Intertwined (25 page)

Mary Ann pushed to legs that still didn’t want to hold her
up. “I’m going upstairs to pack my bag. I’m not running away,” she assured her dad when he jumped up. “I just need a little time. I’ll stay with a friend. I need to do this, and you owe it to me.”

His shoulders slumped. He was in his thirties, but just then he looked like a used up old man on the verge of death. “Which friend? What about school? What about work?”

“I don’t know yet, but don’t worry. I won’t miss a day of school. Work, though, I’m going to call in sick.” And it wouldn’t be a lie. She’d never been so heartsick.

“Take the car, at least.”

“No, I—”

He held up his hand, cutting her off. “Take the car or stay here. Those are your only options.” He reached into his desk, withdrew the key and tossed it at her.

She missed and had to bend over to pick it up. Her muscles were protesting so violently she almost couldn’t stand back up.

“Take this, too,” he said. He unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk. This time he pulled out a yellowed notebook. “It was your mother’s. Anne’s.”

All this time, he’d had something of her mother’s, her real mother’s, and he’d kept it from her. She claimed it with a shaky hand, wanting to hate him. Silent, she left the office and went to her room to pack. Her backpack was lighter than normal, as it was usually filled with books rather than clothing, but it weighed her down more than ever.

As she drove away, the house she’d lived in most of her life fading from the rearview mirror, tears poured down her cheeks, hot and unceasing. She mourned the mother she’d
never met, the father she’d thought she had known, and the innocence that had once surrounded her.

She wanted to blame her dad for it all, but she couldn’t, not after reading between the lines of his story.
She
might very well have killed her mother.

Like Aden, her mother had been able to time travel. That meant, also like Aden, her mother had possessed a supernatural ability. Mary Ann negated those abilities. The moment of her conception, her mother had stopped time traveling. That was fact. During the nine months she’d been inside her mother’s womb, she’d weakened her, draining her strength bit by bit. Also fact. And then, the moment of her birth, her mother had simply stopped
being
. Because of her?

For hours she drove, fighting to get herself under control—and losing. The journal taunted her. She circled the neighborhood, then drove past the D and M, stopping, realizing she was too emotional to go inside, then backtracking to her own neighborhood. The moon was high, golden. Traffic was thinning by the minute, as were the number of people working on their yards or simply relaxing outside. But what hid in the shadows, waiting to strike? She was afraid of the answer.

She spotted the wolf running alongside the car a few miles from her house. She recognized the black fur, the glowing green eyes, and pulled to the side of the road. Good thing she’d stopped. The tears blurred her vision. Worse, there was a sob lodged in her throat, one she couldn’t rid herself of. It was there, scraping against her voice box, sharp and burning, as if covered in acid.

Wait for me
, Riley told her inside her head.

She couldn’t. She needed him, but she also needed to be alone. Most of all, she needed…she didn’t know what. To get away, to forget. Mary Ann jumped from the car and just started running. Running from what she’d learned, running from the pain and the uncertainty. Tears continued to pour from her. The wolf gave chase, paws slapping against the ground.

He caught up to her and jumped on her back, knocking her to the ground. She lay there, without breath and unable to move.
Dangerous out here
, he said in her mind.
Go back to the car. Now.

He was right, she knew he was, but she stayed where she was, sobbing, choking. His warm tongue stroked her cheek, the corner of her eye.

Please, Mary Ann. You don’t want to face a goblin.

She nodded and stood, then tripped her way back to the car. He didn’t hop in as she expected but trotted into nearby trees. Only a few minutes passed before he reappeared in human form. He wore a wrinkled shirt and pair of slacks, both obviously pulled on hastily. Hinges squeaked as he entered, and then the lock clicked into place when he was settled.

“I’m sorry if you were hurt back there,” he said. “Like I said, goblins are out tonight and I didn’t want them to catch your scent. My brethren are tracking them, and I didn’t want you in their sights, either.”

She turned on him. “Where have you been?” The words were a screech, blazing from her, followed quickly by another sob. Her entire body shook with it, not stopping,
only increasing in intensity until she was once again choking, gagging, lost to the grief and the anger. At herself, her father.

“Hey, hey,” Riley said, lifting her out of the seat and onto his lap. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Tell me.”

Sweetheart. He’d called her sweetheart. It was so wonderful, so welcome, yet it made her cry even harder. Between sobs, she told him what she’d learned. He cradled her the entire time, soothing her with his hands, with the same little coos she’d given Penny. And then he was kissing her, his lips meshed against hers, his tongue warm and sweet and wild, his fingers tangled in her hair.

For a moment, lights illuminated them as a car drove past and they froze. But the moment darkness once more swathed them, they were kissing again. It, too, was wonderful and beautiful and hotter than anything she’d ever done. Her hands were tangled in his hair, his were tangled in hers. They were pressed against each other, soaking each other in. She felt safe, even though she was drowning in sensation, in him; she never wanted it to end. She wanted to linger, as he’d once told her to do.

“We have to stop,” he rasped.

Clearly they weren’t on the same page. “Don’t want to.” With his arms around her like this, she didn’t have to think, could only feel
him
and the happiness of being with him.

His thumb caressed her cheek. “Trust me. It’s for the best. We’re in a car and out in the open. But we can—will—pick this up later.”

Though she still wanted to protest, she nodded.

“Now, where were you headed?” he asked, his concern returning.

After a deep, shuddering breath, she said, “As soon as I got my emotions under control, I was going to the ranch where Aden lives. I was going to somehow sneak him out and drive him to where his parents live. Or used to live. Did I tell you we were born at the same hospital on the same day?”

“No.” Riley’s head tilted to the side and his hands, which were still wound around her, stopped drawing circles on her back. “That’s odd.”

“I know.”

“And significant, I’m sure.”

“I agree. It can’t be a simple coincidence. After we visit his parents, I want to go to the hospital where he—
we
—were born.”

“I’ll go with you. Victoria is on her way to Aden’s now. We can pick them both up.” He opened the door and emerged, easily lifting her with him, then walked around and settled her in the passenger seat. “I’ll drive.”

When he was behind the wheel, she said, “Where did you go when we split? I was worried.”

The engine revved and he eased onto the now empty road. He drove so easily it was as if the car were simply an extension of himself. “I had to help Victoria with a problem. And I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he added, twining their fingers and lifting her hand to his lips, “I still can’t tell you what that problem is. Victoria hasn’t told Aden and he should be the first to know.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Of course.”

He flicked her a glance, his eyes darkening, his lips slightly swollen and red—probably mirrors of hers. “You amaze me. Anyone else would be tossing a stream of questions or accusations my way, hoping to break me.”

“Not my style.” Or hadn’t been until today. People revealed their secrets when they were ready. Pushing them only gave birth to bitterness. As for her dad’s secrets, he might not have been ready to reveal them and he might resent her later, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. They’d never truly belonged to him.

“For what it’s worth, your father loves you,” Riley said, clearly catching the crux of her thoughts. “That makes you very lucky. I have no parents. They died not long after my birth, so I was raised by Victoria’s father, who believes boys should be warriors, weakness not something to be tolerated. I learned to fight with all manner of weapons at the age of five and killed my first enemy at the age of eight. And when I was injured…” Red stained his cheeks. He looked away from her, cleared his throat. “There was no one to hold me, no one to kiss me and make me better.”

She would, she decided. From then on, she would be there to comfort him. As he had comforted her this night.
As Carolyn had done for her
. Knowing he had endured such a terrible childhood only intensified her feelings for him. To have never received a hug or had someone to pat him on the head and tell him how wonderful he was, was criminal. To force him to war, even more so.

Despite the lies, she realized she was lucky to have had her childhood, her parents.

“
You
amaze
me
,” she said. And he liked her. He’d admitted it, kissed her. What did that mean for them, though? “Do you think…could you…has one of your kind ever…you know, dated one of mine?”

His hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles leaching of color. “No. Werewolves live much longer than humans, so dating one is considered the epitome of stupid.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t hide her disappointment. She’d hoped. And had been looking forward to being stupid.

“But we will find a way to do so,” he said.

“Oh,” she said again, but this time she was smiling.

I
T WAS AFTER
Aden finished his nightly chores that he noticed his eyes were shutting down, narrowing his field of vision until he saw only slivers of light. Unsure what was happening, he holed up in his bedroom. He couldn’t lock the door because, as of today, Shannon was his new roommate. Apparently Ozzie had been caught sneaking drugs into Aden’s room earlier that day (just as Aden had feared).

For once, luck had been on his side and Dan had witnessed what was happening from outside the window. Or maybe it had been an aftereffect of his time traveling. Either way, the police had come out and carted Ozzie off. He was currently being held in a detention center and would not be returning to the ranch.

That eliminated one of Aden’s worries.

Dan had noticed the new friendship between Aden and Shannon and, in an apparent effort to encourage it, had moved Shannon into Aden’s room. It was weird, no longer being alone at the ranch. Even weirder, Brian, Terry, Ryder and
Seth had been nice to him all day. Without Ozzie’s influence, they now seemed to consider him one of their own.

Aden felt as if he’d somehow ended up in a new dimension, or an alternate world.

He stumbled his way to the bed, the bottom bunk, and sprawled out. What was wrong with him? Was he going blind? If so, why? Even as he wondered, what little light he could see was disappearing, leaving only shrouding black.

“What’s wrong with me?” he muttered, panicking.

Victoria’s blood, maybe
, Eve said.

She did warn you there would be complications
, Caleb said. Then he whistled.
God, she’s hot. When are you going to kiss her again?

Victoria’s blood. Of course. Relief sparked inside him, only to be quickly doused. A dull ache sprang to life in his head, knocking against his temples. How long would the pain and blindness last?

The door squeaked open, then closed. Footsteps shuffled, clothes rustled.

“You okay, man?” Shannon asked. His voice was rough, his throat still clearly raw. “You look awful.”

He hadn’t stuttered, even a little. Perhaps the lack of Ozzie’s constant teasing and the confidence of knowing he had real friends had had an impact.

“Not doing so well.” Aden could feel his friend’s body heat, and knew he was close. “Are we alone?”

“Yes.”

If Victoria came over—where was she? What was she
doing?—he wanted to be ready. Well, as ready as a guy in his condition could be.

“The window…girl…”

“Say no more. I’ll leave it unlocked.”

A moan escaped him as the ache in his head mutated into a sharp throb, pounding against every inch of his skull like a battering ram, determined to split it open. He almost hoped it did. Then the pain could escape. Pain so intense even his companions felt it, moaning along with him.

Just when he thought he could stand it no longer, multihued pinpricks of light suddenly flared—
behind
his eyes. A scene began to take shape: a darkened alleyway, softly lit by the streetlights beyond it. Every so often a car would pass the alley, but hidden as he was, he was safe from observation. He was glad. His keen sense of smell let him know that no one besides him and his meal were present, no one could watch what he was about to do, and that was good, he thought, very good. Only, it wasn’t his thought. It didn’t spring from his mind. It was a little desperate, a lot hungry. Even shamed.

He was standing behind a man, a man who appeared to be of average height, and yet Aden was at eye level instead of towering over him. He had one pale, dainty hand on the guy’s head, angling it to the side, the other on the guy’s shoulder, holding him steady.

Pale? Dainty? Those were not his hands, yet they were extensions of his body. He glanced down. Nope. Not his body, either. This one wore a black robe and had sweet curves.

Victoria, he realized. He must be living this scene through
Victoria’s eyes. Was it happening now? Or had it happened earlier? Was it a memory?

“You are a naughty boy,” Aden said, but it wasn’t his voice. It was Victoria’s. Never had he heard such a cold, unrelenting tone. He could feel her fury, could still taste her consuming hunger, yet she gave neither away.

Have to stay strong
, she was thinking.
Have to protect Aden, Riley and Mary Ann. My friends. My only friends. Oh, God. When Aden learns about Dmitri…don’t think about that right now. Eat.

Aden experienced a jolt. Dmitri, the boy who had come to Aden’s window, who had watched him with Victoria, who had scared Victoria enough to send her fleeing. His hands fisted the cotton beneath him.

“You hit your wife and your son, and you think yourself so superior,” she sneered. “When the truth is you’re really just a sniveling coward who deserves to die in this urine-scented alley.”

The man trembled. She’d already commanded his lips to remain sealed, his voice box to cease working, so he couldn’t talk, couldn’t even whimper.

“But I won’t kill you. That would be too easy. Now you’ll get to live with the knowledge that you were bested by a little girl.” She laughed cruelly. “A little girl who will hunt you down if ever you touch your wife and child in anger again. And if you think I will not know, think again. I saw what you did to them only this morning, didn’t I?”

The man’s trembling increased.

Having made her point, Victoria savagely bit into his neck.
There was nothing slow and gentle about it, as she’d done to Aden. She dug her fangs deep, hitting tendon. The man’s body jerked, his muscles spasmed. She was careful not to allow any of her saliva to seep into his vein, which would have made the experience better for him. It would have drugged him, as Aden had felt drugged.

The metallic smell of blood saturated the air, and Aden breathed it in deeply, exactly as Victoria was doing. She loved it, her hunger luxuriating in it, and he found that through her senses, he loved it too. His mouth was watering, his throat swelling with need.

Why can’t I change their natures? Why can I only play with their memories? What good do I do?
On and on she drank, until the man’s legs buckled. That’s when the direction of her thoughts changed.
Thank God Aden isn’t here. I’m an animal, an animal with blood all over her face.

Her teeth pulled free, and she released him. He fell to the pavement, his head knocking against the Dumpster in front of him.

Victoria bent and cupped his chin in her hands. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow, choppy. Blood dripped from two puncture wounds in his neck.

“You will not remember me or what I did and said to you. You will remember only the fear you felt at my words.” And maybe, just maybe, that fear would actually spur him to change his ways. Maybe not. Either way, she’d done all she could. Except kill him, and that she was forbidden to do.

One did not go against her father’s laws. The first time she’d
accidentally killed, she’d been warned. The next and final time—for she’d learned her lesson well—she’d been flogged with a whip laced with je
la nune
, the substance in her ring.

She opened that ring now, dipped a finger inside and pressed her nail against her fingertip. Instantly her skin sizzled open, creating a pinprick wound. The burn…it rushed through every part of her, blistering, leaving her gasping and out of breath.

Aden cried out, feeling it himself.

Twice she’d done that for him, first to show him that she could and then to feed him her blood, yet she’d never betrayed the brutality of her pain. Because she hadn’t wanted him to feel guilty, he realized. Not when she already felt so undeserving of him.

He shook his head in wonder.

Not wanting to put her mouth on the man again and lick him to health, she placed a drop of her blood on each of the punctures. Flesh began to weave back together, pink and healthy as it closed the wounds, leaving no trace of injury. She stood, hunger assuaged, body strong—fury renewed. She hated relying on the depraved for her survival, but preferred them to the innocent and purposely sought them out.

Never again, Aden thought. He would make himself and his blood readily available to her. She would drink from no one but him. He would hide the wounds so that no one saw them or she would heal them. But either way, she wasn’t hurting herself like that again.

“Better?” a deep voice asked from behind her.

Slowly she spun. Her gaze lifted and Dmitri came into view. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his massive
chest. At least six-foot-four, he towered over Victoria. Blond hair was smoothed back from his perfect face. His pale skin seemed to glow. But Aden knew all that beauty hid a monster.

She wiped her face with the back of her wrist and nodded. “You need to return to the house,” she said, giving the falling moon a pointed glance. “You have a long run and morning is fast approaching.”

Lips cocked in a fond smile, he straightened and closed the distance between them. He reached out and wiped a smear of blood from her chin. She turned her head, dislodging his touch, and his smile flipped into a frown. “From now on, you’re supposed to go where I go. That means you return home with me.”

Control your anger. Do not challenge him.
She smiled sweetly. “Every time you force my hand, I only hate you more.”

His eyes narrowed. “Resisting me is pointless, princess.”

“Actually, it’s not. Anything that keeps you away from me serves a very important purpose.”

A red glow seeped into the darkness of his eyes. “This is about the boy, isn’t it?”

She raised her chin to hide her tremor of fear. “This is about you and the fact that I want nothing to do with you.”

Faster than the eye—even her eye—could see, he leaned down, placing them nose to nose. “I am everything you need. Strong, capable.”

“You are just like my father,” she countered, refusing to back down. “You see others’ spirit as an insult to your prowess. You rule with an iron fist, you punish indiscriminately.”

He waved a dismissing hand. “Without order, there would be chaos.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Is that what the boy offers you? Chaos? I am not as stupid as you must think. I know you want him.” He wrapped his hands around her forearms and shook her. “You will not be returning to that mortal school, princess. I forbid it.”

Control, control, control.
“That is not for you to decide.”

“It should be.” He gave her one final shake, then released her, doing his best to appear unaffected. “One day, it
will
be.”

“But for now, it isn’t.” She couldn’t stop her smile. Putting the bane of her existence in his place was like finding a chalice that never ran out of blood. “You are still answerable to my father.”

He bared his sharp teeth in a scowl. His fangs were so long they cut into his bottom lip. “That will not always be the case.”

“That sounds like a threat. You know the penalty for that, yes? Even for you, a prince in your own right.”

Dmitri stared down at her for a long while. Finally, he said, “Go. Have your fun. Enjoy your chaos. It will end soon whether you want it to or not.”

Victoria remained in place as he stalked away, breathing in the night to calm herself. Finally, when he disappeared, she leapt into motion, racing, the wind in her hair, free to be herself, to enjoy. Buildings whizzed past her, then trees. On and on she traveled, worries falling away from her as the leaves fell from their branches. The scents of the night drifted to Aden’s nose, dew and dirt and animal.

Only when the D and M came into view did she slow. There, up ahead, was his window. Open for her. Two heartbeats were beyond it. She recognized both: Aden’s, a little faster than normal, and Shannon’s, slow and steady. One was lost in a vision, she would bet, the other sleeping peacefully.

Almost there…She glided past the glass.

Warm hands banded around Aden’s shoulders and shook him. He blinked open his eyes, surprised and disappointed to find the bedroom coming into focus. Even though he should be relieved his blindness had ended, he wasn’t ready to leave Victoria’s head. He marveled anew at her strength. She had lived through that, had stood toe to toe with Dmitri and hadn’t backed down.

Aden had wanted to leap between them, throw the vampire male to the ground and cart Victoria away.

“Aden,” she whispered.

Like the first time he’d seen her, she hovered over him, hair cascading around his face and enclosing them in a dark curtain. Unable to stop himself, he reached up and traced a finger over her cheek. She closed her eyes, black lashes casting shadows over her cheeks.

“Shannon is—”

“Sleeping,” she told him.

Yes, he’d known that. Because of Victoria, he’d even sensed his friend’s heartbeat for a moment. “Thank you. For everything.”

She regarded him, unsure, but she didn’t pull from his touch. “What did you see?”

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “You, feeding. You and Dmitri talking.”

“Everything, then.” She sighed. “You’re probably wondering how that’s possible.”

He nodded.

“Once a vampire ingests human blood, it enters our system and…transforms, I guess is the word. It becomes alive with all that we are. Our thoughts, our emotions, our very essence. The small portion I gave you healed your injuries, but it also linked you to my mind.”

“Will I be able to see things through your eyes again?”

“I don’t know.” A butterfly touch caressed the side of his now healed eye. He felt the fire of her skin and loved it. “While I’ve heard of a few others doing so, I’ve never shared my blood with another. Well, I do share droplets to close the puncture wounds, as I told you, but because it isn’t ingested, the humans never link to me.”

So she’d given him what she’d never given another. His love for her grew, spread. “Who is Dmitri to you?” The guy had spoken as if he owned her, and that had burned Aden up inside.

Her gaze lowered to his chest, and her fingers soon followed, playing over him. “He is someone I despise very much. Someone I—” Her ears perked and she straightened. “Riley is here. His heart is racing.” Her brow furrowed, her head tilted and she frowned. “He needs us right away.”