Twisted (17 page)

He searched the room, his gaze sliding over vampires, wolves and humans, never pausing, completely determined. Was he…looking for her?

He was so hot and cold with her lately, she dared not hope. Best to think of something else. Something less upsetting. Like her brother. The moron.

Sorin had healed considerably but sported the same cuts and bruises Aden did. Especially in his neck, where the
je la nune
had burned away skin and muscle. Part of her wanted to shove her fingers into that wound and tug. He had used her. He hadn't known her ability to teleport had vanished, and so he had drugged her. Reduced her to a bargaining chip. Yes, he had done so to prevent a fight to the death—Aden's death—but he could have found another way. Aden had.

And there was reason number one Aden was the better choice for king.

“I can't believe I used to give him a hard time about stuff,” Ryder muttered. “He could have kicked my ass and then some.”

“It's 'cause you're dumb,” Seth said.

“I'm not dumb.”

“Dude, the only class you've got an A in is lunch. And we both know that A only stands for Appetite.”

“He's g-got an A in recess, t-too,” Shannon said with a grin.

Ryder shoved him good-naturedly.

Seth gagged. “My eyes! My poor eyes. Dude-on-dude foreplay is just gross.”

Ryder lost his tolerant humor, balled his fist, about to take a swing, but Victoria stepped between them. “Enough.” But really? What could she do if they decided to go for a knock-down, drag-out? Nothing, that's what. Not anymore.

More than that, if they hit her, they could inflict injuries she might not be able to recover from.

She'd never had to worry about such a thing before.

Suddenly Aden's gaze latched onto the mirror as if glued there—as if he could see through the smoky glass. She hadn't meant to look at him again, but it was habit now and she'd acted automatically.

When she realized they were peering at each other, she froze, helplessly trapped by his scrutiny. Could he see her? Impossible. But…

“You may rise,” he said to the crowd.

Clothing rustled as everyone stood, cutting Aden from
her view. Murmurs arose. Giggles and jeers were thrown at Sorin. Right now, he was a laughingstock.

Perhaps that would change in a hundred years or so. Perhaps not.

When the crowd parted like the Red Sea, Victoria was offered another straight shot at Aden. He was striding forward and headed directly toward her.

Had
he seen her?

Sorin stalked behind him, ignoring the barbs tossed his way.

A pair of soft, delicate hands reached out, caressing Aden, stopping him. Draven the
So
Going To Die, Victoria realized with a rising tide of anger. Again the crowd quieted, every ear in the room twitching and listening.

“Congratulations on your victory,” Draven said silkily. “
My
king.”

“Thank you. If you'll excuse me—” He tried to move around her.

She jumped back in front of him. “A moment of your time, if you please.”

Indecision played over his features before he nodded. “A moment. Nothing more.”

Her eyes glittered with menace, revealing the bitch underneath the beauty. “Very well, I'll jump right in.
I don't know if the wolf-shifter, Riley, or even Victoria herself, told you or not, but two weeks ago I challenged Victoria for rights to you.”

Every muscle in his body stiffened, and his narrowed gaze rose to the mirror for one second, two, before returning to Draven. “Go on.”

Perhaps the girl was stupid and didn't hear the warning in his tone. Perhaps? Ha! She was, because she actually continued. “You are human, after all, and—”

“
Was
human,” he corrected with sharp reproof.

“I realize that,” Draven replied.
“Now.”
Stupid was too kind. Obviously she had the IQ of a gutter rat. “But the challenge was issued and accepted weeks ago, as I said, when you were, in fact, human. So the law still applies. Victoria must fight me, as you fought Sorin. That is our way. That has always been our way.”

The whispered theories reignited. How had Aden turned? Could someone else be turned?

A grayish tint washed over Aden's skin. “There will be no attempting to turn the humans,” he called to one and all.

Even Victoria didn't know how or why Aden—and she herself—had survived when the only successful turnings had happened in the late 1400s. Bloody Mary—the original and not the former queen of England—was now
the leader of the Scottish faction, and she had turned in that time frame as well.

Throughout the years, Victoria had heard rumors of a long-ago passionate affair between Vlad and Mary. That Vlad had chosen to turn her rather than his wife. And when Vlad later discarded Mary in favor of another, Mary had gathered her supporters and left, vowing revenge.

There had been battles, lives lost, but neither side had ever backed down. Amid both clans, people had tired of the constant bickering. Willing to abandon the only homes they'd ever known in the name of peace, they had broken all ties with
both
leaders, and more factions were created. So many, all over the world, each with a king or a queen, or both, if the more powerful of the pair was inclined to share.

Victoria thought of Sorin and his claim to have slaughtered Vlad's allies. A claim she was inclined to believe, considering none had arrived after Aden's summons.

A worrisome thought occurred to her. If word of that spread—
hey, everyone, the new vampire king has no backup
—well, he would become an even bigger target.

“As the king's number one adviser,” Sorin said to Draven, “I have much to say about this.”

Aden tossed him a what-the-hell frown. Victoria hid a smile behind her hand. Number one adviser?

“I am advising him to schedule the fight later today. After the beating I just received, I look forward to seeing someone else receive one. Namely you, little girl. I have watched my sister fight—”

He had?

“—and she is very, very good.”

Draven buffed her fingernails. “I am agreeable to the time frame, and need only your approval, majesty.”

Victoria's hand fell to her throat. Her oh-so-vulnerable throat. The chill inside her deepened, migrating into bone.

“What are you quaking about? You can take her.” Seth tapped her on the butt. “She's straight-up bitch, but you've got a dark side. I can tell.”

“Thank you. I think.” She
used
to have a dark side. Now she just had a human side. Draven would tear her to pieces. And though she wanted to rush out there and stop the madness, she knew it was already too late. The fight
had
been accepted. To withdraw now was to admit defeat.

As Aden would soon learn, the loser of a challenge gave up everything to the winner. Their possessions…their lives. That's why challenges were so rarely issued.
Sorin was Aden's property now. For the rest of his very long life.

Victoria did not want to be Draven's.

“No, today is unacceptable,” Aden said. “I'll set a time after I review my schedule, and an announcement will be made. Until then, stay away from her.” He brushed Draven aside and kicked back into motion, Sorin remaining at his side.

The girl watched his back the entire time, her eyes slitted.

When he reached the mirrored wall, he stopped, his gaze roving, searching for the handle. “Victoria,” he said. “Let me in.”

He did. He knew she was inside. And peering through objects had not been an ability she had ever possessed. Shocked, she opened the door for him.

Their gazes clashed as the boys poured out from behind her and rushed to him, surrounding him, whooping, grinning like loons and shouting. Aden endured everything with flushed cheeks and a frozen expression of disbelief.

She smiled at him, and he smiled back. A moment all their own, despite the chaos. Pleasure bloomed. She cherished every second, knowing the memory was one she'd coddle for a very long time.

“That's the way it's done, bitches,” Seth said, extending his arm through the doorway and flipping Sorin off.

Her brother blew him a kiss.

Ryder drilled his knuckles into Seth's arm and chortled. “Now who's the one enjoying guy-on-guy foreplay?”

“Stephanie,” Aden called without turning away. “I need you.”

Wait. What?

Her sister came rushing from the center of the crowd, chewing gum and twirling the end of her ponytail around her finger. “Present.”

“Do me a favor and take the boys back to the ranch.”

Frowning, she pointed to her chest. “Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“Sweet! Really?” Jumping up and down, clapping her hands, she said, “I can drink them, right? Please, please,
please
tell me I get to drink them.”

Aden's horror was instant. “No. Do not drink from them. I want them to arrive home in the same condition they're in now.”

The bouncing stopped. She popped a bubble. “That's all you want me to do, then? Escort them? That kind of sucks—without actually sucking.”

He glanced at Victoria for guidance. She shrugged.

“Yes, escort them only,” he said, massaging the back of his neck.

Next came the patented Princess Stephanie pout. A glower, a stomp of her foot, a puff of breath. “Fine. Next time, though, I want an important assignment. You should see my skills with nunchucks.”

“True story. I trained her,” Sorin said. “She's very good.”

“Comforting,” was Aden's only reply.

Stephanie flattened her hands on Aden's shoulders, rose on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “By the way, thanks for not killing my big bro.”

Aden cast Sorin a sideways glance, the same
what's happening around me
glance he'd thrown Victoria a moment before. She liked that. Liked seeing them work as a unit. “I can't say it was the wisest decision I've ever made, but he
is
growing on me. Like a fungus.”

Stephanie laughed, a tinkling sound. “Whatever. You like him. I can tell.” With that, she turned to the boys and waved them over. “Come on, pesky humans. Let's get you home.”

“Alive,” Aden reminded her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied, not turning back but throwing her hands in the air.

Shannon patted Aden on the shoulder before walking off, and Aden nodded at him. A silent communication. They would be talking soon.

“Pizza first,” Victoria heard Seth say as the foursome pushed through the enthralled throng, “
then
home.”

“And you'll have to convince Dan we were there all along,” Ryder said. “Seth mentioned you guys have some kind of freaky voice.”

“We do, so it's not a prob,” Stephanie replied. “But I could also nunchuck his head and he'll—”

“Use your voice,” Aden called.

A growl of frustration pierced the air. “You take the fun out of everything!”

Chuckling, Aden focused on Victoria. “Now that
that's
taken care of…” He reached out his hand, twined her fingers with his, and they left the party. Together.

R
ILEY HAD BEEN ON
plenty of stakeouts in his life, but this was by far his fave. Even though it was a last minute change of plans and rushed.

First, he and Mary Ann had caught a glimpse of Aden's parents as they drove a truck away from their house a few hours before. Or who they thought were Aden's parents. Driver had been male, early to mid-forties, with brown hair, and from what Riley could tell with his superior wolf-vision, gunmetal gray eyes.

The passenger had been female, possibly in her late thirties, with blond hair, and from what he could tell, brown eyes. Both possessed muddy green auras. From guilt, maybe. Or fear. Hard to tell when the color was so murky, even with his superior wolf-vision.

Perhaps Joe and Paula Stone were living with regret for what they'd done to their son. Perhaps they'd simply
been panicked 'cause they couldn't pay their electric bill. Either was possible.

Riley and Mary Ann were waiting in another house, across the street from the small, slightly rundown one the Stones had left, hoping to catch another glimpse of the couple when they returned. Perhaps even listen in on a conversation or two when they did.

Riley would have searched the house while the couple was gone, but he'd spied cameras. The expensive kind with face-recognition software. Too expensive for a home as cheap as that one. And with that kind of cheese being spent on cameras, he'd bet good money there were motion detectors on every door and window. Not to mention special hinges and even silent alarms. So, if he didn't have to do a smash and grab, he wasn't going to do a smash and grab.

That would come later, if the couple failed to return.

Part of him hoped they didn't return for a while. Currently he had Mary Ann all to himself. Tucker the Flaming Engorged Rectum was missing and had been since the café. Where the demon spawn had gone, Riley didn't know and didn't care.

Right now, Riley was sitting at the living room window, peering through the crinkled blinds. Yes, he'd broken into the place. The locks had been crap, and so had
the doors they'd been nailed to, so it had just been a matter of busting the already chipped glass pane, reaching inside and turning the knob.

When would people learn? Glass next to a door was like
begging
every thief in the neighborhood to come inside.

Mary Ann was sitting beside him. They weren't touching. Yet. But they would be. Soon. By warding her back at the motel, he'd taken care of the witch and fairy problem. The two races couldn't watch her with their magic and intrinsic abilities anymore, couldn't track her except through human means. A skill they most likely lacked, considering they'd never had reason to use it. Meaning, the danger level was now close to nil.

That meant one soul-rocking thing. There'd be no interruptions. And
that
meant one more soul-rocking thing. Riley was through being Mr. Nice Wolf. He had experience. He knew how to charm a girl. And had. Often. He knew how to tease and taunt to heighten curiosity and awareness. Now, he would charm Mary Ann.

Since nearly feeding on him, she'd been distant, quiet. He had to do something to convince her she wouldn't hurt him. She wouldn't. He wouldn't let her.

Because Riley and Victoria shared such a deep mind
connection, allowing him to do more than simply read her aura, and because he was so in tune to everything concerning Mary Ann, he'd inadvertently culled Vic's thoughts about the girl possibly being related to the fae. Something he was ashamed to admit he hadn't considered. Fairies were drainers, too, and yet they could control their feedings. So, if there
was
a connection, there was hope for Mary Ann.

Not that she would search. Not yet. She was determined to save Aden. Riley was, too, but he wouldn't put Mary Ann's life on the back burner, even for his king. Therefore, tomorrow his digging into her history would begin.

Right now he had to ease her worries about hurting him. Otherwise, she'd continue to resist everything he suggested. For the mission and for their relationship.

He scanned their surroundings. The way the neighborhood was laid out, they had a clear view of both the street and Aden's (possible) parents' place. There were no cars, no one out and about.

“Victoria texted me,” he said, starting casually. Cold wind blew through the crack in the bottom of the window, causing strands of her dark hair to dance in every direction, even in his face. “Her brother came home,
challenged Aden, and Aden kicked his ass in front of everyone.”

“Good for Aden.”

“We need to tell him what you've found.”

“What have I found?” The frown she tossed him said the rest for her: you gotta think before you speak. “I've got nothing concrete, so there's no reason to get his hopes up.”

“Not true. He should know you think you found Julian.” For all Riley knew, Victoria had already told him. “He should know you think you found his parents.”

“And crush him when we learn I'm wrong?”

“So you're wrong now?”

“No. But I could be.”

“And you could be right.”

“Or not,” she insisted.

“When did you become such a Debbie Downer?” Her aura was a dark blue, sadness practically radiating off her. Mixed with the blue, however, were specks of brown that were soon to darken to black. Not a color that represented death—not all the time. But with her, that brown represented hunger, her need to feed, to draw energy into herself.

Those specks had grown in the last few hours. Not
enough to concern him. Maybe because he also saw specks of red and pink. Red for anger—or passion—and pink for hope. He wanted to nurture both.

Her mouth fell open. “I'm not Debbie Downer.” The red bloomed a little brighter.

“Honey, you're the textbook version of Doomsday. You expect the worst, always.”

“I do no—” There at the end, she caught herself. “Fine. I do.” She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the edge of the pane. “Better safe than sorry, though.”

“Actually, no, it's not. But if we're going to cliché this conversation to death, here's one you need to memorize—better to have tried and failed than to never have tried at all.”

“I
am
trying.”

“You're coasting, and you need to lighten up.”
Way to charm her, you idiot.
All he was doing was pissing her off. He could have apologized for taking the harsh road, but he didn't. What he'd said was true. However, he did flash her a quick smile when he nudged her shoulder with his. “Let me help you.”

Instantly suspicious, she eyed him warily. “How?”

They'd switched roles, he realized. Once upon a time, she had charged full-speed ahead, and he had been the
one to press on the brakes. Now he wondered what would she have done if the situation were reversed. “Tell me a secret. Something you've never told anyone else.” Excellent. Something the old Mary Ann would have suggested—and enjoyed.

Her tongue glided over her lips. “We're kinda in the middle of breaking and entering and spying. Now isn't the time to share.”

Oh, yeah. Their roles had totally switched. “Now's the perfect time. Hasn't anyone told you it's prudent to multitask?”

“I don't know…” A hint of the old Mary Ann.

“Come on. Live a little. Add one more chore to our ever-growing list.” Not that talking to him was a chore. He hoped.

A pause, then, “Fine. You go first.”

He had her and tried not to smile. “All right. Here goes. I've regretted not sleeping with you.” Straight to the heart of the matter.

The red halo around her brightened so much, it was almost blinding. Passion, definitely. His body reacted, heating from head to toe.

“I don't think that's a secret,” she said softly. “But… I've regretted that you didn't sleep with me, too.”

He froze. Forget charming and convincing her. He
liked
this.
The raw honesty of her tone, the longing she cast his way. “Mary Ann,” he said.

“I—I—” She had to know what he wanted. To kiss her, to hold her. To finally be with her.

She turned away from the window, watching him through wide eyes. In the haze of light, he could see flecks of green mixed with the brown. “We shouldn't,” she said, but she was wavering, he could tell. “Not here.”

“We should.” He didn't want to regret anymore, didn't want to wait. As Aden could attest, no one was guaranteed a tomorrow.

Her fingers moved to the hem of her shirt, twisting the buttons. Did she realize what that action did to him? How it tantalized him? “What if the owner of this house comes home? What if Aden's parents come home?”

Still wavering, so close to the edge.
Fall, sweetheart. I'll catch you.
“Then we get dressed. Quickly.”

“You have an answer for everything,” she said dryly. “I might have become a Debbie Downer, but you've become a pain the butt. You know that, right?”

“I just realized we need to work on your perception, too, because it's kinda skewed.”

A laugh escaped her. “Or it's finally on target.”

“Hardly.” He loved the sound of her laugh. Husky,
wine-rich. And that
he
had caused it, well, he felt like he was king of the world. “I'm a little slice of heaven and you know it.”

“All right. I know it.”

Smiling, Riley moved closer to her, making sure some part of them touched. Forearms, hips. Breath hitched in her throat, even as his own hissed through his teeth.

Before he could swoop in to claim a kiss, a car snaked the far corner of the road before speeding along, closing in on the house they were watching. Mary Ann noticed and stiffened. Riley did, too, zeroing in on the driver. Male, early-twenties. Not Joe Stone. The car bypassed the houses, and they both relaxed.

“I wonder where Tucker is,” she said with a tremble.

“You want to talk about him
now?
Seriously?”

“Safer for us, don't you think?”

Not really. “Tucker's probably in the process of a human sacrifice.”

“He's not that bad.”

“You're right. He's worse.”

She pushed at his shoulder. At this second contact, he sizzled. She must have, too, because she didn't withdraw her hand right away. In fact, she flattened her palms on him and spread her fingers, touching as much of his biceps as she could.

As her aura flared with all that luscious red, she licked her lips. “All right. We don't have to talk about Tucker.” There at the end, her voice dipped, going low with need.

The heat returned, wrapping around him. “What do you want to talk about?” His own voice had lowered.

“Our secrets.”

All the encouragement he needed. He gripped her by the waist, lifted and turned her, until she was poised over him, then he set her on his lap. “Straddle me.”

She did, and he drew her closer. Not all the way but just enough. Her arms wound around his neck and back. “What about the cars—”

“I can still see out the window.” Truth. He could. When he looked. At the moment, all he could see, all he cared about, was Mary Ann. “Now kiss me. I need you so much.”

“I need you, too,” she said, leaning down and meshing their lips together.

He kissed her deep and sure, his hands sliding to her back, under her shirt, gliding up the ridges of her spine, then down, then tracing the waistband of her pants.

“You'll tell me if…” she rasped.

If she fed. “I'll tell you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” This time he would. He didn't want her to doubt him, ever. “But let's try something, okay?”

“What?” she asked, hesitant again.

“If the urge to feed pops up, or if you feel yourself drawing from me, don't pull away from me.”

“No, I—”

“Just listen.” He cupped her jaw, gentle, so gentle. “If that happens, keep doing what you're doing, stay calm, and just try to stop yourself from feeding.”

“Stay calm. As if that'll be possible with your life in jeopardy.”

“I honestly think you can stop yourself, that it's just a matter of control, but we can't know for sure unless you try.”

She shook her head. “That's the kind of thing I should practice on others. Not you.”

“Just do what Riley tells you, and you might like the results.”

A snort. “We're speaking in third person now? Because Mary Ann doesn't like it.”

“Actually, we're getting back to our secrets.” He returned his attention to their kiss, and soon she did, too. He didn't try anything else, even though they'd gone farther than this before, until she was breathing more
heavily and moving against him as if she just couldn't sit still.

He removed his T-shirt, then removed hers and pulled her closer, until their chests were brushing together with every inhalation. He allowed his hands to roam, exploring her. She did the same, sensitizing his skin in the most primal way. Soon he was moaning with every brush of her fingertips.

The few times he heard the hum of a car engine, he would break the kiss long enough to peer out the window, discover the driver was no one important, then dive back in.

Twice, Mary Ann froze on him, every muscle she possessed tensing. Both times occurred sometime after the cars drove past, so he knew they had nothing to do with her reaction, and he wondered if she'd felt herself trying to feed but had stopped herself in time. She must have. Not once did he experience a single flicker of cold. And that's what happened when a drainer fed. The victim felt cold. A bone-deep cold not even a thick winter coat could warm.

“Riley,” she said, and he knew what that meant. She wanted more.

He gazed around the living room. A couch. Old, torn in several spots. Stained. No way. He wasn't having sex
with her on that couch. Not for the first time. But he wanted her so badly right now, he—