Twisted

TWENTY-SIX

RILEY KICKED IN THE front door, wooden shards raining in every direction. No alarm sounded. That didn’t mean one hadn’t been tripped, but screw it. Last time he’d been in this neighborhood, playing it safe had almost killed him. Had killed his animal. So, no more playing it safe.

His hands balled into fists as he stomped into the house. He couldn’t think about the past right now. He’d rage and destroy everything in sight. “We’ve got five minutes.” After that, the authorities could arrive. “Let’s make the most of it.”

Mary Ann rushed in behind him. “So, just grab what I can?”

Joe and Paula Stone supposedly lived there. So, yeah, grabbing what they could was the plan. A plan they’d gone over several times already. He stalked down the hallway without bothering to reply. She knew the answer, she was just nervous. He wished he could comfort her, but just then, he was having trouble comforting himself.

There were only two doorways along this route. He entered the first. Master bedroom? Maybe. Small, sparse, with only a bed, a nightstand and a dresser. On the bed, the covers were in disarray, as if they’d been shoved away in a hurry. A cup on the nightstand was tipped to its side, the contents—water, from the looks of it—had dripped to the floor, where clothes were piled. The dresser’s drawers were partly open. The only window was covered by thick black paint.

Clearly no one had been here for a while. Probably since the morning he and Mary Ann had nearly had sex in the house across the street, and both their lives had changed forever.

If so, well, Joe and Paula Stone had run. For good. And if they’d run, that meant they’d known Riley and Mary Ann were coming. But how could they have known? And why run? What had they feared?

“Riley,” Mary Ann called.

He followed the sound of her voice and was soon standing beside her in the second bedroom. Toys littered the floor, a fact that momentarily rendered him speechless. “They have a kid?”

“Either that, or they have a home day care.”

“A day care that caters strictly to girls? No.” There was nothing masculine in the room. No blue, no race cars, no action figures. Just pink, stuffed animals and dolls.

“Do you think…”

That Aden has a sister? “Maybe.” Probably. And what a way to find out. He thought back to the couple, to the truck, but didn’t recall seeing a car seat. That didn’t mean the girl hadn’t been with them. “Just…” What? He looked for a clock, couldn’t find one. How were they on time? “Go to the kitchen, go through all the drawers. Grab any kind of bill you find. Anything with a name.”

“Okay.” She didn’t run off, but stood there. “Riley, I—”

“I can’t talk about it. Just go,” he said and returned to the master bedroom before she could say anything else. Trying to force his mind to a Happy Place, he dug through the closet, every drawer in the nightstand, then searched under the mattress and bed. Nothing personal had been left behind.

Figured.

“Uh, Riley,” Mary Ann called, her voice cracking.

His back was to her, but he could sense her fear. He jackknifed to a stand and turned toward her, only to freeze, his breath icing over in his lungs.

“Mary Ann. Walk to me. Slowly.”

A strangling sound slipped from her. “Can’t.”

“You don’t issue orders, little boy. I do,” said the man standing behind her. The man pointing a gun at her head.

He was tall, blond and lean. He wore a flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up halfway on his arms to reveal several tattoos. Wards. Against what, Riley couldn’t tell. Yet. He needed a closer look. What he did know? Anger pulsed from the guy in dark, agitated waves. He’d shoot, and he wouldn’t care about the dead bodies he left behind.

Riley cursed himself for not teaching Mary Ann how to react in this type of situation. “You hurt her,” he said just as calmly, “and I’ll kill you.” That was not an empty boast.

Throughout his life, he’d done that and more. He’d never been one to strike without cause, but he’d never been one to sit back and take whatever was being served, either.

“That’ll be a little hard for you to do if you’re dead, now won’t it.” A statement when it should have been a question. “But don’t you worry. I’ll make it fast.”

The sad thing was, Riley had no argument. No real defense. Had he not lost his wolf, he would have heard the man enter the house. Failing that, he would have smelled him. Instead, he’d allowed his ex-girlfriend to be terrorized. He kinda deserved what he got.

Not Mary Ann, though, she didn’t deserve any of this. Not…his ex. Only then did he realize he’d just thought of her in past tense, rather than present. Something he’d never done before, not with her.

The man pushed the gun into her scalp, which pushed her forward. She stumbled into the room.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. “He snuck up on me, and I—”

“Shut up, girl. I’ve heard enough from you.”

When she was finally within reach, Riley latched onto her arm and jerked her behind him. She was trembling, her fingers clutching at his. There was no time to comfort her. To act as her shield, he had to release her completely. Her palms flattened on his back, then fisted in his T-shirt. Then she released him as he had done to her—and stepped beside him.

He stepped in front of her and glared over at the gun-wielding human, who’d watched the entire scene with a hard, seen-it-all-before expression. They were about the same height, which put the guy at about six foot three.

“Are you Joe Stone?”

There was a flash of surprise in the guy’s eyes, but he ignored the question to ask one of his own. “Are you the kids who busted my neighbor’s window and left blood everywhere?”

“Yeah,” Riley answered. “So?”

“So?” Such blatant honesty left the guy reeling but only for a moment. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?”

Should he give the truth or a lie this time? Who was this person? He and Aden had the same hair color and the same square chin, but then, thousands of people did. Nothing else looked similar.

The man’s face was rough, his nose slightly crooked, as if it had been broken a time or ten, and there were tiny scars crisscrossing on his cheeks. Aden had an angel’s face, no suggestion of roughness.

“I asked you a question, boy.”

“And I didn’t answer it.” Don’t poke at the bear. Especially when his wolf couldn’t eat that bear.

A new concept for Riley. On paper, he was older than this man. Used to be stronger—on paper and in a ring. A lot stronger. And a lot meaner. Now what was he? Pathetic, that’s what.

“We know your son,” Mary Ann said with a calm, even tone. “Aden. Haden, I mean. Everyone calls him Aden.”

No expression change from Stonehenge over there. Worse, his grip on the gun was steady, proving his strength. Anyone else would have already grown tired of its weight. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I thought…you should have…maybe we were…this isn’t happening!” she cried. “What if we’re in the wrong house?”

“We aren’t,” Riley said.

She spoke over him. “Sir, I’m sorry. Very sorry. We shouldn’t have…”

A primitive part of Riley wanted to punish the man for crushing her fighting spirit. And maybe her recent brush with death was partly to blame, too, having dulled her brave streak and—hey. She’d just inched her way in front of him again. For the love of—she was trying to act as his shield.

So much for a crushed spirit.

He could have taken that as a sign she still maybe kinda sorta loved him. But all he could think was that she no longer viewed him as strong enough to take care of her. Why would she? He didn’t.

Joe Possible cocked the gun, getting serious. “You got five seconds to start talking, boy, or your brains will paint my walls.”

“Are you going to count out loud so I can spew all my secrets at the last possible moment?” There was no need to wait for Joe’s reply. And he planned to treat the man like he was Joe from then on. Otherwise, Riley would flounder. “You know exactly who Aden is. He’s your son.” As he spoke, he shoved Mary Ann behind him. One step, two, he backed her up, trying to get her to the window. She could jump through and run, and he could deal with the situation without fear of casualties.

“I don’t have a son.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Don’t care. Why would you think I was this Joe?”

“News flash. Answering a question with another question doesn’t make you smart or mysterious.”

Those dark eyes narrowed farther, becoming tiny slits. “Watch the attitude, kid. I’m the one with the gun.”

Another backward step. Almost there…

“I know what you’re doing, so don’t you dare move another inch.” Joe advanced until the barrel of the gun was pressing into Riley’s chest. “You’re not leaving here. Not until I get some answers.”

“Like yours is the first gun I’ve had pointed my way. You want me scared, do something original. You want answers, let the girl go.”

“No,” Mary Ann said, and he reached back to squeeze her arm, a silent command to shut the hell up. “I’m staying.”

“Don’t listen to her.”

“Too late,” Joe said. “I listened. She stays.”

Oh, hell, no. They weren’t playing that game. “You’ll regret that decision.” Riley put his hands up, palms out, as if he were submitting.

“Actually, I don’t think I will.”

Moving swiftly, Riley grabbed the gun and pushed down, hard. Joe fired off a shot, but the bullet slammed into the floor.

Riley didn’t release him but held him like that and punched him once, twice, with his other hand. Then, while Joe was dazed, he used both hands to twist the gun, breaking Joe’s trigger finger in the process. He could have fired off a shot himself, but he didn’t. He just pulled the weapon from the now-loosened grip and aimed.

“Told you.”

Cursing under his breath, grimacing, Joe held up his hands, palms out. Unlike Riley, he meant it. His broken finger lay at an odd angle, the rest of the appendage useless.

Riley kept the gun trained on him, certain he had other weapons stashed in other places. “Move, and it’ll be the last thing you do. Mary Ann, call Aden.”

“What? Why?”

“He needs to be here.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw her withdraw her cell and scroll through her address book. A few seconds later, she was whispering into the receiver. All the while, he kept the bulk of his attention on Joe, on the lookout for a reaction. Besides a slight hitch of breath and a truckload of trembling, the guy gave no reaction.

“If you’re not Joe Stone,” he said, determined to uncover the truth before Aden got here, “who are you?”

A gulp. “All right. I’ll play. Let’s say I am this Joe Stone. What would you want with me?”

Okay. So. He was Joe, no doubt about it. Why else would he have asked that question? But why the subterfuge? “An apology for starters.”

“For protecting my home?”

“For abandoning your son.”

A twitch underneath his eye. From irritation? Or guilt?

“Mary Ann?” Riley said.

“Y-yes?”

“Come here.”

She was at his side a second later. “Aden’s on his way.”

“That’s good. Now hold the gun,” he said, still not taking his eyes off Joe.

“What!”

Fear once again pulsed from her.

“Hold the gun, keep your finger on the trigger and squeeze if he moves.”

“Okay. Sure. Yes. Okay.” With trembling hands, she reached out and did as he instructed. The gun was heavy, and he doubted she would be able to hold it for long, so he moved quickly, stalking to Joe and patting him down, but always staying out of Mary Ann’s line of fire. Riley found three blades, a syringe of something and a Taser. What he didn’t find was ID.

Through it all, Joe stood completely still. Smart of him.

“Riley,” Mary Ann said.

“You’re doing good, sweetheart.” He shoved Joe to the bed, away from the discarded blades, Mary Ann following with the barrel of the gun. “Sit down and stay down.”

Joe sat, and Riley returned to Mary Ann’s side. When he reclaimed the gun, she let out a relieved breath.

“Grab the blades and stand beside the door. Anyone besides Aden or Victoria walk into this room, stab them.”

“No one else is here,” Joe said. “And no one will be coming to my rescue.”

Dude’s default tone was emotionless, and he’d gone back to it. Riley arched a brow at him. “Paula, your wife, isn’t going to come busting in to save you, then?”

Bronzed skin paled to a sickly gray. “No, she’s not. And don’t think to go looking for her. She’s safe.”

Oh, yes. This was Joe Stone.

Silence reigned, until an hour later, Aden arrived, Victoria behind him. Both wore wrinkled clothing, and both had total bed head. Victoria’s cheeks were flushed, and there were two perfect punctures in her neck. Hell, there were even puncture marks in Aden’s neck, though his were jagged, clearly torn, as if he’d fended off a human.

Victoria was getting sloppy. If only that were the least of Aden’s worries. They weren’t just feeding off each other now, which was dangerous, considering what they’d just been through, they were sleeping together. As Riley could attest, nothing productive happened when you mixed business with pleasure.

And if Aden’s beast got free…if Victoria lost herself to blood lust…well, no one would survive. But both were steady on their feet, neither was trembling, and neither was salivating and staring at thumping pulses.

Good thing. Those vampire beasts reacted to aggression and testosterone, and there was a lot of that in the air right now, practically thickening into a fog.

Joe stiffened, suddenly on alert. And surprise, surprise, he wouldn’t look in Aden’s direction. He looked everywhere but at Aden.

“Rest of the house is clean,” Victoria said. “And no one suspicious is watching from the other houses.”

They’d been together a long time. She knew how Riley operated, and what information he desired without being told.

Aden looked Joe over, his expression remaining blank. “This is him?” But oh, he couldn’t hide the anger in his tone. He was also intrigued.

“Yeah,” Mary Ann said. “That’s him.”

Riley gave him a moment to gather his thoughts.

“I’m not who you think I am,” Joe said, still unwilling to glance at Aden, who spent the next few seconds guiding Victoria beside Mary Ann and blocking both females from Joe’s line of vision.

“Not a very good liar, Joey. I’d stop trying to sell that story. You already admitted to knowing Paula.”

“Or I pretended to.”

“Whatever.” Riley lowered the gun, pointing the tip at the carpet. “Oh, and if you don’t think I can aim and fire faster than you can grab one of my friends, test me. I dare you.”

Joe’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“Who do we think you are?” Aden asked, jumping back into the conversation.

“Your…father.” He nearly choked on that.

“And you’re not?”

Silence. Then, “Why are you looking for him?”

“That’s something I’ll discuss only with him.”

Again, silence. Silence so tense Riley could have cut through it with a knife. He was shocked when Aden walked forward, slow and deliberate, and crouched in front of Joe.

Joe flinched but otherwise made no motion to dodge his attention.

“Tell me who you are,” Aden said.

Mother of—Aden had just used Voice Voodoo, as Mary Ann called it, and he’d leaked enough power to force even a wolf to do what he wanted. Most times, wolves were immune.

And apparently, so was Joe. “No,” he said, at last looking Aden in the eye. “So you’re one of them.” Emotion now, and a lot of it. Disappointment, incredulity, anger.

The muscles in Aden’s back rippled under his T-shirt. “One of who?”

“The vampires. Who else?”

Those two words—the vampires—were a revelation. Joe knew what was out there. Joe knew about the otherworld.

“So you know they exist?” Aden choked out.

“At least you don’t try to deny it,” Joe said flatly. But his anger was draining, along with the rest of the emotions, and fear was taking over.

“Are you my father?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“This again.” Another pause, this one longer. Then Aden gave Joe the answers he wanted. “I have three souls trapped inside my head. I can do things, weird things, like travel to past versions of my life, wake the dead, possess other people’s bodies and predict the future.”

“And?”

Aden laughed bitterly. “And, you say, as if all of that isn’t enough. And. I want to know if anyone else in my family was—is—like me. I want to know why I’m like I am. I want to know why my own parents were unwilling to help me.”

The slightest narrowing of his eyes, Joe’s lashes the same chocolate color as Aden’s. “And you think answers will help you understand?”

“They wouldn’t hurt.”

“Do you hope your parents will apologize? Tell you they were wrong? Welcome you back into their arms?” Now Joe was the one to laugh bitterly. “I can tell you right now, you’re gonna be severely disappointed if so.”

Riley didn’t have to see his king’s face to know he’d just been cut to the bone. Aden might never have admitted it, but he would have loved those things. Probably craved them in secret. A secret buried so deep he’d kept it from himself. But being rejected like that, no matter what lies he’d told himself about wanting nothing to do with his birth parents, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from caring now.

“Believe me,” Aden said, reverting to his own emotionless state, “I want nothing to do with the people who left me to rot in mental institutions. The monsters who placed me in the care of doctors who hurt me and foster families who tried to beat the normal into me.”

“That wasn’t what was supposed to—” Joe pressed his lips together, but he’d already said enough. Riley had already figured it out, and now Aden knew without a doubt.

“That wasn’t supposed to be what happened to me?” Aden spat. “Was I supposed to die? Or did you think leaving me in the care of the state when I was so young was going to work out for me?”

Breath hissed through Joe’s flaring nostrils. “That’s right. Am I your father? Yes. Was there someone else like you? Yes. My father. I was dragged all over the world as a child because of the things he drew our way. And you call me a monster? You have no idea what a true monster is! I watched huge, ugly beasts kill my mother, my brother.”

“And that excuses your behavior with me?”

Joe continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “When I was old enough, I moved away from my dad and never looked back. He tried to contact me a few times before he died, killed by the same things that had killed the rest of my family, I’m sure, but I wanted nothing to do with him. I wasn’t going to live that way anymore. I had my own family to take care of.”

“You didn’t take care of me!” Aden shouted. “Why did you risk having kids, if you knew you could pass on your father’s abilities?”

“I didn’t know. He was the only one. I thought… I hoped… It wasn’t genetic, shouldn’t have been genetic. He did it to himself. Messed with things he shouldn’t have messed with.”

“Like what?”

“Magic, science.” Joe leaned down, getting in his face. “As for abandoning you, how could I not? You were just like him. About a week after you were born, they started showing up. Stray goblins at first, trying to crawl through your window, then the wolves, then the witches. Rogues, all of them, without true ties to their race, but I knew it was only a matter of time until you drew them in groups. Just a matter of time until we were running…until your mother was dead. Me, you.”

“What about the girl?” Riley asked. Aden didn’t know, not yet, but didn’t betray his lack of knowledge by speaking.

“An accident.”

“Is she—”

“I won’t talk about her!”

“Well, I don’t believe you about your reasons,” Aden said. “I managed not to draw those monsters to me for over a decade.”

“Because of the wards,” Joe replied.

Aden balled his hand into a fist. “I got my first ward a few weeks ago.”

“No. You got your first ward as an infant.”

“Impossible.”

“No. Hidden.”

Nostrils flared. “Where?”

“Your scalp.”

“The freckles,” Victoria suddenly gasped out. “Remember?”

Aden rubbed at his head. “Then why did they stop working? For that matter, if you gave them to me, if they kept the monsters away, why not keep me with you?”

Joe closed his eyes, his spine sagging. He sighed. “Maybe the ink faded. Maybe the spell was somehow broken.”

Aden and Mary Ann shared a look, and Riley figured they were remembering the first time they’d met, when an atomic bomb of power had been unleashed, summoning everything Joe had named and more.

“And as for why we didn’t keep you with us,” Joe said, “I wasn’t willing to take the chance. I had to keep your mother safe.”

“My mother.” Absolute longing radiated from Aden. “Where is she?”

“That, I will never tell.” Firm, final.

Riley refused to accept. “If you didn’t want to be found, you should have changed your names.”

Joe’s gaze met his for about half a second. “I did. For a while. But Paula…” He shrugged. “She insisted.” Had she wanted Aden to find her?

Aden straightened as if a board had just been strapped to his back. “I’ve heard enough.”

Actually, Riley thought he’d reached his limit. He might be veering close to a breakdown. Here was his dad—who still didn’t want him. Who didn’t want to help him, who didn’t so much as throw him a bone.

“What about Joe?” he asked.

“Leave him. I’m done with him.” With that, Aden walked out of the room, out of the house.

Riley motioned for the girls to follow him. When they were out of view, he tossed the gun on the floor. Rather than make a move for it, Joe stayed on the bed. “He’s a good kid, and now he’s leader of the very world you despise. And guess what? The monsters of your nightmares obey his every command. He could have protected you unlike any ward, and in a way no one else in the world could have, yet you just tossed him away like garbage. Again.”

Blink, blink. “I…I don’t understand.”

“Well, understand this—he deserved better than you. A lot better.”

Now Joe bolted to his feet. “You have no idea what I went through when—”

“Make all the excuses you want. It won’t change the facts. You didn’t protect your own son. You’re greedy, selfish and an all-around bastard. Now give me your shirt.”

The swift subject change threw the guy for a loop. “What?”

“You heard me. Give me your shirt. Don’t make me say it again. You won’t like the results.”

Joe jerked the material over his head and tossed it at him. “There. Happy?”

Riley caught it. “Not even.” There were thick scars all over Joe’s chest—scars in the pattern of claw marks. There were also other wards, and Riley recognized the biggest. It was an alert. Whenever danger approached, his entire body would vibrate. No wonder he’d known to run when Riley neared. “Understand this, Joe Stone. If we want to talk to you again, there’s no place you’ll be able to hide now.” He brought the shirt to his nose and sniffed. Though he could no longer shift and didn’t know if he could track, his brothers could still do both. “We’ve got your scent.”

With that, he, too, walked away.