Gena Showalter - Intertwined 02 (26 page)

What was he doing? Did she care? No. Another moan escaped her.
HUNGRY
…

There was no answer. He knocked again. Finally, the door swung open and a frowning Victoria glared up at him. “You're the hundredth person at my door. I know. You sense Aden. So did they. But to prevent upheaval, I didn't lie to them, so I hope you're prepared. Tomorrow, though, and not tonight,” she rambled. “Tonight he's trying to sleep—I commanded him to sleep actually. We'll deal with the consequences in the morning because I won't have him disturbed.”

“Are you finished?”

She hissed at him. “I'm not sending him away, Riley.”

“I didn't ask you to. In fact, I'm glad you're finally standing up for what you want. Now, enough about you, brat. I need you to take us to the cabin.”

The cabin, where the witch was being kept. Understanding dawned. Riley was going to feed her. Mary
Ann wanted to protest, but she also wanted to feel better. She'd never been this weak, never been this helpless.

“All of us?” Victoria looked back at her bed, and Aden sleeping there. “Why?”

“Just Mary Ann and me, and because I said so. Leave us in the cabin and then come get us in an hour. Okay? Actually, during that hour, go to Mary Ann's house and convince her dad she's there tonight and in the morning so he doesn't worry.”

“Why do you want to go to the cabin?” she asked again, gaze sliding to Mary Ann.

Starved, dying, scared, agonized…

“I need your blind trust,” Riley told the vampire. “As I've often given you.”

Victoria nodded without hesitation. “All right. Yes, of course. Who first?”

“Me, but be careful with Mary Ann. She's…ill.”

A second later, the two disappeared. Mary Ann could only sit there, her mind starting to hurt, too. Then Victoria was there, gripping her hand, the bed was falling away, and she was floating, spinning, stopping, then starting all over again. Finally, solid ground appeared. She wanted to vomit, but had nothing in her stomach and ended up dry heaving, intensifying the pain in her body.

“What's wrong with her?” Victoria asked.

“Like I said, she's ill.”

“And you think the witch will cast a healing spell? I assure you—”

“Thanks for your help. Now go back to Aden,” Riley said, scooping Mary Ann in his arms. “Please.” She was floating again, only this time she had an anchor. Strong, magnificent Riley. “Out. I'm serious, Vic.”

Victoria growled, but disappeared.

“What's going on?” a familiar voice asked. The witch.

Suddenly warmth and power swept through Mary Ann, easing her hunger, her pain. She sighed in ecstasy, drinking in every molecule she could. Yes. Yes. This was what she'd needed, what she couldn't live without. Strength returned to her limbs, her body becoming hers again.

“Drainer,” the witch cried. “No. No! Get back! Get away!”

“Well,” Riley said dryly, “if either of us were in any doubt, that doubt is now alleviated.”

A
DEN AWOKE MORE CLEARHEADED
than he'd been in what seemed forever, but also a little peeved. He was in the vampire stronghold; he remembered being whisked here, kissing Victoria, feeding her, loving her, but now he was alone in her massive bed and there was no sign that she'd ever been here. No Victoria meant no more kissing or feeding.

At least he wasn't twitchy and in withdrawal,
needing
her to bite him again. Therefore he hadn't become a blood-slave last night.

He sat up and looked around. The room was as white as he remembered, and he could guess why she'd chosen such a blank canvas. Her father remained true to the I'm-an-evil-badass stereotype: black, black and more black. Colors, which Victoria loved, hadn't really been allowed, so she'd done the next best thing. The opposite of what her father had wanted.

A small rebellion, but so wonderfully telling. Deep
down, she hadn't wanted to be like her father. Here, in the privacy of her bedroom, she'd allowed herself to be herself.

This place gives me the creeps,
Caleb said.

“Why?” He glanced down at himself. He was still wearing his jeans and T-shirt, but his boot, socks and blades had been removed. By Victoria? Had she run her hands all over him? He wished he'd been awake for that.

'Cause there's no naked girls
.

Aden laughed. Typical Caleb.

Well, I like it,
Julian said.
Add your clothes in the closet, and this would feel more like home than the ranch
.

“And why do you say that?” he asked, gaze straying to the closet in question. The entry was dark, too dark to see what rested inside. Probably black robe after black robe.

It's almost like we're smack in the middle of an unwritten book. Like there's nothing here but blank pages.

Which means we can write the story however we want. And anyway, you don't see this room as it will one day be,
Elijah said.
There are colors, so many beautiful colors
.

That put a smile on Aden's face. “Will I be here?”

Elijah didn't reply.

Aden took that for a no, and said goodbye to his blossoming good mood. How could he have forgotten, even
for a second, that he was going to die?
I don't want to die,
he thought.

Once, he'd simply accepted his pending demise as fact. Then he'd been stabbed in the heart to save Thomas from the pain. Now he was starting to think crazy thoughts—for the first time, despite what the world thought of him. Thoughts of changing his future, even though he knew that would only make his death worse.

Was there something worse than being stabbed?

Yeah, and watching his friends die topped the list. A sobering reminder. He had work to do. “Have you figured out where the witch meeting is being held, Elijah?”

No
.

“Caleb, you seem to like them when no one else does. Do you know where the meeting will be?” Aden was beginning to feel guilty he hadn't done more.

Wish I did, buddy
,
but I've got nothing
.

One day left, tomorrow, yet he'd made no progress. Six days had passed, and he'd learned nothing. Yeah, he'd been busy fighting goblin poison, meeting the vampires and dying. Twice. But when it came to the safety of his friends, there really was no excuse for his lack of results.

The door creaked open, and then Victoria was standing in the open entry, wearing a pink tank top and a blue miniskirt. Her dark hair hung to her waist, glittery
green ribbons woven into the strands. She'd never looked so human. Or so hot.

“I cooked you breakfast,” she said, grinning as she approached him. She kicked the door shut behind her, her hands occupied with a tray of food. “I'd never cooked before, but one of the blood-slaves helped me. I hope you like the results.” She sounded unsure, nervous.

His chest did that constricting thing. “Thank you. I'm sure I'll love it.” And even if he didn't, she'd never know.

Still grinning, she closed the rest of the distance and sat at the edge of the bed, balancing the tray in his lap. “I hate to rush you, but you're expected below. I wasn't able to keep your location secret—everyone sensed you, and since you're here, the councilmen would like you to preside over their morning meeting.”

The scent of pancakes, sausage and syrup wafted to his nose, and his mouth watered. “We don't have time for a council meeting.” Not that he planned to go to school. Was this even a weekday? He couldn't remember. Still. They
had
to get some answers out of their witch. They'd run out of time.

“It will only last an hour, and it'll be better if you attend. They decided not to punish me for breaking the rules and seeing you, since they were desperate to speak with you. If you don't, you'll be hounded or
even followed. If you do, we can leave without incident afterward.”

A worthy reward. “What will be expected of me?” He took a bite of the pancakes and lost his train of thought. They were oversalted and raw in the middle, but he didn't allow himself to cringe. He chewed and he swallowed.

“Well?” she asked hesitantly.

“Delicious,” he said, and smiled.

Her own smile bloomed. “I'm glad. So what do you think of my outfit?” She stood and twirled. “I borrowed everything from Stephanie.”

“You look amazing.” And she did.

Her grin widened as she reclaimed her seat beside him, her hip pressed against his. All that heat and softness…“Are you nervous?” he asked, his voice huskier than he'd intended. “About the meeting?”

She didn't have to ask which meeting he meant. They weren't discussing the council any longer. She nodded. “A little while ago, Riley told me that he went into town last night, and there were no witches. None. If they left Crossroads, that means they left us here to die.”

Aden pursed his lips and thought back to when the witches had surrounded him, Victoria, Riley and Mary Ann in the forest.

“We will call a meeting in one week's time,” one of them had said, “when our elders arrive. You will attend
that meeting, human. If you fail to do so, the people in this circle will die. Doubt me not.”

“Only I have to attend,” he said after swallowing a bite of the runny eggs. “But they were waiting until their elders arrived. The witch we captured told us that the elders were due to arrive any day. Maybe they're finally here.” His eyes widened. “Maybe…maybe we don't have to look for them. Maybe they'll find me.”

“That is my hope, though I will destroy them if they even scratch you. But we cannot rest our hopes on that. If we are wrong…”

Everyone he loved would die. His hopes sank. What could he do, then? How could he gain the information he sought? As he cleaned his plate, making sure to moan and grunt a few times as if he were consuming heaven itself, the souls tossed ideas around.

Mostly, they contemplated possessing the body of the captured witch, walking her into town and shouting until one of her friends appeared. Not bad, but that might just get Aden thrown into jail for disturbing the public or something like that.

The possessing thing, though… That might actually work.

“Here's what we're going to do,” he said, resolute. “When I finish with your people, I need you to take me to our witch. I'll possess her, and try and travel back
through her life, to last week and the following days, to see if she ever spoke to anyone about us.”

Victoria's electric blues widened. “That's brilliant!”

“Thank you.” He only prayed he didn't encounter static like he had with the nonhuman doctor.

Wait. What? Static? When had he been inside Dr. Hennessy's head?

“Before you face off with the witch, you need to be warded,” Victoria said, pulling him from his thoughts. “And perhaps I'll add extra wards to my body, too. I think I told you that my beast has been snarling for release more than usual lately. Ever since our kiss in that car…” She shivered, then shuddered. “I can barely stand the roars in my head—and the fear that comes with them. What if he gets out? Solidifies? What if he attacks you, like he seems to want?”

“I don't think he will,” Aden said. “Attack, I mean.” He couldn't know for sure until he actually faced the beast. He just remembered the way the thing had reached for him, as if to caress rather than rip apart. He could be wrong. He certainly had been before. “Let's worry about that later, okay?”

“You're right. Come. I'll take you to the meeting, and while you're in session, I'll gather the supplies we will need for the wards.”

 

A
DEN AND THE COUNCILMEN
sat in a room of black. Black walls, black metal table, black chairs, domed black
ceiling with a chandelier dripping with black crystals. The only decoration to be found was those strange symbols. The wards. They covered every flat surface in the chamber.

All eyes were focused on him, and some of those eyes were glued to the pulse hammering away in his neck. Some of the vamps even licked their lips. He was almost afraid they'd demand a snack, and his blood would be the only food available.

Un-com-fort-able,
Caleb sang.

Maybe, I don't know, do something,
Julian said.

Elijah sighed.
I want to leave. I don't like this
.

Aden cleared his throat.

Several of the men shook their heads and found their wits.

“We have much to cover today, so let's get started. First order of business,” one of them said. Aden was having a hard time telling them part, and for the life of him, he couldn't recall their names. “Many challenges have been issued.”

“Challenges?” Aden asked.

With the question, an entire conversation took place around him, as if he weren't even there.

“Several of our elite wish to challenge you for control of the crown.”

“I'm only surprised they didn't cut the boy's throat while he slept.”

“They feel there's no need for subterfuge, that he's too weak to handle them. They'll learn otherwise, of course.”

“Anyone strong enough to kill the man who killed Vlad deserves our respect. But I think their refusal to launch a sneak attack is based more on their desire to have the entire congregation witness the new king's defeat. Such confidence is foolish, I think, and they deserve what they get.”

“And don't forget the wolves. The elite wanted to act honorably so they wouldn't anger the wolves.”

Nice,
but Aden couldn't worry about any of that now. “Hello, everyone. Have you noticed my presence? I'm here, and I'd appreciate it if you spoke to me rather than about me.” When they nodded, shamed, he added, “Thank you. Now, I'm happy to address your concerns.”

“We are on your side, Majesty.”

“And I'm grateful. Please tell my detractors that I accept their challenge. Later. We'll set dates for…two weeks from now?” Hopefully by then, the witches would be taken care of and he'd have already picked out his replacement, so the challengers could fight themselves.

The thought brought a tide of anger. A replacement? Hell, no.

He shoved the silly emotion—and the thought—aside.

What are you doing?
Elijah demanded.

Caleb gasped.
You're actually going to fight them?

“Excellent. We did not doubt, not for a single moment, that you would take your duties seriously.” All of the councilmen nodded, and one of them banged a gavel—a black gavel, of course—over the tabletop. “Next order.”

“The use of colors,” someone said with obvious displeasure. “There have been complaints.”

“Why did you authorize the incorporation of such…human colors? Not that I wish to question your judgment, but we have traditions, you see.”

The councilmen's eyes flew to him. They looked so serious, so grave. “
I'm
human,” he reminded them.

A murmur of “as if we could forget” arose.

“Perhaps, if we limited the use of color to personal bedchambers…”

“And clothing,” Aden said, a picture of Victoria in her pink tank top rising in his mind.

There was a sigh, a few nods.

“Agreed,” the one with the gavel said, and then added, “done,” and then he tapped that gavel over the tabletop. “Next order. The dating.”

Another murmur arose, only this time, Aden couldn't make out the words. Victoria hadn't exaggerated. As quickly as this meeting was moving, it wouldn't last more than an hour.

Then he heard the words “Your chosen,” and stiffened.

“You haven't given the girls a sufficient chance, Majesty, yet you shared a bedroom with Princess Victoria last night.”

“I don't need to give the others a chance.” Aden gripped the edge of the table. “I know what I want. Know who I want. I've made that clear from the beginning.”

“Why can't you simply wed them all?” someone suggested. “Vlad had many wives.”

The man makes a good point, Ad,
Caleb said.
You should consider
—

I want to slap you,
Julian muttered.

Boys,
Elijah interjected.
Let Aden answer the guy
.

The answer was simple. Because one, Aden didn't want the other girls and two, Victoria would go crazy. While some Neanderthal part of him still liked the thought of her jealousy, he wouldn't put her through that. “I'm not Vlad,” he ended up saying. “I desire only one.”

You're ruining everything!
Caleb sulked.

“Besides, Victoria and I aren't getting married.” Yet. “We're too young.”

Another murmur. This time, he had no trouble discerning what was being said.