Intertwined (26 page)

Aden rose without hesitation and glanced down at himself. He was dressed in the clothes he’d worn all day, wrinkled and dirty from his work in the barn. “I need five minutes.”

“Very well. He says we will be gone all weekend and has even ensured no one will miss us,” Victoria said. “Pack a bag and I will take care of Dan and the boys. They’ll never know you left. I’ll meet you outside.” With that, she was off.

He showered quickly, dressed and packed a bag as she’d suggested, throwing in a pair of jeans, a few T-shirts, his toothbrush and toothpaste. Bad breath was not something he wanted to have while around Victoria. Already her senses were better than most.

As promised, she was waiting for him outside. Wet as his hair was, the cool night air gave him a chill and he had to wrap an arm around her to warm back up.

Riley and Mary Ann had a new, probably stolen sedan parked about a half mile from the ranch. Riley stood outside it, tugging a shirt over his head when they emerged from the shadows.

“Get in,” the shape-shifter said. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” He slipped into the driver’s seat, and Mary Ann leaned into him, head remaining buried in a notebook.

Aden and Victoria claimed the back. Victoria rested her head against his shoulder. Not because she was sleepy—Aden hadn’t sensed fatigue in her and wasn’t sure she even needed rest—but simply to be near him. He was glad. A part of him feared he could lose her any moment, that someone—Dmitri perhaps—would rip her away from him and he’d never see her again. Did she fear the same thing?

“We won’t be parted,” he assured them both and she nodded.

We would never let that happen,
Julian said.

Elijah sighed.
As if we could stop it. From the very beginning, I warned you bad things would happen if you followed Mary Ann
.

Yes, he had. Aden had run full speed ahead anyway, and he still couldn’t regret it.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“I’ll let Mary Ann tell you,” Riley said.

Mary Ann just mumbled something unintelligible under her breath and kept reading.

Aden let it drop, not wanting to interrupt whatever had the girl so entranced. He soon regretted the decision, though. A long while passed in silence, Mary Ann never looking up from that book, Riley concentrating on the road and Victoria lost in thought. Curiosity pounded him.

Aden closed his eyes. With as little rest as he’d gotten lately, his body constantly wired and ready to fight, a nap might do him good. In and out he breathed, forcing the tension to leave him with every exhalation.

After a while, he thought he heard Riley say softly, “You have to tell him, Vic.”

“I will,” Victoria replied just as softly, her words barely audible. “And don’t call me that.”

Tell him what? He waited for their conversation to continue, but it never did. “So what’s going on?” he asked, straightening. Victoria jumped, hand fluttering over her heart.

“Oh my God,” Mary Ann said, preventing the others from replying.

“What?” they all asked in unison.

Mary Ann turned and faced him, watery eyes rimmed with red. “You’re not going to believe this. Our mothers—wait.” She rubbed at her temples. “I think I need to start at the beginning. Otherwise, you’ll never believe me. First, our birth certificates came, and it turns out I have two moms. The one who died after giving birth to me and the one who raised me. Second…” She showed Aden the two birth certificates. His eyes widened as he noted their matching birthdays and the exact place of their birth.

“What does it mean?” he asked. “About you and me?”

Her gaze was solemn. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. All I know right now is that my mother, my real mother, could time travel like you until she got pregnant with me, and that she lived next door to yours. Look here.” She held up the certificates again and pointed to their addresses. “I missed it the first few glances because I was so hung up on our birth date and the hospital thing. Actually, I don’t think I would have realized it at all if not for my mother’s journal.

“In one passage, she talked about her neighbor Paula, who was pregnant, as well, only two weeks ahead of her. She talked about how she’d felt calmer when she was around Paula, after an initial creep-out—her words, not mine—so she talked my dad into giving up their apartment and renting the house next door to Paula. But the more advanced her and Paula’s pregnancies became, the more the creep-out feeling returned until they stopped hanging out. She said it became painful for her to be near the woman. Aden, your mother’s name is Paula. They were pregnant with
us
.”

What did it mean that their mothers had lived next to each other, felt drawn to each other? Enough to have their children on the same day? What did it mean that it had become painful for them to be around each other?

So your parents lived next to each other, and you were born on the same day
, Elijah said,
and in the same place.
There was something in his tone, something both hard and soft that Aden couldn’t identify. Were they on the same wavelength?
And you can now do what her mother used to do, what
Mary Ann
stopped her mother from doing. What she stops
you
from being able to do.

Maybe not. “What are you saying?” he demanded.

Everyone in the car eyed him strangely.

“Give me a minute,” he said. Their brows remained puckered, but they nodded. He closed his eyes, concentrating only on the people inside his head. “Elijah?”

Think about it, about the similarities.

Similarities. Aden’s mom had calmed Mary Ann’s mom. Mary Ann now stopped Aden. But the fact that Aden could do so, the fact that he possessed the same ability…Dear God.

Eve gasped.
I’ve connected the dots. You can’t mean
—

I do
, Elijah replied flatly.

A tremor moved through Aden. The thought was surreal and wild. Could it be true, though?

“You’ve felt connected to her since the beginning, Eve,” he said.

Yes, I have, but that doesn’t mean what you’re thinking.

“What if I did indeed draw you into my head the day of my birth? We agree you’re human souls without bodies of your own. What if you’re actually ghosts? What if you died the day of my birth, in the hospital I was in? What if you, Eve, really are Mary Ann’s—

I can’t be her mother! I just can’t. I would remember my own child.

And there it was. Out in the open. Eve might very well be Mary Ann’s mother.

“Had you remained outside my body, yes, you might have. But you didn’t. You were sucked into me, or maybe even forced yourself into me for whatever reason, your memories washed. Probably because I was just an infant and my mind wasn’t capable of containing or processing four full lifetimes.”

No
, she said on a trembling breath.
No. There’s just no way
.

He didn’t give up. Now that the idea had been planted, he couldn’t. “That would explain why I’ve wanted to hug her, why she’s wanted to hug me. I think you sensed each other on a soul-deep level.”

“What are you saying, Aden?” Mary Ann’s voice reached him from the darkness, trembling and unsure.

Just like that, another realization slammed into Aden. If the souls were indeed confused ghosts, then he had only to help them to free them. He had only to help them do the one thing they regretted not being able to do. Like John, they would then float away, presumably to the hereafter. They wouldn’t get bodies of their own, but at least they would have peace.

Elijah had already predicted it. One of his companions
would soon go free. Which meant, one of his companions was about to have their last wish granted. As motherly as she was, would Eve’s last regret have been not seeing her daughter? Not talking with her, not holding her? Would that be what she’d craved above all else?

There was only one way to find out…

“Pull over, Riley. I think it’s time for Mary Ann to meet her mother.”

I
NSTEAD OF DOING
as Aden had asked, Riley kept driving until he reached a motel. Victoria procured a room (free of charge), and the four of them locked themselves inside. Strangely enough, none of them spoke during the twenty minutes it took. Mary Ann was glad; she was a jumble of nerves.

Of all the things she’d come to accept these last few weeks—werewolves, vampires, witches and fairies, flesh-eating goblins and straight-from-hell demons—this would top them all. Her mother, a woman she herself had never known, had been trapped inside of Aden all this time? So close to her, yet so unattainable? Impossible. But that’s what Aden had been implying. That’s what he wanted her to believe.

Trembling, she stood at the threshold of the room and peered inside. There was a dresser, a nightstand with a TV and two twin beds. Aden crossed over and eased onto the edge of one, facing her but not looking at her. He was as pale as Victoria, who settled next to him.

Riley sat on the other bed and waved Mary Ann over with
a crook of his fingers. Her body didn’t want to move; her feet felt rooted in place.
I can do this. I can
. Just the other day she’d hoped to talk to her mother’s ghost. A different mother, yeah, but then she hadn’t had all the facts.

She just kind of fell forward, forcing her too-heavy legs into action. But when she reached the bed, her knees gave out. Riley caught her and positioned her next to him. She flattened her sweaty palms on her thighs to prevent herself from reaching over and shaking someone. Had to press her lips together to prevent herself from screaming. This was too much, not enough, everything and nothing, hope and defeat all rolled into a beautifully frightening package.

“This can’t be right,” Riley finally said, breaking the silence. “One of the souls trapped inside you simply can’t be Mary Ann’s mother.”

“Her name is Eve,” Aden replied, “and that’s what she says, too.”

Mary Ann exhaled quickly. “Well, then, it’s settled. She’s not my mom. Besides, my mother’s name was Anne, not Eve.” She forced the words past the scream still lodged in her throat. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Aden’s Eve to be her mother. Having her mother nearby would be amazing. It was just that, to hope for the best and then later find out she was wrong…it would be like losing her mom all over again and she wasn’t sure she’d survive.

Aden pulled at his shirt collar. “The souls inside of me have no memory of their other lives. Of course their names are different. Besides, I helped pick them.”

“What makes you think they’re ghosts? I mean, they would have to be for one to be my mother. And I thought ghosts were a possibility for a while, too, but why haven’t you drawn other ghosts inside your head? Let’s think about this.” Did she sound as desperate to them as she did to herself? “My ability to negate others’ powers apparently worked while I was inside the womb, not allowing my mother to…time travel.” Saying that was hard, made it real. “That means your ability would have shown itself before your birth, as well.”

“True. But what if my mother was a neutralizer like you? I wouldn’t have drawn anyone until my actual birth, until I was carried away from her. We won’t know until we talk to her, if we find her. And as for why I haven’t drawn other people—or ghosts, or whatever they are—inside my head, maybe I was only vulnerable at birth. Maybe, even as a baby, I learned to guard myself. Maybe there wasn’t room for anyone else. That’s something we might not ever learn.”

She had no reply. Everything he said made sense and beat at her resolve.

“Right now, you and Eve have the chance to learn the truth. Do you really want to miss out on that?”

Did she? If she continued to hold on to her disbelief, she would remain emotionally guarded. If she opened herself up to the possibilities, she would be risking every ounce of her newfound happiness.

Riley’s warm hand curled around the back of her neck and he began massaging the muscles knotted there. With the touch, his strength seeped into her and changed the direction
of her thoughts. She wasn’t some mouse to be scared away from a dream come true so easily. After all, she had faced down a wolf, befriended a vampire and demanded answers from her father. She could do this, too.

And if, afterward, she needed to pick up the pieces of her shattered life once more, she would.

“No,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “I don’t want to miss anything.”

Aden nodded as though he’d expected such a reply. “I’m going to do something I haven’t done in years. Something I hate to do because I become like the souls, trapped inside a body that isn’t my own, control no longer mine.” His eyes were swirling, all the colors blending together. “I’m going to allow Eve to take control of the body. That means the next time I talk to you, it won’t be me. It’ll be Eve. Okay?”

Her nervousness intensified but she nodded.

His lids fell, shading those irises. In and out he breathed, every inhalation audible, every exhalation like the calm before a storm. “Eve,” he said. “You know what to do.”

An eternity passed. Nothing happened, nothing changed. Then he stiffened and a groan parted his lips.
Then
, his eyelids cracked open. The shimmer of colors was gone. Now his eyes were a hazel-brown. Like hers. She could only gape in wonder, the world around her gone. Aden was the only anchor she had at the moment, the only thing keeping her from floating away.

“Hello, Mary Ann,” he said. No, Eve said. It was Aden’s voice, and yet, there was a gentleness to it that had never been present before.

She shivered, the urge to hug him stronger than ever before. “Hello.”

“Should we leave?” Victoria asked.

“You can’t,” Aden-Eve said. “Without Riley, Mary Ann blocks Aden’s abilities. I wouldn’t be able to hold on to the body.”

They lapsed into an awkward silence.

“This is silly,” Mary Ann said. “There’s no way we’ll figure this out. I don’t know anything about my mother, and you don’t know anything about her, either. You don’t know anything about me.” She was surprised by the bitterness in her tone. Not for Eve, but for the things she had missed.

You do know something about her
, she reminded herself. The journal. One passage was already burned into her memory.

Sadly, she probably had.

“Do you remember anything about your life?” Mary Ann asked. “Before Aden, I mean?”

A shake of that dark head. “No. I’ve tried. We’ve all tried. I think there are memories just waiting to be freed. I mean, I can feel
something
swirling in my consciousness, but I just can’t seem to get to it.” A sigh. “We all have thoughts and feelings, fears and desires we can’t explain any other way.”

“What are yours?” she dared to ask.

A fond smile. “I’ve always been the mother hen, as Aden calls me. The protector. The scolder.” That dark gaze lowered, and the smile faded away. “I’ve always loved children and feared being alone. Perhaps that’s why I didn’t help Aden try to find a way to free us as doggedly as I should have. But that’s my cross to bear.”

The nuances of Eve’s personality fascinated her, and she found herself comparing her to the little she knew about her mother. So far, they meshed. “You met my father during a therapy session. Do you remember that?”

“Yes.”

“Did you feel anything for him? Like an unexplainable need to hug him, the way Aden says you feel for me?” A need Mary Ann still battled herself.

“I felt a fondness for him, a sense of gratitude. At the time, I assumed those feeling were because of his treatment of Aden. He sat down with the boy, listened and didn’t judge.”

“Now?”

A shrug. “I’m not sure. Like Aden, I was just a child when I first met your father. I wouldn’t have known how to interpret something deeper, like what a husband and wife should feel for each other.”

Mary Ann threw her arms in the air. “How are we supposed to figure this out then?”

“I have control of the body now. I could travel back, maybe put myself inside a younger version of
me
. This is amazing!” Aden-Eve’s head tilted to the side; his lips lifted in another smile. “All the voices. Wow. I had forgotten how
difficult it is to tune everyone out. Aden’s reminding me that I have to have a specific piece of my life in mind to travel back and as I recall nothing about who I was, if I even was someone else, there’s nowhere for me to go but
his
past.”

Mary Ann chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. “There might just be a way.” Hand still shaking, more so now, she reached into her backpack and withdrew the journal. She clutched it to her chest, not wanting to release it, but after a moment’s hesitation, she forced herself to relinquish it. “This belonged to my mother. She wrote about her life. Perhaps, if you truly are her, something in there will spark a memory of your own.”

Did she want it to? Did she
not
want it to?

“Wonderful idea.” Aden-Eve’s hands were shaking just as violently as those strong fingers cracked the spine, settling on a page. “Today I am tired,” he read. “There is nothing on TV, but that’s okay. I have company. My precious angel, nestled close to my heart. Her kicks are strong today.” He rubbed his stomach, as if checking for signs of life. “She’s craving apple pie. Maybe I’ll bake her one. I can almost smell the cinnamon, almost taste the melted ice cream.”

Aden flipped the page, hand shaking, and continued reading. “I was too tired to bake so Morris brought a pie home. The store only had cherry so it’ll have to do. I just hope my angel doesn’t start kicking up another fuss. She’s…he’s—Oh, my God.” Lips smacked together. “It’s almost like I can taste it.” Deep breath. “Smell it, too. I can even see it. I can really see it! The cherries are so red.” There was an excited
gasp, and then suddenly Aden was gone, the only indication he’d been there the dent in the mattress.

Victoria and Riley popped to their feet, both gazing around the room with concern. Mary Ann just clutched her stomach, tears of dread and that silly hope she’d tried so hard to deny pouring down her face, and waited for Aden-Eve to return, telling herself they’d merely gone back into a past version of Aden.

She didn’t have to wait long. Within three minutes, Aden was back on the bed as if he’d never left. His eyes were still hazel. Like Mary Ann, he was crying. Or rather, Eve was.

“I remember. I remember.” Eve launched herself at Mary Ann, arms wrapping around her. “Oh, darling baby. My darling baby. How I’ve waited for this day. Dreamed of it, all the days I carried you.”

At first, Mary Ann tried to remain immobile. This proved nothing, not to her. No one could remember an entire lifetime that quickly. Right?

“I went back. I was there, in the little house I shared with your dad. I was eight months pregnant and lying on the couch, rubbing my belly and singing you a lullaby, that bowl of cherry pie resting on top of me. I remember now. I remember. The walls had the most horrid floral wallpaper, and the furniture was threadbare, but clean, and I loved every stitch. The orange couch, the yellow loveseat. I’d worked as a waitress to help pay for everything. And since my first memory with Aden isn’t as your next-door neighbor, I’m guessing his parents moved him.” Her grip tightened. “All this time…if only they had stayed, I could have watched my angel grow up. My beautiful angel.”

Mary Ann remembered that floral wallpaper, the carrot couch, as she’d called it, and the sunshine lounge. She’d spent the first ten years of her life inside that house, climbing on that furniture, while her dad put himself through school, then worked like an animal to pay off his debts.

Carolyn could have changed the décor, but she hadn’t. She’d left everything the same. A tribute to the sister she’d both envied and mourned?

There was no way Eve could know those details. Unless…Mary Ann stopped breathing. It was true, then.
Eve really was her mother.
Eve really was her mother. For a moment, she was too stunned to react, her emotions numb. Then joy burst through her, joy in its purest form, undiluted, heady, leaving no part of her untouched.

Eve petted her hair. “Tell me your aunt Carolyn treated you well. Tell me your life has been happy.”

Her arms moved of their own accord, wrapping around Eve’s shoulders. They hugged as tightly as they’d longed to do since the beginning. Just then Mary Ann felt like she was finally home, enveloped in warmth and light and love.

“I was happy,” she worked past her throat. “She treated me like her own. And I think—I think she missed you. She changed nothing in the house, even picked up the bright color scheme when we moved, probably so that we’d both feel closer to you.”

“So she forgave me. Thank you for telling me that.” Eve pulled back and cupped her trembling chin, staring into her watery eyes. “Oh, my darling girl. I adored you from the
moment I first learned of you, imagining the two of us tending the garden together, shopping, you styling my hair, painting my nails and doing my makeup as I used to do to my mother. Your father named you after me and the hospital you were born at, I’m guessing.”

She nodded. With a whimper, she threw herself back into Eve’s arms. The tears were flowing freely now, burning her skin. She had what most people could only dream of: a second chance. A second chance to love, to apologize. “I’m so sorry I killed you. It was my fault. I drained you, stopped you from using your ability.”

“Oh, sweet baby, no. Don’t ever think that.” Eve ran her hands down Mary Ann’s back, soft, gentle. “You might have stopped my ability to go back for a redo, as I called it, but I was happy about that. I can’t tell you the number of times I screwed up my present by messing something up in the past. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t accidentally or even purposely go back, so the amazing future I saw for myself was secure. The nine months I carried you were the happiest of my life. What you gave me…I can never thank you enough. And my sweet darling, it was better for you that I wasn’t there. Knowing myself the way I do, I would have tried to go back and fix everything that went wrong in your life. I might have ruined you. Killed you. And I couldn’t have lived with that. Your father couldn’t have lived with that.