Twisted

NINETEEN

“WAKE UP. ADEN, YOU have to wake up.”

Aden latched onto the voice as if it were a lifeline. And it was. He’d been trapped in an ocean of nothing, no sound, no colors, no sensations, with no way out. He pulled himself up a mountain, found that the line dangled over a cliff, and let himself drop, ending up in a river of ice.

“Aden.” His entire body shook. “Wake. Up.”

His eyelids popped open. He saw that Victoria loomed over him, black hair falling over her shoulder and tickling his bare chest. Concern painted twin circles of pink on her cheeks, and a clammy sheen glazed her brow.

“What’s wrong?” he croaked. He sat up, his entire body instantly throwing out I-hate-you vibes. His muscles were tangled around bone, and his skin stretched too tight, a rubber band ready to snap. His mouth was dry as a desert, and his stomach…his stomach was the worst offender. Distorted, grumbling, shrunken and probably in the process of eating itself.

“You worried me,” she said, straightening. She stuffed one of her hands into her pocket and played with something that crinkled. A wrapper of some sort, he would guess. “I was about to start pouring blood down your throat.”

Hmm…blood…

He licked his lips, trying to recall his last waking moments. He’d stepped into the ballroom, a party in full swing around him. His gaze had swept the attendees, and he’d somehow looked through a darkened glass wall and found Victoria. A new vampire ability, he supposed. How many more would he inherit?

They’d left the ballroom together and come up here to talk. He’d sat on the edge of the bed, and…he didn’t remember anything else. He must have fallen asleep.

What a wuss.

He’d meant to tell her about the dancing woman and the vision he’d had. The one of little Victoria and her whipping. Of her mother, the cause of that whipping. Maybe his impromptu snooze fest was a blessing, though. The news would have distressed her, and right now she didn’t appear capable of shouldering another burden. She appeared…fragile, easily breakable.

“What time is it?” He inhaled and—mistake! Every thought in his head derailed. His sinuses clung to that tantalizing whiff of her, shooting sparks of gotta-have-that through his entire body. Moisture finally flooded his mouth, destroying the desert as if it had never been. His gums ached, their favorite thing to do, it seemed.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Fine,” he croaked. “I’m fine.”

“As Riley says, I’ll pretend I believe that. And to answer your question, it’s dawn.”

He shook his head to clear the cobwebs, but they proved thick and stubborn. “Still?”

“The next dawn.”

Okay, then. That made more sense.

“You entered a healing sleep,” she explained.

Healing sleep. He’d never heard the term before, but just as he’d known the names of his vampires, he knew the meaning. A comalike state of total sensory deprivation, where vampire and beast merged into a single being. Blood cell count rose to extraordinary levels, speeding the curative process.

Healing sleep or not, however, he felt like he’d fought a few hundred bruisers and lost. Unfortunate, since he had stuff to do. He couldn’t snuggle up and go for round two of the mattress blackouts.

He threw his legs over the side of the bed. He would have stood, but Victoria placed a chilled hand on his shoulder and pressed. A puny move, but effective all the same. And necessary. With that one little movement of his, he’d set off a chain reaction of pain. And more pain.

“If I went into a healing sleep, why do I feel like crap?”

“Because the new tissue is untried. Don’t worry, though. Once you get up and stretch out, you’ll feel better.”

No room for doubt with such a confident tone. “How often have you had to endure this?”

A shrug of her elegant shoulder. “I lost count a long time ago.”

He didn’t like that. At all. “Want to go into details?”

“Not particularly.”

“I can have anyone you like punished.” Another mistake on his part. He’d meant the words as a joke, something to make her laugh, but she didn’t laugh, and he realized he’d told the truth. Anyone who hurt her, he wanted to hurt in turn.

Time to switch subjects before he started issuing demands and upsetting her.

Now would be the perfect opportunity to tell her what he’d seen. Her mom, Edina, trying to run away with her, her dad catching her, blaming her, whipping her. Would she be embarrassed? Probably. She shouldn’t be, but yeah, it would still kill her that he knew.

After all, he would have been embarrassed if the situation were reversed. He never wanted this girl to see him weak, at his worst. Like now. He could barely stand that she was seeing him bruised and swollen. And he had to be bruised and swollen, despite that healing sleep. Aches and pains were not exactly liars. But if he felt that way, she would, too. Vampires seemed to carry a thousand pounds more pride than their human counterparts. So. Okay. Yeah. Maybe this was one of those things he just needed to take to the grave. Knowing helped him understand her, and understanding caused him to toss a heap load of respect her way. No reason to ruin that by—what?—upsetting her.

Was that cowardly of him? His rationale to get him out of an uncomfortable situation? Maybe some would say so, but he honestly didn’t think so. Sometimes full disclosure was cruel and silence kind.

He was running with that.

“Have you had any visions of my past?” he asked, counteracting his decision in a snap. He’d just opened the door for her to ask if he had. And if she asked, he couldn’t lie.

“No. Let’s talk about that later, though. Okay? Yes? You need to see something.”

“See what?”

“This.” She turned, some kind of black remote outstretched in her hand. After pressing a few buttons, the wood panel over her dresser parted, revealing a large television screen. Colors flickered together, then images formed. She scrolled through the channels quickly, stopping when she reached a news station. “Listen.”

A somber-faced reporter stared out at him, an umbrella overhead, a light drizzle of rain falling. “—been dubbed the Red Robe Massacre of Tulsa,” she was saying. “Ten women, all brutally slain. Police are working diligently to find clues as to who could have committed such a heinous crime.”

“Tragic,” he said, “but why did I need to know it?”

Victoria hit Mute and fell onto the mattress beside him. “Females wearing red robes. In Tulsa. Where Riley is. Where Mary Ann is. They’re witches, Aden, and they must have been the ones chasing the pair. They were stabbed repeatedly, which means the fairies, vampires and wolves weren’t responsible.”

He jumped on the topic with the finesse of a freight train. “Are Riley and Mary Ann okay?”

Her hands wrung together, and when that wasn’t enough, she twisted the fabric of her robe, leaving wrinkles in her wake. “I don’t know. He hasn’t contacted me in a while.”

“Elijah?”

I don’t know, the soul said.

Okay. So the soul hadn’t seen anything bad. That beat the crap out of the alternative. “How can you be sure the creatures you named aren’t responsible?”

“Fairies would not have caused bloodshed. Vampires would have, but they would have licked up every drop of that blood. And the wolves would have left claw marks, not knife slashes.”

Hmm, blood…

The moment the thought registered, he sank into a dark pit of humiliation. People had died. Violently, painfully, and he craved a snack?

“Aden,” Victoria prompted.

Right. He needed to comment. See Aden discuss murder as casually as the weather. “Who does that leave?”

Wait, wait, wait, Caleb suddenly said. Go back. I was just waking up and had to have misheard. Did she just say a coven of witches was…murdered?

Victoria was talking, too, but Aden heard only Caleb, the soul’s upset giving him volume. “Yes,” he replied. “I’m so sorry.”

No. She’s wrong, she has to be wrong.

“Caleb—”

No! Elijah. Tell him she’s wrong. Tell him!

I’m sorry, too, Elijah said sadly.

No! A plaintive cry. A cry that must have opened a dam of heartache, because Caleb began sobbing.

The soul had liked the witches from day one, and had thought he was somehow connected to them, that he’d known them in his other life. The one before Aden.

You have to go back in time, Aden. You have to save them from this.

His reply was instant. “No. I can’t.”

You mean you won’t.

“Too many things could go wrong. You know that.” It was the same answer he’d given Victoria, when she’d asked. The same answer he would give anyone, everyone, who asked. When you weighed the risks against the rewards, the risks always tipped the scale.

There was no reason good enough to tip the scale in the other direction.

Please, Aden! Please.

“No. I’m sorry.”

While Elijah and Julian attempted to comfort their friend, Aden met Victoria’s curious gaze. “The news has…” destroyed “…disturbed Caleb.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” And he was, even though Aden had never liked the witches himself. How could he? They’d cast the death spell over Riley, Mary Ann and Victoria, and nearly ruined the life he’d built for himself. But he hated for one of his souls to suffer, and he would have spared the witches for that alone.

“The best thing we can do for him is figure out what happened and make sure it doesn’t happen again,” he said.

“I agree. You asked me who could be responsible. I don’t think the goblins or zombies are smart enough, so that leaves…humans.”

All the commotion woke Junior. The beast stretched inside his head, making little mewling noises. Aden tensed. Exactly what he needed. Another fight. Then he recalled what Elijah said, that Junior responded to emotion. If he remained calm, the beast wouldn’t fight him.

Yeah, he could do that. Maybe.

“How could a few humans defeat a coven of witches?” he asked. Good. Right track. “We’ve seen the power of their spells firsthand. And humans, well, they’re uneducated when it comes to magic. Anyone who so much as approached the witches would have been defenseless.”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe one of the races you named wanted humans to be blamed and framed them.”

“It’s possible. But why do so? To send a message?”

“A we-know-what-you-are-and-we’re-coming-after-your-kind sort of thing?”

“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know. Nothing like this has ever happened before. We clean up our battles. All of us. We rarely leave evidence for humans to find. That’s how we’re trained from birth. That’s how we survive.”

“Times change.”

“Yes,” she said flatly. “They do.”

What did that mean? He’d changed, and she no longer liked him?

Junior belted out a hungry roar.

With a sigh, Aden fell back on the mattress, winced and draped his arm over his forehead. “I’m not thinking straight. Let’s talk about the murders after we eat, okay?”

Her hesitant “Okay” gave him pause.

“Did you already eat?” For that matter, “Where did you sleep last night?” He’d taken her room, and she had not been here. And he could have kicked his own butt for simply falling asleep on her, making her feel as if she didn’t belong in her own digs. He knew how important having personal space could be, having been denied his own for most of his life.

Before, Victoria would have felt comfortable enough to snuggle up to him. After the way he’d treated her lately, she probably hadn’t known if he would welcome her or reject her.

“I stayed in Riley’s room,” she said, her hand going back in her pocket to play with the wrapper or whatever it was.

A growl rose up in his throat before he even realized he was having an emotional reaction to those words. Calm down.

He recalled the first time he’d seen Victoria outside one of Elijah’s visions. She’d been standing in a forest clearing just beyond the D and M ranch, Riley towering behind her, protecting her. Aden had wondered what they were to each other—and even when he’d learned they were just friends, thrums of jealousy had refused to leave him.

Closeness was closeness, no matter how you sliced it.

“You could have slept here,” he told her.

“Well, did you, the king of heaven and earth, mention that a single time since coming here?”

No, she hadn’t known. “I’m mentioning it now.”

Crinkle, crinkle. She wasn’t done. “That’s great. Wonderful. Considering you’ve done nothing but push me away for days.”

Annnnd there was the crux of the problem. “I’m sorry for that. I really am. But I’m improving. Right? I mean, you’ve changed, too.” Great. Now he was throwing blame, something she didn’t deserve.

“Meaning I’m more human?” Crinkle, crinkle.

What was that? “Meaning, nothing bad, I swear. But…yes, you have been more human. And again, that’s not a bad thing.”

“Yes, it is. You’re saying I wasn’t good enough as I was.”

“No! That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

Still she wasn’t done. “The fact that you’re improving is great. Wonderful.”

He was going to hate what came next, he just knew it.

“But I’ve decided to hold a grudge,” she finished.

Yep. Hated. “Are you serious?”

“Am I known for my delightful sense of humor?”

When she gave in to the new human side of her, she really gave in. “Why are you holding a grudge?”

“Because I feel like it.”

And how did you argue with that kind of logic? “Fine.”

“Fine.”

“I still need to eat.”

Flames lit up the blue in her eyes. “Do you want me to fetch you a slave?”

No. Yes. “No.” Only one name was etched into his menu of choice, and it was still hers. But he’d had Sorin’s blood. And, hey, why wasn’t he seeing the world through Sorin’s eyes? He asked Victoria.

“The blood only works that way for a limited amount of time, and since you’ve spent an entire day dead to the world, your connection to Sorin, and his to you, has passed.

“Now,” she added. “Why don’t you want a slave?”

“I’ll find someone to chomp on in a minute.” He would force himself. “I need to clean up first.”

Crinkle, crinkle.

“What’s in your pocket?” he asked

Her checks flashed bright red. “Nothing. Now go. Clean up.”

O-kay. He lumbered from the bed and hobbled to the bathroom, certain he resembled an old man with a walker, and yes, he hated that Victoria was seeing him like this.

“Oh, and Aden? Thank you for not killing my brother,” she said just before he shut the door.

“You’re welcome.”

He brushed his teeth, showered quickly, noticed Victoria had already stacked fresh clothes in the corner, and dressed in the plain gray T-shirt, jeans and his own boots. Everything was pressed and a perfect fit.

As Junior’s roars came more frequently and Caleb’s choking sobs finally faded, Aden studied himself in the mirror. It was still a jolt to see himself with blond hair. He’d been dying the mop for years. His eyes jolted him, too. Last time he’d seen them, they were gold. Now, they were a kaleidoscope of colors.

What stunned him most was his lack of bruises, swelling and punctures. He looked one hundred percent racer ready. His insides clearly had some catching up to do. Even after that steamy shower, he hurt. Considering he’d expected his lips to resemble something out of a horror flick and the fact that he’d lost a tooth—which, three cheers, had regrown during his healing sleep—he wasn’t going to complain.

Could you please shut that beast up, Ad? Julian asked, pulling him from his thoughts. All that roaring on top of everything else is annoying, and I’m not sure how much longer I can deal.

“If we want to quiet Junior—” at least for a little while “—we’ve got to eat.”

Pick a blood-slave, like Victoria suggested. Please.

The term blood-slave was really starting to bother him. Yeah, that could have been his fate, and could still be his fate since he was jonesing so badly for the princess and only the princess.

His ears twitched. Footsteps in Victoria’s room. Frowning, he threw open the bathroom door. Before he saw who had entered, he smelled who had entered. Riley’s brothers. Maxwell and Nathan. They reeked of the outdoors and fear.

Nathan was pale from head to toe. Pale hair, pale blue eyes, pale skin. Maxwell was gold. Both were handsome—he guessed—but both were cursed by witches. (Who wasn’t, nowadays?) Anyone the pair desired would see a mask of ugliness when looking at them. Anyone they did not desire would see their true faces, their beauty.

Aden, of course, saw their true faces.

Both were scowling and taut with their worry and trying to comfort a crying Victoria.

“What’s going on?” he demanded, stalking over, ready to grind them both into powder if they’d hurt her.

He was just about ready to throw a punch, anyway, when she held out a goblet to him. “Here. Drink this.”

He smelled the sweetness before he saw the blood. Junior went wild, his roars more of a yes, yes, yessssss. Or maybe give me was more accurate. Aden’s mouth watered uncontrollably, his gums doing a little dance of anticipation. He knew without asking exactly whose vein the blood had been tapped from. Victoria’s.

His arm was lifting, the cup at his mouth, his throat gulping back the contents a second later, and only when he’d consumed every drop did he even realize he’d moved.

After he’d drunk Sorin’s blood, he’d considered himself strong. He’d been a fool. This was strength. A warm cascade that shimmered through him, lighting him up like a house at Christmas. His eyes closed as he savored.

The fog that had seemed to attach itself to his mind disappeared completely. His cells fizzed as if they were dancing with champagne. All the remaining aches and pangs from the fight with Sorin vanished. His muscles plumped up, and he might even have shot up an inch or two.

Junior purred his satisfaction, and like a baby who’d just gotten a bottle at bedtime, he slipped back to sleep.

Aden, though, well, he just wanted more.

No more for you, Julian said, conjuring the Soup Nazi.

How had the soul known what Aden was thinking? Had he said the words aloud? Was he staring at Victoria’s neck? Wait. How could he be staring? His eyes were still closed.

He focused, realized he had dropped the cup and latched onto Victoria’s arms. Was pulling her closer…closer…

Jolting out of his stupor, he released her. Backed away. Maxwell and Nathan were watching him with unease.

Later, he would see the world through Victoria’s eyes. No healing sleep would stop it from happening. Would he also continue to want her blood, and only hers? If so, who cared?

Because—and here was the clincher—having her was worth the risk of addiction. He would endure anything to be with her, to have her blood. Everything that had ever bothered him and more.

Victoria shifted from one foot to the other. He was still staring at her, he realized. He lowered his gaze, and that’s when he caught sight of her wrist. Though she wore a long-sleeved robe, the material had pulled back to reveal a wound stretching from one side to the other.

She’d cut herself, and recently, but she hadn’t healed.

Why hadn’t she healed? For that matter, her hand had been cold earlier. Her hand had never been cold before.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

“No.” She held her phone in front of his face. “Look what came in.”

He read the screen. “Tulsa. St. Mary’s. Dying. Hurry.”

“That’s from Riley,” she said, chin trembling as she fought her tears.

That’s not from Riley, Elijah said.

“How do you know?” Aden asked.

“Because he’s been—”

“Sorry.” He held up his hand. “Elijah knows something. Hang on.”

She nodded, both worried and hopeful.

First, the soul continued, deductive reasoning. If Riley was dying, he would not have typed so perfectly. And do you see any misspellings? No. Second, I just had a vision of Tucker typing those words.

As the bottom of Aden’s stomach fell out, he told the group what Elijah had said.

Then, he turned his attention inward again. “What else did you see? Show me. Please.”

You won’t like it.

“Do it anyway.”

Silence. Such oppressive silence.

A sigh. As you wish.

A moment later, Aden’s knees nearly buckled. In his mind he saw Riley strapped to a gurney, his skin the color of death and a gaping wound in one of his calves.

Mary Ann was also strapped to a gurney and being wheeled into an ambulance. An ambulance clearly marked St. Mary’s. She wore a pair of jeans and a bra, and she, too, had a gaping wound. Only, hers was in her shoulder. Someone had obviously tried to clean her up, because she was streaked with dried blood, patches of blue-tinted skin between the crimson.

Paramedics were pumping her chest, but she wasn’t responding.

“Tucker might have typed those words, but he wasn’t lying,” Aden croaked out. “They’re hurt. Badly.” If his friends died… If they’d already died…

“What’s wrong with Riley?” Maxwell demanded.

Aden explained what he’d seen.

The brothers cursed, dropping so many F-bombs Aden soon lost count. Victoria pressed her knuckles into her mouth, but a sob still managed to escape. “Could Tucker have killed the witches, then turned his sights on Riley and Mary Ann?” Nathan asked. “He’s part demon, and he can cast illusions. So, if anyone could defeat a coven of witches, it’s him.”

Caleb dropped a few sobbing F-bombs of his own, each one directed at Tucker.

“Tucker wouldn’t have been able to defeat Riley,” Maxwell said.

Aden had to concentrate to hear past the sounds in his head. “Whatever happened, we have to get to St. Mary’s.” He didn’t know a lot about the shifters, but what would happen if the paramedics discovered something different about Riley? “Can you teleport us, Victoria?”

To Tulsa? Yes, Caleb said, rousing himself from his anger and grief. We’ll go to Tulsa. We’ll investigate. We’ll savage Tucker if he did this.

The thought of vengeance was like a shot of adrenaline, Aden supposed.

All the color drained from Victoria’s cheeks. “N-no. I’ve been meaning to tell you…” Her gaze flicked to the shifters. “My, uh, brother…whatever he did to me must still be affecting my ability. I can’t. But maybe, I don’t know, you can.”

“Me?” He’d never tried, had no idea how to begin and didn’t want to waste time learning when he might not possess the ability anyway. “No, we’ll drive.”

There was a knock at the door, then hinges were squeaking as the beautiful Maddie entered. She wore the same expression she’d worn the day she’d told him about Sorin’s visit.

“I don’t know why I’ve been chosen to be the bearer of bad news again,” she began, licking her lips in agitation, “but your human friends have returned, majesty.”

“I don’t have time to deal with them. Tell them to go home and I’ll—”

You need to speak with them, Elijah cut in with an urgent tone. Now.

But the witches—

“Have to wait,” Aden said, cutting Caleb off with the same sense of urgency in his voice. “I’m sorry.” A muscle ticked below his eye as he motioned to Maddie to lead the way. “Take me to them.”

Down the stairs, around several corners and into the foyer they went. There stood Seth, Ryder and Shannon. All of whom were covered in soot, smoke practically rising from their shoulders.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“The ranch,” Seth began, then stopped to cough.

“B-burned down,” Shannon finished. “Every b-bit of it. N-nothing left.”

Aden stiffened. “Dan? Meg?”

“Alive, but injured, both of them,” Ryder said. “And they’re only alive because Sophia got them out.”

Sophia, Dan’s favorite dog. Don’t react. Not yet. One reaction would lead to another, and he couldn’t break down right now. He had to stay strong. But too much was going wrong all at once. Too many bad things piling up, weighing him down. Crushing him.

Looking so weary Aden wondered how he was even standing, Shannon massaged the back of his neck. Tears had dried on his cheeks, streaking through the soot. “S-Sophia didn’t make it, though. Neither did Brian.”

Brian, another boy who’d lived at the ranch. He’d never been a close friend, but still, Aden would not have wished such a death on him.

“Terry and RJ are moving out ahead of schedule. State’s gonna break the rest of us up,” Ryder said, and that’s when the fatigue hit him. He hunched over, breath emerging heavily. “They’re gonna send us to other homes. Maybe prison. Cops will think one of us set the fire.”

“Did you?” Nathan asked.

Seth erupted, getting in his face. “No, we sure as hell didn’t. That ranch was our home. Dan was the only person who ever cared about any of us. We would not have hurt him. Ever.”

So, who did that leave? Tucker? But even a demon couldn’t be in two places at once.

“My father,” Victoria whispered, horrified. “He’s begun to strike at you, I think. Which means he’s getting stronger.”

Yeah, Aden suddenly thought so, too. No longer were the boys safe. But if they ran, they’d look guilty of the crime. Plus, Vlad could clearly track them wherever they went.

There was only one place they’d be safe. Here.

Everyone was watching him, awaiting orders. Or answers. The burden of protecting them, all of them, was profound. He’d accepted the challenge, though, and won, so the burden was his to carry.

“Maddie,” he said, turning to the girl. “Bring Sorin to me.”

She nodded and was off, her black robe floating behind her.

As soon as Victoria’s brother rounded the far corner, headed in his direction, Aden started throwing out more orders. “You’re in charge, Sorin. Just don’t get used to the position. I’ve gotta take off for a bit. Spread the word,” he told Maddie. “Maxwell, Nathan, you’re coming with me and Victoria to Tulsa. The humans are staying here. They aren’t to be hurt.”

“I’m g-going with you,” Shannon said, the picture of stubbornness.

The vampires and shifters gasped at his daring. Seth and Ryder just looked confused by their reaction.

Wasn’t worth arguing over. Besides, it might be nice to have a human by his side.

Wait. Had he really just referred to his friend as a human? He was even thinking like a vampire now. “He’s coming with us,” Aden amended. “And I changed my mind. So are Seth and Ryder.” That way, he wouldn’t have to worry about leaving them here. “Sorin, let everyone know the Draven/Victoria fight is on hold until I return. I want to watch it, and I can’t do that if I’m gone. Anyone who says this is a ploy to save Victoria from a beating—”

“Will be punished,” the warrior said. “I know how this works.”

“Send a few of the shifters to Crossroads High. I want the building guarded day and night.” Just in case Vlad tried to strike at him that way, too. “And I want someone protecting Mary Ann’s dad at all times, too.” No chances.

Sorin nodded, clearly happy with the turn of events. “It will be done.”

Aden still wasn’t sure he could trust the warrior, but he didn’t know what else to do. Either Sorin was actually working for his father, here to spy on Aden, or would fight his father more fervently than anyone else and help Aden’s cause.

Elijah hadn’t protested, so Aden wouldn’t worry—overly much.

“All right,” he said, turning to his friends. “Let’s go save Riley and Mary Ann.”

If it isn’t too late, Elijah said now.

“Unless you have something productive and positive to add,” Aden told him, “don’t speak again.” Another cryptic warning would only grind him further into the dirt.

Elijah remained silent the entire drive to Tulsa.