Twisted

ELEVEN

MARY ANN WANTED TO SCREAM. In the end, she allowed herself only to snap, “That’s enough. Both of you.”

Ignoring her, Tucker and Riley faced off. Again. After running all night, stealing a car, stealing bleach for her hair—she was still rebelling about that and hadn’t used it—stealing tattoo equipment, breaking into a motel room, commandeering it, she needed a freaking moment of peace before the three of them had to leave and steal another car.

“I can’t believe you want this piece of crap to live,” Riley said.

“Apparently she likes pieces of crap. Look who she’s dating.” Tucker snickered at him.

“I do not like crap.” Geez! They were like children. Feral, rabies-infected children who needed to be put down. “And I was dating him. Was. Not anymore.” Sadly.

Riley growled low in his throat, a definite war cry, looking from Tucker to her, her to Tucker, as if he didn’t know who to be angrier at. Great. That was just great. If he turned that snarl on her, she’d be the one to do a little murdering!

“Just shut up, Tucker, before Riley stops listening to me and finally snacks on your bone marrow. Riley, I believe we have a few things to do before we head out.”

He considered her, the menace draining from him.

“Take off your shirt,” he said, clearly deciding to play nice, “and lie on the bed. And if you sneak a peek, T-man, I will break every bone in your body.”

“Oh, I’ll sneak a peek. I’ll sneak several.” Tucker rubbed his hands together with glee. “And guess what, R-man. There will be one more bone in my body for you to break.”

Gross. Just gross.

Another growl erupted from Riley. He stepped closer to Tucker, only a whisper of air separating them.

Mary Ann jumped between them and shoved, keeping both of her arms extended. A puny effort, but they were kind enough to pretend she could do some damage of her own and remained apart.

Of course, that didn’t stop the verbal sparring.

“Jackass.”

“Pansy.”

“Pervert.”

“Asshole.”

Silence—except for the harshness of Riley’s breathing.

“Very mature,” she said on a sigh.

“What are wards, anyway?” Tucker asked, as if he hadn’t just acted like a baby and Riley wasn’t once again planning his murder.

“Do you not care about the rabid dog about to chew off your face?” she muttered. Before he could answer with something snide, she replied, “Wards are protective spells. That way, the witches have less power over us. Now back off. Both of you.”

“No one can overpower me,” Tucker said, ignoring her demand.

“Underestimating them is a mistake,” she said. “They once cast a death curse over me, Riley and Victoria, and we barely survived.”

“Let’s not forget the witches are viewing you through magic,” Riley said. “We need to get on with this.”

Mary Ann watched Tucker raze a hand through his hair. “I always knew there were other…things out there,” he said. “Different, like me. I just didn’t know it’d be something lame like witches and wolves.”

She arched a brow. Her arms were shaking—note to self: start working out—but she kept them extended. “And demons are cool?”

“Hell, yeah.” Just then, his tone was too cocky. And she knew.

He was lying. For sure. He hated himself. And having heard tidbits of gossip about his abusive father, she knew Tucker hated him, too. “Anyway,” she went on, “once a spell is cast, not even the witches can stop it from being fulfilled. Whatever conditions they set have to be met. Like with the death curse, we had a week to make a meeting. If we failed to appear, or rather, if Aden did, we all died.”

“If Vlad had known you guys were cursed, he would have simply locked Aden away, allowing that week to tick by, rather than siccing me on him. The whole stabbing thing could have been avoided. So really, you guys carry the blame for the past. Had you told people—”

“Riley, Victoria and me would have died.”

Tucker shrugged. “That wouldn’t have been my problem.”

“And now?” Riley demanded. “Are you helping Vlad now?”

“He stopped summoning me after I stabbed Aden, so I took off. I didn’t like helping him, you know. And for the record, I apologized to Aden. Before and after I sliced his heart in two. Cut me some slack.”

Anger had Riley’s eyes snapping with green fire. “You apologized. Oh, well, then. That smoothes everything over.”

“Finally.” Tucker raised his arms, the last sane man in the world. “Someone understands.”

Riley stepped around Mary Ann and shoved the guy. Hard. “I’m sorry.” Shoved again. “Oops. Sorry. My bad. All smoothed? Forgive me?” Another shove.

Tucker took the abuse without striking back. Shocking.

Mary Ann maneuvered them back on track. “I’m not taking off my shirt. Okay? So just stand down, boys. And you can ward my arms, Riley. That’ll work just as well as my back and chest.”

“Fine.” At least he stopped pushing.

Already she had tattoos on her back to protect her against mind manipulation and mortal wounds. Now he wanted to ensure she was protected against another death curse, as well as magical illusions—he’d learned his lesson with Tucker—and pain and panic and spying spells.

“Wait, wait, wait. Back up.” Riley shook his head, the tension draining from him as he faced her. “Your dad will see your arms.”

Yes, she knew that. And that would absolutely matter if she ever planned to see her dad again.

A wave of homesickness hit her, tears suddenly welling in her eyes. She’d been gone only two weeks, but she already missed her dad like crazy. But she had to stay away from him, too. She would not bring a supernatural war to his doorstep.

Rather than offering a reply, however, she sat at the edge of the bed and rolled up her shirtsleeves. “Stop wasting time. Get to work.”

“You really don’t plan on going back, do you?” Tucker asked. For once, his tone was without sarcasm, flip pancy or pure meanness.

“No,” she said flatly. “I don’t. Riley.” She stretched out on the creaking mattress, praying she didn’t leave with bedbugs. Or worse. “Begin.” Or she might chicken out.

He looked her over before closing the distance, kneeling at her side and settling her arm in his lap. Contact. Sizzling, earth-shattering, necessary. Somehow, she maintained a blank expression.

“You’ve changed,” he said.

“In two weeks?” She wanted to snort. She couldn’t. He was right.

“Yeah.” He’d already placed the equipment on the nightstand, the ink ready to go. He lifted the tiny gun and pressed the needle deep. There was a sharp sting, a persistent burn and the buzz of the little motor. Maybe her homesickness had toughened her up—she didn’t even flinch.

“Do you think I’ve changed for the better?” Stop. Don’t pursue this. You might not like what you learn.

“I liked you how you were.”

He sounded bitter. She had to pursue. “Which was weak? Reliant on you?”

“You weren’t weak.”

“Well, I wasn’t strong, either.”

“And you’re strong now?” Ouch. “I’m stronger. So you don’t like me now?” Why are you pursuing this?

“I like you. What I don’t like is the company you keep,” he added loudly.

“This is boring,” Tucker said, pacing at the edge of the bed. “Someone entertain me.”

They ignored him.

“How did you and Tucker hook up?” Riley asked. His touch became more aggressive. “And I don’t mean that in the romantic sense. Unless there’s something you need to tell me. And if that’s the case—”

“It’s not, there’s not,” she rushed to assure him. Things might be over between them, but she didn’t want him to think she’d jumped into something with Tucker. “After stabbing Aden—which I still haven’t forgiven him for—” she said just as loudly as Riley had “—Tucker came looking for me. He saw me leave my house with a bag and followed me.”

“I followed you. You did everything in your power to lose me. Him, you kept around.” Yep. That was bitterness, pure and fervent. More than that, “him” had been said with so much disgust, Riley could have been discussing a case of raging diarrhea.

In his mind, he probably was.

“Yeah,” she said, tone softening, “but I care about hurting you.”

“Nice, Mary Ann,” Tucker said dryly. “Real nice.”

They ignored him.

Riley paused. Set the ink gun aside, and reached for her. His fingers traced over her jaw, caressing. Mary Ann didn’t mean to, but she leaned into the familiar, calloused touch, her eyes closing. Just then, they were the only two people in the world.

She breathed him in, pretending she was normal, he was normal, everything was normal. That wild, earthy scent of his reminded her of the outdoors, and she wished for more, was desperate for more—until she remembered what had happened to the last creatures of the night she’d encountered and couldn’t pretend anymore.

They’d convulsed, their skin paling…paling…until they’d become chalk white, resembling painted Halloween decorations. Bruises had formed under their eyes, their lips had chapped, and they’d screamed. And screamed and screamed and screamed, the pain too much to bear.

“Mary Ann.”

She must have stiffened. Her eyelids sprang apart, and she saw that Riley was frowning with concern. Concern. No, no, no. “Did I hurt you?” she asked in a rush. Had she drained him, even a little?

“I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me.”

The concern had been for her, then. She relaxed, but only slightly. Why did he have to be so wonderful? “You’d tell me if I did?”

“Of course. I’m not the suffer-in-silence type.”

No, he wasn’t. Something she’d always loved about him.

“How are you?” he asked. “Are you…feeding properly?”

“Not yet. I’ve been living off my immense overindulgence, but the full feeling is fading,” she admitted. “I’ll be hungry very soon.”

“Very soon isn’t now. We have time.”

Time together, he was saying. Time before she had to start worrying.

When would he learn? She always worried. “Just finish the wards,” she said on a sigh.

“All right. But this conversation isn’t over.”

Yeah, it was, but she didn’t comment, and a few hours later, she was the proud owner of six new wards.

“Sexy,” Tucker said, wiggling his brows at her.

“Do you want me to pluck out your eyes?” Riley snapped as he dismantled the equipment and stuffed it into a bag.

“Fine.” Tucker held up his hands, all innocence. “She looks disgusting.”

Disgusting? “Thanks a lot, you traitor.”

Tucker shrugged, unapologetic. “We tried dating, we failed. Therefore I know not to put my eggs in your basket. If I do, they’ll be met with a hammer.”

Okay. Were eggs a metaphor for his balls? Because that was disgusting. Still, it had Riley nodding, genuinely happy for the first time all day.

“You’re not putting your eggs in my basket, either,” she informed him.

He, too, shrugged. “You’ll change your mind.”

“Just…keep your lips away from me!” If he kissed her, she’d cave, she always did. His mouth weakened her, and that was that.

He gave her a secret smile, one that promised he’d be all over her when they were alone. And she’d like it. She shivered. No being alone with the wolf!

“I didn’t say anything about kissing you. Did I?”

“Sick, just sick.” Tucker pretended to gag. “Stop flirting in front of the innocent bystander.”

“I doubt you’ve ever been innocent,” she said dryly.

“And don’t you have somewhere to be?” Riley demanded. “Like with your pregnant girlfriend?”

Penny. Mary Ann hadn’t yet called her today and wondered if the girl was still hunched over a toilet, vomiting out her guts.

For the first time since Tucker had stepped in front of Mary Ann, begging her to let him help her so that he could make up for what he’d done to Aden, claiming he only felt “right” when he was with her, that he could fight his darker urges as long as he kept her close, he appeared utterly defeated.

“Penny will find happiness without me,” he said without emotion.

“Well, her—your—baby won’t. He’ll be part demon, and Pen needs help raising him.”

His defeated pallor washed away with the flush of longing.

Did he…could he really…love Penny and want the baby? Maybe some part of him did. But maybe he also knew being with them would destroy them in ways leaving them alone wouldn’t. His dark nature might cause him to do things he would regret for the rest of his life.

Mary Ann knew the feeling. Being without Riley was killing her. She missed him a little more every day—even missed him while he was beside her—but she would do anything, anything, to keep him safe.

“So, are you done with Mary Ann? Tell me you’re done. Because I’m ready for my turn,” Tucker said, rubbing his hands together a second time.

Riley snorted. “Yeah. Right.”

“Hey, I don’t want to be cursed, either. And as I’m a valued member of this team.”

“Our definition of valued must differ.”

Tucker popped his jaw. “Just like our definition for shifter must differ. To you it probably means one who can change shapes. To me it just means asshole.”

“How about I ward you with permanent impotence?” Riley withdrew the gun and shook it at him. “How about that?”

“Unnecessarily cruel, wolf. I’m hurt. Really.” Tucker wiped pretend tears from his eyes. “Those witches and fairies are hot, and if I’m captured by one of them, I need to be in working order. You remember how I like to work, don’t you, Mary Ann?”

Oh, no. He wasn’t dragging her into this. “We never had sex, and you know it.”

“You were too busy nailing everyone else,” Riley snarled at him.

“Yeah, like your mom,” Tucker said.

“My mother is dead.”

There was a beat of silence. “Yeah, like your dad,” Tucker said without an ounce of remorse.

Actually, Riley’s dad was dead, too. No reason to mention that aloud, allowing Tucker to come up with someone else he could have nailed. “You two are such…guys,” she said, standing.

“He’s a guy.” Riley shrugged. “For the most part.”

Tucker’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying? The rest of me is a girl?”

“Hey.” Riley held up his hands, palms out, in a mimic of Tucker’s earlier profession of innocence. “I’m not the one who admitted to nailing a dude.”

“That was a lie, Fido. An insult to your parents that you’re clearly too dumb to get.”

“Can we go now?” Mary Ann asked before they could fight. Again.

“Yes,” Riley said at the same time Tucker said, “What ever.”

Thankfully they traveled the fifteen miles to Dr. Daniel Smart’s former residence without incident. She would have preferred to go alone, but hey. At five, she’d wanted a pony. She’d learned to live with disappointment.

No one answered the door after a bout of hard knocking from Riley, followed by an equally hard bout of knocking from Tucker, as if even that was a competition, but their little group of dysfunction didn’t leave. They sat on the porch swing, Mary Ann the meat in a testosterone sandwich, and waited.

She’d checked the county records, and Dr. Smart’s wife still owned this place. So, Tonya Smart hadn’t changed the name on the deed, which most likely meant she hadn’t remarried.

Maybe she’d rented it out, though. Maybe she wasn’t here because she worked weekends. Maybe she would take one look at Mary Ann and tell her to get lost. She definitely wouldn’t want to answer questions akin to, “Was your husband a weirdo who could raise the dead?” But Mary Ann was going to try.

The sun shone brightly, clouds floating by and obscuring the golden rays every few minutes. Mist formed in front of her face every time she breathed. As she unrolled her shirtsleeves for added warmth, she asked, “How’s Aden?” ashamed for not asking sooner. In her defense, he was the reason she was here.

“Recovering,” was all Riley said. “No thanks to Tuck.”

“Can you just let it go?” Tucker snapped. “I said I was sorry.”

“Absolutely I can let it go. The day you’re dead.”

Mary Ann pinched the bridge of her nose, certain her head would explode by the end of the day. She had never wanted to become a referee, but that’s what they had reduced her to. Next go-round, she was going to demand a paycheck!

After two hours of the back-and-forth insults, her headache was more of an enemy than the witches and the fairies, and she was very close to convincing herself Tonya Smart couldn’t help her. Of course, that’s when she heard the purr of a car motor, the crunch of tires coming up the drive.

Mary Ann hopped to her feet. Her butt had fallen asleep, and the abrupt movement awakened it with a vengeance.

“Let me do the talking,” she told the boys.

“What are you going to say?” Tucker asked.

“Just watch and learn, demon,” Riley said. “She’ll say the right thing, that’s what.”

Tucker pouted. “You told him your plan, but didn’t tell me?”

“No. He just trusts me. Now zip it.” She hadn’t told either one of them because she hadn’t yet figured out what angle to pursue. But this was crunch time. She had to figure it out now.

Ms. Smart emerged from the vehicle. She was in her mid-fifties, with light brown hair, a trim form, her clothes neat and tidy. She was pretty in a motherly way, and at one time, she’d probably been beautiful.

She carried a sack of groceries and smiled warmly as she approached. Mary Ann wished she could see her eyes, but they were hidden behind sunglasses.

“Can I help you?”

She was human, Mary Ann thought, surprised her mind now worked that way. Nowadays, the first time she met someone new, she immediately sized them up.

“Her aura is black,” Riley muttered, and he sounded confused.

What exactly did that mean? No time to ask. “Yes, you can help me. My name is Mary Ann. You’re Tonya Smart, right?”

“Right,” she replied, just a bit hesitant now.

Finally. A break. “I’m just…well, my mother died the same day as your husband.” Was she really going there, right from the beginning? “In the same hospital.” Yep. She was. “She gave birth to me, and…that was it. The end.” How stupid did she sound?

Some of the warmth faded, wariness taking its place. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry for yours, as well.”

Ms. Smart nodded in acknowledgment, shifting the grocery sack to her other arm. Her gaze must have skidded over the boys, because the wariness became laced with fear. “Why are you telling me this? Why are you here?”

“We won’t hurt you,” Mary Ann assured her. “The boys can leave if they bother you. In fact,” she said, glancing at them, “go. Now.”

Though Riley looked like he wanted to protest, he reached out, grabbed Tucker by the shirt collar and dragged him away. They didn’t go far, stopping under a large oak in the front yard.

“So which one are you dating?” Ms. Smart asked.

“Neither. The dark-haired one. Neither,” she added.

Smart laughed, relaxing once more. “Oh, to be young again.”

Mary Ann found herself studying the boys. Riley, with his dark hair and rough, fighter face, resembled a devil. Tucker, with his pale hair and innocent features, resembled an angel. Yet, personality-wise, the opposite was true. Doesn’t matter right now.

She returned her focus to the woman and cleared her throat. “One of my friends was born that same day in the same hospital. St. Mary’s,” she added, in case Ms. Smart thought she was lying. Proof was in the details, after all. “He’s looking for his parents.”

Confusion flittered across that aging face. “And you think my Daniel could be his father?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s just, my friend…and me…we…can do…things. Weird things.” From the corner of her eye, she could see Riley fighting the urge to close the distance and sweep her away. She shouldn’t be admitting this. To anyone. Especially not to a virtual stranger who might mention what she’d said to the wrong people. People who could come after Mary Ann and Aden. There was no other way, however.

Besides, she’d done her homework. Daniel Smart had to be Julian. The pieces just fit. “I wondered if…”

“What?” Smart insisted.

“I wondered if Mr. Smart could do…weird things, too.”

A heavy pause, then, “Weird things. Like what?”

She couldn’t say it. She just couldn’t.

“Never mind,” Smart said a split second later, her voice cold. “I want you to leave. Don’t come here again.”

“Please, Mrs. Smart. This is a matter of life and death.”

The older woman pounded up the stairs and skidded around Mary Ann. At the mention of death, however, she paused at the door. Without facing Mary Ann, she whispered, “Are you trying to…raise someone?”

Raise someone—from the dead. She knew. She really knew! Someone ignorant of what Julian could do would not have known to ask that kind of question. Mary Ann wanted to whoop. “No, no, I promise you. Nothing like that.” By sheer will alone, she managed to remain sedate. “I’m just trying to find the person who could…raise something. A person who died the same day I was born. Someone who might have…passed that ability to someone else.”

If Daniel Smart was Julian, his last wish might have been to talk with this woman. Tossing out these half truths as she was, Mary Ann risked alienating her, but she couldn’t just spill the entire truth, either. Not yet.

Silence. More of that dreadful silence.

Then, “My Daniel couldn’t do what you’re asking.”

“Oh.” She’d been so certain. Maybe…maybe Smart was lying. There simply wasn’t another explanation for what Mary Ann had read.

“But his brother could,” the woman finished.

Okay. There was another explanation.

“He disappeared that night, too, and hasn’t been heard from since. Now please. Leave. And remember what I told you. Don’t come back here. You’re not welcome.”