Twisted

FIFTEEN

RAIN POURED ALL NIGHT LONG. Rain still poured at dawn and throughout the rest of the day. The sky was as black as an abyss, the clouds so thick Aden wasn’t sure they’d ever dissipate.

At the appropriate time, he made his way to the backyard of his new home. A home he would not give up easily. He stopped at the edge of the warded circle, quivering with energy. He was shirtless, wearing only jeans and boots, already soaked to the bone.

On his finger perched Vlad’s ring, filled with je la nune. At his ankles, his daggers were at the ready. Every vampire living in the home stood outside with him, some holding torches under the awning. Victoria stood with her sisters, wringing her hands together, bathed in flickering firelight.

They hadn’t spoken since she’d left him yesterday. She’d tried, she’d wanted to, but still he’d avoided her. His hunger for her would have deepened, and worse, he would have asked her to betray her brother.

He couldn’t ask her. Not if he wanted to like himself when this was over.

It would be hard to like himself, though, if he was dead.

“Did you feed?” she mouthed.

He gave one clipped shake of his head. No, he hadn’t. He’d tried. A few hours after dismissing the slave she’d sent him, without taking a single drop of blood from the girl, his hunger had overwhelmed him and he’d marched to the slave quarters, an area that was more like a harem than anything, where the humans could roam freely, even though they didn’t want to roam.

As he’d stood there, watching them, listening to their idle chatter, he’d found his hunger actually dwindling. Even though the scent of their blood, the drum-loud beat of their hearts, had tantalized him. He’d left.

On his way to the throne room, where he’d sat and thought in private, again he’d been more interested in the blood of the vampires he’d passed, his hunger returning with a vengeance. Yet he’d opted not to partake, wondering whether he’d spend the next day seeing the world through their eyes rather than his own.

He’d almost hunted Victoria down, almost asked her to feed him. But still he’d avoided her. For all his other reasons and one more. Well, many more, but this one was the most important. She didn’t want to feed him. The knowledge tore him up inside, even if the fault lay entirely with him. After the way he’d treated her…

An animalistic cry reverberated in the back of his mind. One he’d heard before, one he ignored.

He hadn’t gotten to tell Victoria about his encounter with her mother, the dancing woman. He was now certain that was who he’d seen, that he’d watched one of Victoria’s memories come to life. A memory of her mother trying to abscond with her, of Vlad catching them. Of Vlad punishing Victoria while her mother watched. A whipping, each of the cat-o’-nine tails laced with the same liquid in his ring.

By the time her father had finished, her back had reminded him of tattered Christmas ribbons. Vlad would pay for that.

And Aden would be the one to kill him, for real this time. Soon. He just had to take care of Sorin first.

Aden, Elijah said nervously.

“Not another word,” he muttered. “You guys promised.”

I’m sorry, but I only just realized. Only just saw. You need to take your pills. Okay? Please.

“What? Caleb and Julian demanded in unison.

“Saw what?”

Just take your pills. As you know, I’ve seen this fight end with several different outcomes and each one was worse than the last. Well, I just saw another outcome. The images were disjointed and distorted, and I’m not sure I saw things in the proper order, but I think you will walk away from this if you take the pills.

How could that be? “I don’t have them with me.” If he failed to take them, would he have a vision of Victoria’s past, midpunch? Would the souls distract him too much? “Besides, I need your ability.” He needed to know what Sorin planned to do to him before the bastard actually did it. Sorin was going for his head, no question.

Just…send Victoria to get them.

“Why?”

I told you. There’s a very high chance you won’t walk away without them.

A very high chance? “That’s not good enough.”

Okay, let’s look at this from a different angle. You know how cold you’ve been?

“Yes.” Kinda hard to forget.

Well, that’s actually been a lifesaver for you. Right now, strong emotion is your enemy. The pills will help you remain unemotional.

“I don’t understand.”

Yeah, me either, Caleb said.

Just take the pills, Aden, Elijah insisted again. Trust me, emotion is not your friend.

Was anything, anymore? “All right.” Elijah was never wrong. Or rarely wrong, he guessed he had to say now. If Aden needed the pills, he needed the pills. “I’ll—”

Sorin materialized at the edge of the clearing, already marching forward, two of his men holding a banner that stretched over their heads, the rest holding torches of their own. Torches the rain did not affect. They were a collage of shadows and light, menace and redemption.

The wind kicked up, whistling…closer and closer…footsteps…

“It’s too late. I can’t send her now.” He would appear weak. Vulnerable. To vampires, appearance was everything, and if he appeared weak and vulnerable, he would lose this fight even if he won. “We’ll have to find another way to bring home the victory.” Elijah groaned. I was afraid that would happen. Just try to stay calm. No matter what. Okay?

“Okay.” Easily said. Probably impossible to do.

Then Sorin and his men were there, standing just inside the ward, and Aden could see each face clearly—as well as the faces of Seth, Shannon and Ryder, his human friends. They were bound with rope. Prisoners.

To their credit, they didn’t appear to be scared. Seth, with his red-and-black hair dripping into his scowl, just looked pissed. Shannon’s darker skin blended into the shadows, but his eyes…his eyes were so green they glowed. And they were narrowed on Sorin, throwing daggers of hate. Ryder was the calmest of the three. Maybe because he looked shocked to his marrow.

First things first. “Let them go,” Aden demanded. “Now.”

The rain slowed to an icy trickle. Sorin nodded, as if happy to oblige. “Of course I’ll let them go. Their freedom in exchange for the crown. Simple, easy, and you don’t have to die.”

He could accept, but as the new king, Sorin could later kill the boys anyway, and there would be nothing Aden could do to stop him. “Only a coward would offer such a bargain.”

“Is this the part where I erupt into a rage and attack you? Sorry, no rage from me. Call me whatever you like. It doesn’t matter. Very soon everyone here will call me King.”

“Cocky.”

“Confident. But all right. You don’t wish to save your friends. I understand. Callous of you, but let’s see if you’ll relinquish the crown to save your girlfriend.”

During Sorin’s speech, one of his men had snuck through the crowd and closed in on Victoria, grabbing her by the back of the neck and forcing her to her knees. She tried to fight, but her strength was clearly no match for his.

“Before you ask, she can’t teleport away,” Sorin said. “She came to see me last night, and I drugged her drink.”

Victoria trembled and gave her brother a look of cutting betrayal. Aden felt a twinge of betrayal himself. She’d left him and gone to see her brother, might have even told him secrets about Aden.

After the way you treated her, could you blame her? Elijah said.

Way to help me remain calm, he thought darkly. Not that the souls could hear him. “How can you treat her that way?” he asked Sorin. “She’s your sister.”

A negligent shrug. “One thing I’ve learned over the centuries. Everyone is expendable.”

Victoria’s chin trembled, and Aden knew she was fighting tears. He stiffened. No matter what she’d done, no matter what had gone down, he hated the thought of her upset. Strong emotion? Yeah, if anything could cause it, he realized, she could.

Any questions he might have had about his feelings for her were answered in that moment. Aden didn’t just like her, he loved her, and he would do anything to protect her. More than that, he trusted her. She might have gone to see her brother, but she wouldn’t have done anything to jeopardize Aden’s health. Just as, even at his worst, he had not jeopardized hers.

Aden, Elijah began, nervous again.

“No,” he said. No more distractions.

“He’s without his beast,” Victoria called, the last word emerging on a cry of pain. The man must have increased the pressure on her neck.

Elijah cursed as fury sparked to sizzling life inside his chest. In the back of his mind, he heard the plaintive cry of a newborn. Just like before. Only stronger this time, and as angry as he was. The souls began to argue, Caleb and Julian demanding answers, Elijah refusing to give them.

Aden tuned them out as best he could and focused on Sorin. He would pay for Victoria’s pain. In blood. “Swords?” he asked, because that was the method the warrior had chosen in every vision Aden had had of this fight.

A moment passed as Sorin unraveled the meaning of his question. There would be no surrender. They would fight. Surprised flickered in those blue eyes before smoothing into eagerness. “Let’s make it sort of fair. Hand to hand.”

Aden nodded, surprise flooding him. Nothing was happening as he’d seen. What did that mean? What had caused things to change? The fact that he hadn’t taken the pills?

“If anything happens to Victoria or my humans, I’ll kill your men when I’m done with you,” Aden said to Sorin. And he meant it.

“Now who’s the cocky one, hmm?”

“I want your vow. No harm will come to them. Now, during or after. No question, no matter the outcome.”

Sorin nodded. “You have my word.”

The ease with which he offered the concession made Aden think he’d never planned to hurt the foursome. That wasn’t going to save him, not now, but it did defuse the hottest threads of Aden’s fury.

With a shrug, the black robe draping Sorin’s shoulders fell to the ground, leaving him as bare-chested as Aden. Difference was, Sorin’s torso was covered in fresh wards. There was not an inch of pale skin visible. Only black ink on top of black ink, circles on top of circles. Aden briefly wondered what the guy was warded against before clearing his mind. He had to concentrate.

Together they approached the center of the metal ring, then stopped, only a whisper away from each other. Aden had been in more fistfights than he could count, but they’d always been spur-of-the-moment, his mind lost to whatever emotion or insult that had brought him to that point. He’d never coldly, calculatingly planned to brawl like this.

“I think I would have liked you in other circumstances,” Sorin said. Just before drilling his knuckles into Aden’s eye socket.

His arm moved so quickly, Aden registered only a blur before tumbling backward, pain exploding through his head. He managed to remain on his feet as the entire world went silent, black. There was no rain, no crowd, no souls. No…anything. Not even time. He was deaf, dumb and blind, his brain completely shut down.

Aden just stood there, lost, barely breathing, until he saw a sudden flash of white. A return to black. Another flash of white, one that lasted a little longer. Black. White. Black, white, as if someone were playing with a light switch inside his head.

Then he heard a little whoosh of noise, the only precursor to the sudden boom as the world slammed back into focus. He heard, he knew, he saw, but there was no time to react. Sorin was on him, fists pummeling like a jackhammer, over and over again, raining down, never stopping.

Come on, come on. Get in this thing. Using all of his strength, Aden kneed him in the balls. And if Sorin had still possessed his beast, the creature would have come roaring out at exactly that moment in a bid to protect Aden from further damage, because Sorin hunched over and screamed with unholy rage.

The down and dirty action gave Aden a necessary reprieve—and time to jerk his knee up, slamming Sorin under his chin, sending him soaring to his back.

Aden raced to him, intending to pin the guy’s shoulders with his knees and just start whaling, but Sorin pulled up his legs, rolling with Aden’s weight before kicking. This time, Aden was the one to soar to his back. A blink of his swelling eyes, and Sorin was on him.

Punch, punch, punch. “Any time you want to give up, all you have to do is kneel before me and proclaim your loyalty.”

“Go screw yourself,” he managed between blows.

“Original.”

“Appropriate.”

Punch, punch. Several of the bones in his face shattered. His nose might have snapped in half; some of the cartilage definitely shifted to one side. Adrenaline shot through his veins as if he’d injected it, warming him up, strengthening him. But was it enough?

Calm. You have to stay calm.

Elijah’s voice.

Ignored.

With a roar that matched the one in his head, the one growing, growing, growing in volume, Aden threw a punch of his own. Then another and another and another, until Sorin stopped hitting him to save his own face from a battering. A golden opportunity. Aden reached up, grabbed him under the arms and shoved, flipping the warrior over him. He didn’t release his hold, but allowed himself to flip, as well, so that he was finally the one on top.

He spit blood and what looked to be a Chiclet—a tooth! Then he held Sorin’s face with one hand and rained down the fury with the other. Boom, boom, boom, so fast he couldn’t see even the blur. Or maybe his eyesight was too cloudy, his lids desperate to glue together and (hopefully) heal.

To Elijah’s delight, every punch calmed him.

But Sorin didn’t stay down for long and gave another kick. They were thrust apart. Aden slammed into the wall of spectators. Some fell with him, others pushed at him, but he felt the desires of their beasts. The desire to emerge and save him.

“No,” he yelled. “Don’t. Stay.”

They obeyed, none slipping from their hosts and solidifying. How much time before they forgot his command and did as they wished? Probably not much. End this, he had to end this.

Sorin must have felt the same, because they leaped at each other, rolling together, throwing elbows and knees, going for soft spots—nose, throat and groin. Every new punch Aden threw would have fortified the calm, if every punch he received hadn’t fanned the flames back up.

Soon blood was flowing from a gaping cut across Sorin’s hairline. Blood that snared Aden’s attention. Maybe because it was a vampire’s blood. Maybe because it had the same sweet, dark scent as Victoria’s.

Taste…must taste…

As distracted as he was, Sorin managed to knock him sideways. He stumbled into the spectators, and this time he could hear their beasts. Roars, so many roars. Still they remained in their cages, but just barely.

Would have served Sorin right to lose that way. To be humbled by the very beasts he’d mocked Aden for taming. But Aden had a point to prove, or Victoria’s brother would never take him seriously.

Wait. You’re going to let him live? He’d decided to end him, hadn’t he?

Taste…

Aden shoved from the crowd and dove for Sorin. Again they rolled, again they twisted and fought like animals.

“I didn’t want it to end this way, but I’m glad it did.” Sorin bared his fangs and swooped down to bite Aden’s neck.

Only, he couldn’t. His fangs wouldn’t pierce the skin. The warrior was shocked, yes, but reacted as if he’d trained for such a thing. Before Aden could extract himself, Sorin raised his hand and removed the covering of a ring very similar to the one Aden wore. He dribbled the contents over Aden’s neck. The burn was instantaneous, sweeping through his entire body in seconds and engulfing him with flames. Felt like it, anyway.

His throat clogged up, cutting off his air supply. His fury was joined by fear and pain, all three consuming him.

With a snarl, Sorin pinned him, his fangs drilling deep into the wound. Suction. So much suction. Taking the flames and replacing them with ice. No matter how much Aden struggled, he couldn’t dislodge those teeth.

When his struggles slowed, stopped, he knew. He was going to die.

The roaring inside his head increased so much, became so loud, it was all Aden could hear. Roaring, roaring, roaring—quieting now. No, not quieting, he realized hazily. Leaving him. Ripping at his insides. Rising from his head, something sharp shooting from his back. Soon a creature was hovering over him, moving beside him. A black mist, taking shape. A snout, wings, claws. Roaring, roaring, roaring, blending with gasps of terror.

Someone’s beast had escaped.

Sorin was torn from him, fangs practically taking Aden’s trachea with them. He lay there a moment, panting, sweating but cold. He could still win this, he thought. He hadn’t admitted defeat, and he wasn’t yet dead. How could he be, when every muscle and bone he possessed ached? First, though, he had to ensure Victoria’s safety.

Gingerly he sat up, the wound in his neck pulling, stinging. Blood poured down him, washing away in the steady drizzle of rain. Dizziness was a bitch, and a while passed before he could focus. When he did, he saw Victoria, her face pale, her cheeks wet with rain—and tears? Her chin was still trembling. She was no longer on her knees, but her brother’s warrior was still beside her.

Relief speared him. She was okay.

“Aden,” she said, both dazed and frightened. “Your beast.”

Something whizzed through his line of vision, breaking their connection. He looked—and nearly choked on his own tongue. A baby beast, monster, whatever was chasing Sorin around the circle, nipping at him with saber teeth.

Your beast, Victoria had said. That’s what the mist had been. And it had risen from him. The rending of his insides, the sharp sting at his back…yeah, it had come from him.

The beast was smaller than any of the others Aden had seen, but no less fierce. Those wings stretched into razor sharp points. His scales were a glossy gray, like smoked, polished glass. His arms were short and thin but tipped with ivory claws. His hoofed and clawed feet slammed into the ground, disrupting grass and rattling metal.

He’s mine, Aden thought, dazed all over again. He actually came from me.

And he’s what I didn’t want to happen, what I didn’t want any of you to know about, Elijah said on a sigh. He’s been growing inside of you since that last day in the cave. He’s who looked through Victoria’s eyes before slamming into you and rendering you unconscious.

“How?” he managed to say despite his wound, having held the torn skin together.

He was birthed to life inside you with the first blood exchange, then entered Victoria’s mind when we did, growing all the while, then finally stopping the switching altogether.

“Why keep him secret?” Good. His words were getting stronger, clearer.

I didn’t want you or the dynamic duo to panic. Strong emotion was the only thing that could push him out, and yes, I’m purposefully using birthing language because that’s basically what happened, and he wasn’t ready to be pushed out. He’s now, well, a preemie.

Which meant he was…what? Fragile? Vulnerable?

Hungry. He’s very hungry, very determined, and will never be easily controlled. I didn’t want to tell you, but you’ve been battling his nature, as well as Victoria’s. You were doing an excellent job, too. Until this.

So what does this crap mean for us? Caleb asked.

Elijah sighed. The little guy’s had a taste of freedom now. He will never be happy caged.

At least Aden survived the fight, Julian pointed out. You said he’d die without the pills.

No, I said he could die. There’s a difference. A lot of new mothers die giving birth too soon, and that’s what I saw.

Caleb snickered despite the severity of the circumstances. Congrats, Ad. You’re a mom. Why don’t you breast-feed the little guy?

Julian chortled.

Finally the “little guy” captured Sorin and forced him to the ground, holding him by the stomach. And the funny thing: his own beast could have helped him, but he’d come to this fight without the creature.

Now go finish this fight, Elijah said. You’ve been given a golden opportunity. Let’s use it and end this the right way.

Aden stood. Almost fell, but managed to limp over. Grinning, he opened his ring. “Payback.” Je la nune spilled over Sorin’s neck, and his skin sizzled open, blood welling. Aden was careful not to splash the baby beast, who was watching him through starving, savage eyes.

While Sorin grunted from pain, Aden reached out and petted the—his—beast. “Good boy,” he said, scrambling for a name. Chompers Jr., maybe. Junior for short. Yeah, that worked.

Lips pulled back from sharpened teeth as the creature growled at him. Chompers and the others purred when he petted them. Oh, well. At least Junior didn’t release Sorin and snap at Aden.

Aden turned his attention to his opponent and bit hard, sucking back mouthful after mouthful of blood and loving every moment of it. Tasted just like Victoria’s, just as he’d suspected it would. He might never stop, might take every drop, needed every drop. And wouldn’t you know it, his beast purred about that, as if he could taste the blood, too.

Maybe he could. Junior released Sorin and joined Aden, drinking at Sorin’s neck. Sorin bucked once, twice, before stilling.

We have to stop. If we don’t, Sorin will die. He doesn’t need to die. You’ve won.

Elijah again.

Ignored again.

No, he couldn’t ignore the soul. Not this time. The outcome. Important. Victoria. Hate him. Love him. The words sliced through the bloodlust and Aden jolted upright, warmth fizzing over him as if he were showering in soda. Already his wounds were knitting back together. He reached out to Junior, but the little guy snarled at him before shaking Sorin’s neck like a dog with a bone.

You’ll have to wrestle him.

Great. Another fight. Aden dove for him, knocking him down, away from the body and the blood. Wings flapped frantically, and those saber teeth made a play for his face.

A few of Sorin’s warriors rushed forward, clearly intending to help their lord, who lay on his back, as motionless as the dead. “Don’t,” Aden shouted as he struggled to subdue the creature, and they froze. “Leave, everyone leave.” Last thing he needed was for Junior to hurt someone else. Or to be hurt. “And no fighting, or I swear I’ll release this one and end you all. You’ll wait inside.”

Several pounding heartbeats of time passed before footsteps reverberated. Murmurs echoed. Then, only the three of them were left. Sorin, the struggling Junior and Aden. He was surprised at how easily the vampires and wolves had obeyed.

A long while passed like that, so long that the rain stopped. So long that Sorin healed enough to awaken and sit up.

The warrior shook his head, as if clearing cobwebs from his thoughts, then zeroed in on Aden. He could have stood and attacked, but he didn’t. He’d lost. He knew it. Everyone knew it. He watched Aden through narrowed eyes.

“You’re not human,” the warrior accused.

“Not anymore. Hell, maybe not ever.” Along with a beast of his own, he now had the vampire voice and skin. Made him wonder what else had changed—what else he could do.

Miracle of miracles, Junior stilled. He was panting through thick, black nostrils. Aden continued to hold him, cooing soothingly. His eyelids gradually closed, and surprise surprise, Junior had long, curling eyelashes. He appeared almost…cuddly.

Soon his big body went lax, and the panting became snoring. Still Aden held on, not knowing what else to do, knowing only that the beast could awaken any second, start combating him again, and if he wasn’t prepared, he’d be blood-buttered toast.

Then Junior’s body began to fade, fade, until Aden was utterly saturated by the same sizzling black mist that had left him earlier. He sat up, the mist seeping into his pores, his bones, heating him into a high output furnace.

Weirdest. Thing. Ever. His brain basically scrambled with bewilderment. That was…that had been…he had no words.

Sorin was unfazed. “By the way, my beast is bigger than yours.”

“Not for long. Did you see the size of my guy’s feet?”

Massive arms crossed over a massive chest. “Forget the beasts. I’ve got a few things on my mind, Haden Stone.”

Hearing his full name always gave him pause. “Like the fact that you want another go at me? Well, come on. Let’s get this over with. Because I am not going to let you come back for seconds at a later date. You either serve me now, or you die now. Those are your only two options.”

“I wasn’t thinking of attacking,” the warrior said, standing carefully. He wobbled on his feet, walked over and held out a hand. “I was thinking I will never live this down. I was thinking we should have fought with swords. I was thinking…I want to help you up. King.” O-kay. This was officially the weirdest thing. A turn of events he never could have predicted. A turn of events Elijah hadn’t predicted. Made him terribly uneasy, but he was too fatigued to argue.

“Thanks.” Aden didn’t trust the man, but he slapped their palms together anyway.