Gena Showalter - Intertwined 02 (16 page)

He kept his expression blank, but couldn't stop cold fingers of dread from creeping down his spine. He'd
asked for this, had commanded it. He had to take the bad with the good. “Yes?” If she wanted to break him in half, just like the trees, he'd let her. He wouldn't fight back because he wouldn't risk hurting her.

“You should not have demanded this.” One menacing step, two, she continued to approach him. Closer…closer still…

His eyes widened. Was that…could it be…? It was; it had to be. She was halfway to him, and there was something rising above her shoulders. Something monstrous. He gulped. There was a glittery outline of wings stretching from Victoria's back, and over her head, he spied a long snout with big nostrils, black scales and eyes he'd see in his nightmares for years to come. Fire swirled in those eyes. Orange-gold flames that crackled with the promise of a painful death.

The demon reached for Aden, claws outstretched. Not in a threatening manner, he realized with shock, but in…supplication? Surely not.

Still. Aden expected to be cut down the moment Victoria reached him. What he didn't expect was for his girlfriend to grab his wrist and jerk him into the heat of her body. Breath pushed from his nose as the world around him faded, as his feet lost their solid anchor, as his mind scrambled for an explanation. What was happening?

A car suddenly materialized around him. He was at
the wheel, Victoria beside him in the passenger seat. She was still panting, and over and over the beast, which was still perched over her shoulders, reached for him, those claws whooshing through air.

What would happen if the creature solidified, as she'd warned?

“Uh, I think your wards have worn off,” Aden said, the souls inside him shouting with concern.

Without a word, Victoria removed her shirt, her bra, leaving her bare from the waist up. Aden's jaw dropped. Dear God. Over her heart were two tiny swirling black and red tattoos his eyes could have traced forever. Caleb fainted.

Elijah and Julian merely gasped.

“No. They're still there.” Her voice was still layered. “Now, kiss me,” she commanded, climbing over the console and fitting herself in his lap. Tight squeeze, with the wheel at her back, but he loved it. Her knees pressed against his waist, and her hands tangled in his hair, her nails cutting into his scalp.

Her lips smashed into his, and her tongue, which he welcomed wholeheartedly, thrust inside his mouth. Hot, branding. He wound his arms around her, flattening his palms against her shoulders, trailing them down her spine. So much heat… Her skin was as hot as her tongue, and he wanted to be burned.

On and on the kiss continued, until his every breath
was filled with her. Until her taste—cherries, of all things—was all that he knew. Until she was purring, her sweet little moans blending with his groans. The windows on the car had long since fogged.

Elijah and Julian were blessedly quiet, offering no “helpful” advice about how to make this more enjoyable for her, not telling him everything he was doing wrong. They were probably as awed as he was. Just as lost.

“Are you thirsty?” he managed to say when she kissed her way along his jaw, his neck, stopping to lick his hammering pulse. He opened his eyes, and realized the beast was no longer visible.

“No.” Another lick of his pulse.

Tendrils of his jealousy returned. “Who'd you drink from?”

“No one. I've been drinking from bags.”

The tension drained from him. Sweet, sweet girl. She knew how much he hated her lips—her wonderful, soft, pleasure-giving lips—on anyone else. “Can't taste as good as fresh blood.”

“Doesn't.” The word was slurred.

“So start drinking from me.”
Please
.

“Want to know you're with me because you love me, not because you're addicted to my bite.”

Well, he couldn't fault her for that. Being desired for who you were, not what you could do, was a rare and wonderful thing. He knew because he'd experienced the
other side of that coin. Throughout his life, he'd been discarded for what he could do, the person he was never taken into account.

“More kissing,” she said.

Like he'd argue with that. Their lips met again, and he lost himself again, hands roaming, exploring. Hers did the same, and he thought this was, perhaps, his first true taste of heaven.

All too soon she pulled back, still panting, lips glistening, ending the kiss. “I-I'm calm now. I can feel my beast inside me. We should stop.”

Aden's head fell against the seat rest as he stared up at her. Each of his pulse points was hammering wildly. His blood was molten in his veins, blistering everything it touched, and his lungs had long since smoldered to ash.

“You kissed me to calm down?” he asked.

She gave a hesitant nod.

Part of him wanted to be angry. The other part of him was just happy this had happened. “Well, we need to unbottle you more often,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

A laugh escaped her, and she covered her mouth with her hand, as if she couldn't believe she'd found humor in such a horrifying topic.

He didn't care. His chest puffed with pride. He'd done that. He'd made her laugh again, just as he'd
hoped.
That's
what he wanted more of, just as much as the kiss.

“So why did you teleport us to this car?” he asked with a wave of his hand. “We don't need it, do we?”

“Riley and I always keep one nearby, just in case, but no, we won't need it. I wanted a little privacy.”

“Smart.” He reached up and cupped her face. “Don't shut me out again. Okay? I think I proved I can handle your beast.”

“I won't.” She fisted his T-shirt, expression darkening, and his heart jumped up to meet her touch. “But, Aden, you will have to date those girls to keep the peace, and that will make me angry.”

“Maybe you shouldn't tell me that. I
like
your anger.”

Another tinkling laugh filled the car. “Be serious.”

“I am. I'm not your father. I don't want you to be afraid to express your thoughts and feelings. Besides, I'm not afraid of your beast.” In fact, a part of him still thought the beast had actually
liked
him, wanting to stroke him—or be stroked by him. Which was crazy. “And listen. You have my vow. I won't do anything with those vampires. You're the only one I want.”

She traced a hot fingertip down the slope of his nose. “How are you so wonderful, Haden Stone?”

He liked the sound of his full name on Victoria's lips.
“You're the wonderful one. Now get dressed and we'll join Riley. He's probably worried about you.”

She rolled her eyes as she climbed back into the passenger seat and tugged on her shirt. “His concern is for you nowadays.”

The loss of her weight, her heat and the sight of her bare skin left him moaning. Intense concentration was the only thing that kept him talking. “Riley needs a good ass-kicking and if he isn't careful, I'll give it to him.”

“Please. You like him. You know you do.”

At last Caleb woke up.
What happened? What'd I miss?

Dude. You missed the Holy Grail of Babe Land.
Awe layered Julian's voice.
I never wanted to leave.

Caleb whimpered.

Aden experienced another tendril of jealousy. “Guys, please. She's mine.”

“The souls?” Victoria asked with a smile.

He nodded.

“I've been thinking,” she said, tapping her chin with a blunt-tipped fingernail painted silver. Well, not silver, but with the same metal as her opal ring. That way, she could dip a finger into the
je la nune
without injuring herself. “The wards I have keep my monster at bay. What
if we tattooed
you
with wards? That might keep the souls quiet.”

For a moment, just a moment, he was tempted. Having Victoria all to himself, kissing her like that, without any interference, every time…

The souls immediately began to protest.

“No,” he said. “Thanks for the offer, but I like them and don't want to hurt them.”

They calmed, but only slightly.

Maybe it's time for a new girlfriend,
Elijah huffed.

Victoria began tapping her chin again. “Perhaps, then, we will ward you against the witches. We can't protect you from all their spells—you don't have enough skin for that many tattoos—but we could cover the basics, the most dangerous. Mary Ann, too. No one can be warded against a spell that's already been cast, of course, but after the meeting, when the death magic has worn off, we can ward her against another death spell. Until then, it will be wise to protect her from other curses.”

Dan would throw a fit if Aden came home covered in tattoos. And Mary Ann's dad would probably have a heart attack if she inked
anything,
even something as innocent as a rose, into her flesh. “We'll think about it. So why aren't you warded against spells? Why isn't Riley?” He reached out and linked their fingers.

“Some vampires are, but we aren't around the witches enough to concern ourselves, really. For the most part,
they avoid us and we avoid them. Wolves, though, can't be warded. Their animal form doesn't hold the ink, so it's a waste. The moment they shift, their wards fade. I suppose we could ward Riley against certain spells for the meeting since he'll be in human form. Knowing him, he'll insist on going with you.”

He lifted her hand, kissed her wrist. “I don't understand why
Riley
doesn't just take over the vampire clan. He'd make an excellent king.”

And…there it was. The spark of anger that always accompanied talk about crowning a new king. Seriously. What the hell?

“The wolves have more loyalty than any other race. The need to guard is ingrained in them.”

“Well, leading is just another form of guarding. We'll talk about that later, though. Let's guard him for once. What do you think?” He was fighting the urge to jerk her back into his lap. If they stayed here, he would kiss her again. Guaranteed. “That witch is probably giving him fits.”

Victoria nodded and a moment later, the world around him disappeared.

 

A
DESERTED CABIN
, miles from town. From anything. Filled only with wolves, a vampire and weapons. Well, and also a blindfolded witch who was tied to a chair in the center of an otherwise empty bedroom. Not Marie,
Mary Ann had realized upon first arriving. This witch's hair was too short and too dark a blond. She wasn't sure if that relieved her or disturbed her.

Riley had immediately begun his interrogation, and it had gone something like this:

Riley: Where is the meeting between your kind and Aden Stone supposed to take place?

Witch: Go suck yourself.

Riley: Maybe later. Meeting?

Witch: Enjoy death.

Riley: I have once already. Now, decide to talk or lose a body part.

Witch: May I recommend a finger?

Riley: Sure. After I take one of your very necessary hands.

Witch: Look, you mangy mutt. The elders will be here any day now. They had planned on contacting you. After this, well, I'm sure your invitation will be lost in the mail.

At that, frustration had filled the room. Guilt had filled Mary Ann. This had been her idea, but it had done more harm than good.

The same futile exchange was repeated three more times.

“Let me try,” Lauren finally said, moving behind the witch and placing her hands on the girl's shoulders. Her fangs were longer than they'd been a moment ago, and
there was such hunger in her eyes it actually hurt
Mary Ann
. In that moment, she was willing to hold out her arm and let the vampire go to town. No one should be that hungry.

But then she recalled Victoria's words. Words uttered only yesterday, though an eternity seemed to have passed since then. Witch blood was like a drug to vampires. Once Lauren tasted the witch, there would be no pulling her off. And then Victoria, whenever she arrived—where was she? What was she doing?—would probably join the feasting.

“I'll only nip her,” Lauren said, words now slurred. “Only take a little. She'll start talking then. Swear.”

“No!” Riley shouted, and Mary Ann thought she saw the witch recoil.

That's when Victoria and Aden at last appeared. Both were flushed, their lips swollen and red, glistening.

Ah. They'd been kissing.

Unlike Mary Ann and Riley, she thought sadly. They'd barely spoken since their argument in the cleaning closet. As a matter of fact, they'd hardly even looked at each other.

He'd paid more attention to Lauren in the half hour they'd been here than he had to Mary Ann, so she was almost afraid he
liked
the ever-growing distance between them. And oh, that burned. Lauren was utterly strong and completely self-assured. Helped that she was weighed
down with weapons and clearly knew how to use them. She was fierce and brave, reliable, well able to take care of herself. Unlike Mary Ann.

Had she lost Riley already? Anger and helplessness, sadness and sorrow mixed together and filled her up. With the rise in her emotions, a warm, sweet breeze drifted to her. In and out she breathed, that breeze floating to her lungs, seeping into her veins, soothing every part of her. Just like that night in town, just like this morning with Marie, she welcomed the sensation.
So
good. And the taste…like candy. Sugar-coated, sparkling, fizzing.

Riley told Aden and Victoria what had been happening while forcing Lauren to move away from the witch.

“Use your voice on her,” Aden suggested to Victoria. “You know, the powerful one.” Then, “Shut up, Caleb! I'm not kidding. Her shirt stays on.”

Who was— Ah. One of the souls. Who did Caleb want to strip?

“Voiced commands don't work on witches,” Victoria replied. She moved into Aden's side, snuggling close, as if she couldn't bear to be separated from him. “Their magic prevents it.”