Twisted (16 page)

To Elijah's delight, every punch calmed him.

But Sorin didn't stay down for long and gave another kick. They were thrust apart. Aden slammed into the wall of spectators. Some fell with him, others pushed at him, but he felt the desires of their beasts. The desire to emerge and save him.

“No,” he yelled. “Don't. Stay.”

They obeyed, none slipping from their hosts and solidifying. How much time before they forgot his command and did as they wished? Probably not much. End this, he had to end this.

Sorin must have felt the same, because they leaped at each other, rolling together, throwing elbows and knees, going for soft spots—nose, throat and groin. Every new punch Aden threw would have fortified the calm, if every punch he received hadn't fanned the flames back up.

Soon blood was flowing from a gaping cut across Sorin's hairline. Blood that snared Aden's attention. Maybe because it was a vampire's blood. Maybe because it had the same sweet, dark scent as Victoria's.

Taste…must taste…

As distracted as he was, Sorin managed to knock him sideways. He stumbled into the spectators, and this time he could
hear
their beasts. Roars, so many roars. Still they remained in their cages, but just barely.

Would have served Sorin right to lose that way. To be humbled by the very beasts he'd mocked Aden for taming. But Aden had a point to prove, or Victoria's brother would never take him seriously.

Wait.
You're going to let him live?
He'd decided to end him, hadn't he?

Taste…

Aden shoved from the crowd and dove for Sorin. Again they rolled, again they twisted and fought like animals.

“I didn't want it to end this way, but I'm glad it did.” Sorin bared his fangs and swooped down to bite Aden's neck.

Only, he couldn't. His fangs wouldn't pierce the skin. The warrior was shocked, yes, but reacted as if he'd trained for such a thing. Before Aden could extract himself, Sorin raised his hand and removed the covering of a ring very similar to the one Aden wore. He dribbled the contents over Aden's neck. The burn was instantaneous, sweeping through his entire body in seconds and engulfing him with flames. Felt like it, anyway.

His throat clogged up, cutting off his air supply. His fury was joined by fear and pain, all three consuming him.

With a snarl, Sorin pinned him, his fangs drilling
deep into the wound. Suction. So much suction. Taking the flames and replacing them with ice. No matter how much Aden struggled, he couldn't dislodge those teeth.

When his struggles slowed, stopped, he knew. He was going to die.

The roaring inside his head increased so much, became so loud, it was all Aden could hear. Roaring, roaring, roaring—quieting now. No, not quieting, he realized hazily.
Leaving
him. Ripping at his insides. Rising from his head, something sharp shooting from his back. Soon a creature was hovering over him, moving beside him. A black mist, taking shape. A snout, wings, claws. Roaring, roaring, roaring, blending with gasps of terror.

Someone's beast had escaped.

Sorin was torn from him, fangs practically taking Aden's trachea with them. He lay there a moment, panting, sweating but cold. He could still win this, he thought. He hadn't admitted defeat, and he wasn't yet dead. How could he be, when every muscle and bone he possessed ached? First, though, he had to ensure Victoria's safety.

Gingerly he sat up, the wound in his neck pulling, stinging. Blood poured down him, washing away in the steady drizzle of rain. Dizziness was a bitch, and a while
passed before he could focus. When he did, he saw Victoria, her face pale, her cheeks wet with rain—and tears? Her chin was still trembling. She was no longer on her knees, but her brother's warrior was still beside her.

Relief speared him. She was okay.

“Aden,” she said, both dazed and frightened. “Your beast.”

Something whizzed through his line of vision, breaking their connection. He looked—and nearly choked on his own tongue. A baby beast, monster,
whatever
was chasing Sorin around the circle, nipping at him with saber teeth.

Your beast,
Victoria had said. That's what the mist had been. And it
had
risen from him. The rending of his insides, the sharp sting at his back…yeah, it had come from him.

The beast was smaller than any of the others Aden had seen, but no less fierce. Those wings stretched into razor sharp points. His scales were a glossy gray, like smoked, polished glass. His arms were short and thin but tipped with ivory claws. His hoofed and clawed feet slammed into the ground, disrupting grass and rattling metal.

He's mine,
Aden thought, dazed all over again.
He actually came from me.

And he's what I didn't want to happen, what I didn't want
any of you to know about,
Elijah said on a sigh.
He's been growing inside of you since that last day in the cave. He's who looked through Victoria's eyes before slamming into you and rendering you unconscious.

“How?” he managed to say despite his wound, having held the torn skin together.

He was birthed to life inside you with the first blood exchange, then entered Victoria's mind when we did, growing all the while, then finally stopping the switching altogether.

“Why keep him secret?” Good. His words were getting stronger, clearer.

I didn't want you or the dynamic duo to panic. Strong emotion was the only thing that could push him out, and yes, I'm purposefully using birthing language because that's basically what happened, and he wasn't ready to be pushed out. He's now, well, a preemie.

Which meant he was…what? Fragile? Vulnerable?

Hungry. He's very hungry, very determined, and will never be easily controlled. I didn't want to tell you, but you've been battling his nature, as well as Victoria's. You were doing an excellent job, too. Until this.

So what does this crap mean for us?
Caleb asked.

Elijah sighed.
The little guy's had a taste of freedom now. He will never be happy caged.

At least Aden survived the fight,
Julian pointed out.
You said he'd die without the pills.

No, I said he
could
die. There's a difference. A lot of new mothers die giving birth too soon, and that's what I saw.

Caleb snickered despite the severity of the circumstances.
Congrats, Ad. You're a mom. Why don't you breast-feed the little guy?

Julian chortled.

Finally the “little guy” captured Sorin and forced him to the ground, holding him by the stomach. And the funny thing: his own beast could have helped him, but he'd come to this fight without the creature.

Now go finish this fight,
Elijah said.
You've been given a golden opportunity. Let's use it and end this the right way.

Aden stood. Almost fell, but managed to limp over. Grinning, he opened his ring. “Payback.”
Je la nune
spilled over Sorin's neck, and
his
skin sizzled open, blood welling. Aden was careful not to splash the baby beast, who was watching him through starving, savage eyes.

While Sorin grunted from pain, Aden reached out and petted the—his—beast. “Good boy,” he said, scrambling for a name. Chompers Jr., maybe. Junior for short. Yeah, that worked.

Lips pulled back from sharpened teeth as the creature growled at him. Chompers and the others purred when
he petted them. Oh, well. At least Junior didn't release Sorin and snap at Aden.

Aden turned his attention to his opponent and bit hard, sucking back mouthful after mouthful of blood and loving every moment of it. Tasted just like Victoria's, just as he'd suspected it would. He might never stop, might take every drop,
needed
every drop. And wouldn't you know it, his beast purred about that, as if
he
could taste the blood, too.

Maybe he could. Junior released Sorin and joined Aden, drinking at Sorin's neck. Sorin bucked once, twice, before stilling.

We have to stop. If we don't, Sorin will die. He doesn't need to die. You've won.

Elijah again.

Ignored again.

No, he couldn't ignore the soul. Not this time. The outcome. Important. Victoria. Hate him. Love him. The words sliced through the bloodlust and Aden jolted upright, warmth fizzing over him as if he were showering in soda. Already his wounds were knitting back together. He reached out to Junior, but the little guy snarled at him before shaking Sorin's neck like a dog with a bone.

You'll have to wrestle him.

Great. Another fight. Aden dove for him, knocking
him down, away from the body and the blood. Wings flapped frantically, and those saber teeth made a play for his face.

A few of Sorin's warriors rushed forward, clearly intending to help their lord, who lay on his back, as motionless as the dead. “Don't,” Aden shouted as he struggled to subdue the creature, and they froze. “Leave, everyone leave.” Last thing he needed was for Junior to hurt someone else. Or to be hurt. “And no fighting, or I swear I'll release this one and end you all. You'll wait inside.”

Several pounding heartbeats of time passed before footsteps reverberated. Murmurs echoed. Then, only the three of them were left. Sorin, the struggling Junior and Aden. He was surprised at how easily the vampires and wolves had obeyed.

A long while passed like that, so long that the rain stopped. So long that Sorin healed enough to awaken and sit up.

The warrior shook his head, as if clearing cobwebs from his thoughts, then zeroed in on Aden. He could have stood and attacked, but he didn't. He'd lost. He knew it. Everyone knew it. He watched Aden through narrowed eyes.

“You're not human,” the warrior accused.

“Not anymore. Hell, maybe not ever.” Along with
a beast of his own, he now had the vampire voice and skin. Made him wonder what else had changed—what else he could do.

Miracle of miracles, Junior stilled. He was panting through thick, black nostrils. Aden continued to hold him, cooing soothingly. His eyelids gradually closed, and surprise surprise, Junior had long, curling eyelashes. He appeared almost…cuddly.

Soon his big body went lax, and the panting became snoring. Still Aden held on, not knowing what else to do, knowing only that the beast could awaken any second, start combating him again, and if he wasn't prepared, he'd be blood-buttered toast.

Then Junior's body began to fade, fade, until Aden was utterly saturated by the same sizzling black mist that had left him earlier. He sat up, the mist seeping into his pores, his bones, heating him into a high output furnace.

Weirdest. Thing. Ever. His brain basically scrambled with bewilderment. That was…that had been…he had no words.

Sorin was unfazed. “By the way, my beast is bigger than yours.”

“Not for long. Did you see the size of my guy's feet?”

Massive arms crossed over a massive chest. “Forget
the beasts. I've got a few things on my mind, Haden Stone.”

Hearing his full name always gave him pause. “Like the fact that you want another go at me? Well, come on. Let's get this over with. Because I am not going to let you come back for seconds at a later date. You either serve me now, or you die now. Those are your only two options.”

“I wasn't thinking of attacking,” the warrior said, standing carefully. He wobbled on his feet, walked over and held out a hand. “I was thinking I will never live this down. I was thinking we should have fought with swords. I was thinking…I want to help you up. King.” O-kay.
This
was officially the weirdest thing. A turn of events he never could have predicted. A turn of events Elijah
hadn't
predicted. Made him terribly uneasy, but he was too fatigued to argue.

“Thanks.” Aden didn't trust the man, but he slapped their palms together anyway.

T
HE VICTORY CELEBRATION
was in full swing before Aden and Sorin entered the house. Goblets of blood had been given to each of the vampires, and glasses of wine to each of the wolves and humans. Laughter abounded. The king had proven his strength and cunning, after all, and the people here had followed him wisely.

Whispered theories abounded, too, everyone wondering how a human had finally turned into a vampire, and if other humans could now be turned.

“We haven't tried a turning in so long, the circumstances that prevented our success could have altered.”

“But what were those circumstances? We've never known.”

“Could have been our blood. Or theirs.”

“I'd love to run some tests and find out.”

“Yes, but will the new king allow it?”

No one seemed to mind their cold, wet robe or
sopping hair, yet Victoria couldn't stop shivering. Her teeth were chattering so vigorously, she feared everyone in the massive ballroom could hear them over the angelic hum of the harp.

Stupid human skin.

As she claimed a goblet of blood for herself, determined to feed the still-weakening Chompers even if the thought of drinking blood currently upset her stomach anew, she panned her surroundings. The marbled floor, the glass walls, the columns stretching to a web of crystals on the ceiling.

In the center of that web was a glittering chandelier in the shape of a spider, eight legs seeming to move from one corner of the room to another. A lovely space, if you liked a darker, almost gothic atmosphere. She preferred colors and always had. Pink, yellow, blue. Even white. Anything but the black her father had always insisted upon.

Perpetuate the myths, he'd said, and the humans will never take you seriously. They will always underestimate your strength.

She had been half awed and half horrified by her father. But she'd always assumed Sorin adored him utterly. Why hadn't—didn't—he?

Sorin. He was a puzzle to her, the pieces so scattered
she wasn't sure she would ever be able to find them and put them together. And Aden, well, he had won a fight against a seasoned warrior.

Even more shocking, no one here had hindered him or helped Sorin—if she didn't count Lauren and Stephanie, who were watching the doors for Sorin, and after yesterday, she
didn't
count them. More than that, Aden had a beast and the skin of a vampire.
Her
skin.

How much more had they traded?

She'd lost her ability to compel humans with her voice. She'd lost her ability to teleport. Aden could do one, which meant he could probably do the other. And what about her lightning quick speed? He'd moved so swiftly in that ring. Swifter than ever before. What about her strength? Only weeks ago, she had jerked a tree out of the ground with her bare hands, roots and all.

Just then, she wasn't sure she was capable of lifting her hair out of her face.

Would she still have saved Aden if she'd known this would happen?

The answer came in an instant. Yes. Yes, she would have. She would have given up
more
.

You just might have to,
she thought.

Her hand shook as she brought her goblet to her lips and sipped. The blood was thick, cooling and had
a metallic taste that left her grimacing. Ick. What she wouldn't give for a…sandwich. Yes, that's what those things were called. Thin slices of meat stuffed between bread and slathered with something thick and white. Her mouth watered at the same time her stomach growled.

Soon she would have to sneak back to the slave quarters. Very, very soon.

“V-V-Victoria!” a male called over the noise.

She spun, and there, in the far corner, was Shannon, the speaker, with Seth and Ryder beside him. Two of her brother's soldiers were perched at their sides, expressions foreboding.

How could she have forgotten that the boys had been taken, bound?

She placed her goblet on a passing tray and stalked forward.

“V-Victoria,” Shannon said again, his stutter more pronounced than usual. “Do s-something. P-please.”

Their gazes met for the briefest of moments, the green of his eyes almost fever bright. His mocha skin had dulled, yet he was no less beautiful. More so than even a lot of the vampires here. He was tall and naturally strong, and when he smiled, his straight white teeth on display, he was a diamond among zirconium. She'd always liked him.

He was in the center of the group, and though he stood straight and proud, his pinky was curled into Ryder's, as if the other boy was his rock, his comfort. Or perhaps he was Ryder's rock, as the usually tanned boy was currently colored a faint shade of green.

Seth was waving and grinning at someone over Victoria's shoulder. He even did the universal sign for
call me.

Victoria looked the guards over, taking their measure. They lost their air of menace and smiled at her. Well, their version of a smile, anyway. They bared their fangs, their lips peeling back so much that she saw gums.

Both had razored haircuts and thin scars on their cheeks. Scars. How novel. How had they gotten them? The same way Riley had gotten the bump in his nose? Through repeated injury? And would
she
soon be covered in scars? If so, would Aden still think her beautiful?

Don't worry about that right now.
She might fall into a spiral of depression. But then again, depression might help her feel normal again.

Concentrate.
Right. Despite the “smiles,” the one on the right looked like he enjoyed shards of glass and kittens for breakfast. The one on the left looked like he enjoyed just the glass shards, so she'd take her chances with him.

“You're in good spirits, considering your leader just lost his chance to rule,” she announced.

One of his brows arched, nearly knitting into his hairline. “Who said he lost?”

An unexpected response. “Me. Aden, I'm sure. Everyone here, definitely. You did notice the party, didn't you?”

He shook his head, a little shell-shocked, as if her literal interpretation of his question threw him for a loop. He shared a glance with his friend before saying, “No, I mean, perhaps he only wished to test your Aden's mettle.”

Oh, please. “What a wonderful way to cover the sting of a loss.”

A shrug of wide shoulders, reminding her very much of her brother. How long had the warriors been together? “Think whatever you wish. It will not change the facts.”

What facts? “So he threw the fight and allowed him self to become the indentured servant of the new king?”

“He would never throw a fight. Your brother is a good man, Princess Victoria. His goal has always been, and will always be, freedom for us all.”

People were staring at them, listening unabashedly.
So, all right, then. Pleasantries were over, and a debate was not happening. “Release the boys. Now. Or I'll be forced to—”

“Of course. You'll be happy to note they are in the same condition as when we took them, and no worse for wear.”

She folded her arms over her middle. “And the bruises on their wrists? The ones from the rope you used on them?”

“I'm positive they had those already,” the other kitten-eating guard said.

Both men actually stepped aside, practically gift wrapping the boys for her. Too easy, she thought, mouth opening and closing as she floundered for a response.

Shannon and Ryder did not falter. They grabbed her hands and tugged her away. Shannon also latched onto Seth to propel him into motion. Midway, when her neurons began firing again, she took the lead. Where to take them, where to take them?

An older female vampire stepped in front of her. Older, but no less beautiful for it. Smooth skin, elegant features. “I wish to speak with you, princess.” Gray eyes slid over the boys as a pink tongue ran over sharp white fangs. “How much for the tattooed one?”

“He's not for sale,” she said at the same time Seth, the tattooed one, said, “What did you have in mind?”

With an I-mean-business frown, Victoria slapped the back of his head. “Not another word from you.”

“Ow!” He glared at her. “What was that for?”

“He's not for sale,” she repeated to the vampire. “For any price.”

The female pouted. “You're sure?”

“Yes.”

That gray gaze switched focus, landing on Shannon. “What about the—”

“
None
of them are for sale.” Blood-slaves were traded all the time. For money, for clothes. For fun. Once that hadn't bothered her, but the thought of these boys, so like Aden, being passed around like bags of potato chips did not settle well with her. “
Such
a pity.” The female tossed her rope of blond hair over her shoulder before gliding away.

Victoria was stopped three more times with different offers to buy the humans before she at last ushered her charges through one of the many secret passages at the far end of the room. Secret, even though
everyone
knew about them.

This one opened into a small room that looked into the ballroom with two-way glass. Of course a young
vampire couple writhed on the couch, and Victoria had to clear her throat to gain their attention. They sprang apart, both of them blushing as they righted their clothes.

“Uh, hello, princess, what are you—” the male began.

“Out,” she said, and the pair scrambled to obey. She shut the door behind them. Squaring her shoulders, she turned to face the humans with the eagerness of a firing squad. “You have questions, I'm sure.”

All three spoke at once.

“I was s-sleeping, all right, and a-all of a sudden this g-giant vamp—”

“—minding my own business and then I notice fangs. Fangs! After I pissed my pants, they forced me to—”

“—spare room or something I could stay in? Because I'm sick of going back and forth, and did you happen to notice the hot redhead with the giant—”

“—w-was that thing that came o-out of Aden? A d-dragon? It just r-rose out of h-him—”

“—rope burns. If I scar, I'm suing. I might sue anyway. Dan is going to kill me. If your blood-hungry friends don't snack on my organs first. I'm on my last strike, you know. And this time it's not even my fault. Why the hell—”

“—or even the brunette. You kind of owe me. I don't know if anyone's ever told you this before, but there
is
such a thing as cock-blocking, and you're proof.”

Silence.

Okay. Where to begin? Guess she'd start with the basics. “I'm a vampire.” And it was odd, talking to humans about her race. It was an offense once punishable by death. Or, at the very least, eternal imprisonment, cutting you off from the rest of the world.

That would have been her mother's fate if Victoria hadn't arranged for her freedom.
And what does she do? Refuse to visit me.
That stung more and more every day. Maybe because Victoria kept thinking of new reasons for her mother's refusal. She wasn't good enough. Wasn't liked anymore. Was a complete disappointment.

Was this how Aden felt when he thought about
his
parents? Abandoned, forgotten, unloved? Probably, and that was yet another thing they had in common.

“This house is full of vampires, as you saw for yourself,” she continued. “What you don't know is that Aden is now our king. He fought my brother to defend his crown. He won.”

“Yeah, he did,” Seth said, raising his hand to high-five someone.

The other two just looked at him.

“What?”

“The monster you saw is…” Very hard to explain. “Something all vampires carry inside themselves.”

“Oh, hell, no.
Aden
is a vampire?” Ryder's eyes were as round as saucers.

“Yes.”

A smirking Shannon held out his hand to Ryder. “T-told you. Y-you owe me a f-five spot.”

“You wagered on his race?” she gasped out.

“Not that. I s-suspected you were s-something different. The way you w-walk, talk, dead giveaways.” He flashed her a grin. “The way you sneak into o-our room at the ranch, more so.”

Once again she was in danger of falling into that spiral of depression. She'd worked hard to blend in, and yet, she'd failed royally. “How do I walk? Talk?”

“You glide,” Seth said, wiggling his brows in approval. “And your accent is…different.”

Different. A polite way of saying “creepy”? “How is Dan?” she asked. Still blaming himself?

“He's sad,” Seth said.

“Worried,” Ryder added.

Shannon shrugged. “G-guilty.”

Yes, he still blamed himself. “Maybe, when Aden returns you to the ranch, he'll talk to Dan.” She knew
Aden respected Dan, knew just how badly he had wanted to finish high school. And he'd planned to do so. Until she'd saved his life, changing the very fabric of who he was.

Would he look back later and regret the choices he'd made these past few days? She didn't want that. More than anything else, she wanted him happy. Now, always. And if things progressed as she thought they would, he had a long “always” to look forward to—or a long always to dread.

“Hey, what's happening out there?” Seth asked, pressing his face against the glass.

“What do you mean?” Beyond the two-way mirror, Victoria watched as everyone in the ballroom dropped to their knees, heads bowed. Voices tapered to quiet. She knew what that meant. “Aden has arrived,” she said, every cell in her body going on alert. And sure enough, a sweep of her gaze, and she could see Aden and Sorin towering in the arched double doors.

Aden's hair no longer fell over his face, so she had a clear view of his swollen eyelids and discolored cheeks and jaw. The damage could have been worse,
much
worse, and should have been, considering the number of times her brother had introduced cartilage and bone to
knuckles. At least he was steady on his feet. Not many would be, after receiving a beating like that.