch to attack.

Who is she? Eve asked.

I have another bad feeling, Aden. Elijah sounded panicked all of a sudden. I think you should leave.

“Quiet,” he mumbled.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” the girl snapped. The more she spoke, the more he detected an accent. Not English, but close.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

Confusion washed over her lovely features. She gazed around the forest. “Who, then? We are alone.”

“Myself.” In a roundabout way.

“I see,” she said, but it was clear she didn’t. “Here. Take these.” She placed the weapons in his hands before he could take them…touch her. “I’m sure you will need them in the coming days.”

Nope, she had never meant to hurt him. He looked down at the sharp metal, fingers curling around the hilts. “You aren’t afraid I’ll use them on you?”

A laugh escaped her, the sound like bells tinkling. “It wouldn’t matter if you did. They cannot hurt me.”

Oh, really? “Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but no one can withstand a blade.”

“I can. I cannot be cut.” Absolute confidence radiated from her.

His arms fell to his sides. “Who are you?” What are you? He quashed the second question before it could escape, not wanting to offend her. Again.

Besides, the answer really didn’t matter, he supposed. He was glad she was here, whatever she was.

“My name is Victoria.”

Victoria. He rolled the name through his mind. Soft, lovely. Like her. “I’m Aden.”

“I know,” she said, voice now hard.

“How?”

Again using those slow, measured steps, she circled him. “I’ve been following you for days.”

Days? No way. He’d only seen her that once. You’re not always the most observant of people, he reminded himself. “Why?”

In front of him again, closer than before, almost brushing against him, she said, “You know why.” Her breath was a lick of heat against his skin, like a bonfire on a winter day.

He liked it. A lot. But he would have given anything for actual contact. “I don’t.”

Her gaze met his, as hard as her tone had been. “You called us.”

On the phone? “I couldn’t have. I don’t even have your number.”

“Are you trying to provoke me?”

“No. I honestly didn’t call you.”

She pushed out a frustrated breath. “A week ago, you somehow overwhelmed my people with energy. Energy that was so strong, it left us writhing in pain for hours. Energy that latched onto us and tugged us to you as if we were tethered with rope.”

“I don’t understand. Energy? Sent by me?” A week ago, the only thing he’d done was kill a few corpses and meet Mary Ann.

With the thought, his eyes widened. The first time he’d seen Mary Ann, everything had ceased to exist before the world had seemed to explode in a burst of wind. Could that be what Victoria meant? And what did that mean for him and Mary Ann if it was?

“Who are your people? Where do you live?”

“I was born in Romania,” she said, ignoring his first question. “Wallachia.”

His brow furrowed as he considered her claim. A tutor had once forced him to do a report on Romania. He knew that Wallachia was north of the Danube and south of the Carpathians and that Wallachia was not what the town was now called. He also knew there was no way the wind he and Mary Ann had generated could have reached a place that far away. Right?

“Were you there when the energy hit you?”

“Yes. We move around a lot, but we had just returned to Romania. So what game do you play with us, Aden Stone? Why did you want us here?”

Us? No, he’d only wanted her. “If I was the one to send that energy, it wasn’t intentional,” he said.

She lifted her hand and rested her fingertips just below his ear. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring. Finally. Contact. Her skin was burning hot, static, like lightning. Down her nails raked, gentle, so gentle, stopping at the base of his neck where his pulse hammered.

“Intentional or not,” she said, “my father was angered. And believe me, his anger is a terrifying thing. The stuff of nightmares. He wanted you dead.”

Aden was too entranced by her actions to be scared of her words. “Is that why you brought me here? To kill me?” Then why had she given him the blades? “You’ll understand if I don’t lie down and take it, I’m sure.”

The harshness of his tone must have jarred her because she backed away until she was no longer within easy reach. I should have kept my mouth closed, he thought darkly. What would it take to make her return?

“I said my father wanted you dead,” she admitted softly, gaze falling to the ground. “He no longer does. I convinced him to wait, to study you. We still feel the hum of your power, after all.”

One part of her speech intrigued him more than any other. “Why?”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. He wanted to know why she would seek to help him, a boy she knew nothing about. “You…fascinate me.” Her cheeks brightened with pink. “That was stupid of me to say. Pretend I said something else.”

“I can’t,” he said. Nor did he want to. “You fascinate me, too. I’ve thought about you since the moment I first saw you.” He didn’t tell her that had been months ago, in a vision. Didn’t tell her that sometimes she’d been the only thing in his life worth living for. “And when you visited me while I was sick…don’t try to deny it,” he added when she opened her mouth. “You took care of me, I know you did. I’ve wanted to spend time with you ever since.”

She shook her head as he spoke, tendrils of hair slapping her face. “We cannot like each other. We cannot become friends.”

“That’s good, because I don’t want to be your friend. I want to be more.” The words rushed from him, unstoppable. What he felt for this girl was different than what he’d ever felt for anyone else. It was more intense, consuming.

Maybe he should have kept that information to himself, as he’d told himself earlier, at least for a little while. But because of Elijah’s death-vision, he knew his days were numbered.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew…” Her eyes narrowed on him. “Do you have any idea of what I am, Aden? Of what my father is?”

“No.” And it didn’t matter. He had four souls trapped in his head. Like he could really complain about someone else’s heritage, whatever it was.

Before he could blink, Victoria was once again in his face, pushing him backward until he slammed into a tree and lost his breath. He’d wanted her near him, but not like this. Not angry.

Her lips pulled back from her teeth, revealing sharp white fangs. “You would be running in terror if you knew.”

Those fangs…“But…you can’t be. You stood in sunlight. I saw you.”

“The older we are, the more the sunlight hurts us. The younger ones like me can stand in it for hours, unaffected.” There at the end, her voice rose. “Do you understand now? We use your people for food. Our mobile meals. Our blood on tap. And if we like that food enough, we drink again and again until that human becomes our blood-slave. But they never become our friends. To care for them is useless, for we will live on while they wither and die.”

He’d wondered what else was out there, and now he knew. “I can’t…I mean…A vampire.”

Suddenly, in his mind, one of Elijah’s visions opened up and he saw Victoria’s head against his shoulder, her teeth in his neck. He saw his knees buckle and his lifeless body fall to the ground. Saw her back away from him, mouth smeared with crimson, horror in her eyes.

He wanted to deny what he was seeing but couldn’t. He’d suspected Elijah’s ability was growing and this proved it. Victoria was here, real and in front of him. She’d led him into this forest, had touched his neck.

One day, Victoria would bite him. Drink from him. It wouldn’t kill him—someone’s knife would do that—but it would leave him helpless.

Could he stop it from happening? Did he want to stop it? Having Victoria in his life had somehow become almost as important to him as breathing.

The vision faded, and Aden blinked, his surroundings coming back into view. He was still in the forest, but Victoria was nowhere to be seen. With a sigh, he made his way back to the house, already knowing he wouldn’t sleep.