Twisted (22 page)

T
O A VAMPIRE OR A SHIFTER
,
a human guarding two other humans was kind of like having a toddler guard other toddlers. Useless. But Victoria had never been more certain of her status. She was absolutely, utterly human.

Earlier she'd cut her wrist to pour her blood into a cup so that Aden would finally eat without revealing her secret, or having to bite and addict her—or himself. There'd been no
je la nune
on the metal, yet the blade had sliced right through her flesh without any hindrance. The wound had yet to heal. And Chompers, well, he'd stopped roaring, even stopped mewling.

“You and Aden dating?” Ryder asked her, relaxing for the first time since he'd watched Nathan shift.

Leaning her temple against the driver's headrest, she peered back at him. “Yes.”
I think.
Since waking up in her bed, he'd been kind, tender, sweet and affectionate.
More like his old self. She constantly battled the urge to throw herself into his arms and spill everything. Her fears, her frailties…her love. Fear of rejection formed a clamp around her mouth.

“You don't care that he's crazy?”

Maybe it was a good thing her beast was quiet. The question pushed all the wrong buttons, and she—or Chompers—might have dove over the seat and ripped out Ryder's tongue. “He's not crazy.”

“He talks to himself. Or to the souls, as he calls them. I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure that's the textbook definition of crazy.”

Twisting, she threw her glare at him. How like Draven he was. Clueless to the violence he stirred. “I drink blood.”
Or I used to.
“And my closest friends turn into wolves. Are
we
crazy?”

The corner of his mouth kicked up. He should have appeared amused, but he just looked sad. “Probably.”

“Sh-shut up,” Shannon told him. “N-now.”

“What?” Ryder thumped a fist into the roof. “This whole thing is fucked up, yet everyone is acting like it's normal.”

“Then why are you here?” she demanded. “Why did you come with us?”

“I was bored.” Flippant tone, challenging expression.

Shannon peered at him with growing horror. Why the horror? She glanced at the clock on the dash, the numbers glowing a soft red. Nathan and Maxwell had been gone for twenty-three minutes, and Aden for nineteen. When would they return?

“‘I—I was bored' says the b-boy who always t-talks his way out of everything? No. I know y-you. Wh-what did you d-do?” Shannon asked Ryder. “Why did y-you want to leave Crossroads?”

“I did nothing.” Ryder shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “And I didn't want to leave. Aden asked us to come.”

Shannon wasn't giving up. “Wh-what the hell did y-you do? J-just say it. S-say it b-because I already kn-know. Didn't w-want to believe, but you were g-gone last night, after w-we…just after. You reeked of g-gasoline. I believed you when you s-said you'd been working on th-the truck. B-believed you, but you…you… S-say it!”

Cringing, seemingly in pain, Ryder rubbed the spot just above his heart. The two boys glared at each other for a long while. The pain must have been building, must have pushed from him. A moan escaped him, followed by a spew of poisonous yelling.

“You want to hear the truth? Fine. I started the fire.
Okay? All right? There was a voice in my head, and he told me what to do. I tried to stop myself, but I couldn't. You know what else? He told me to kill you, to kill
all
of you, and I stood over your bed. I was going to do it, just like he told me, but I started shaking, and I couldn't. I couldn't do it, so I dragged you out instead.”

Victoria listened, her own sense of horror growing.

“You…you…” Shannon let his head flop into his upraised hands.

“The voice told me to go with Aden, wherever he went. He told me—” Ryder's entire body shook, as if he were having a seizure. His eyes rolled back in his head, until only the whites could be seen through the slits in his lashes.

“R-Ryder!” Darting into action, Shannon pushed his friend to his side, and shoved his own hand into the boy's mouth, trying to prevent him from swallowing his tongue. Then the shaking stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

The passenger door slid open, frosty air once again shoving inside the car to battle with what little warmth remained. No one had opened the door that Victoria could see, yet it had opened—and was now closing on its own. Victoria's horror morphed into alarm, the reason popping into place.

Tucker.

In a snap, he materialized in the seat. His clothes were ragged and bloodstained, his sandy hair plastered to his head and sporting matching streaks of crimson. His eyes held a corrosive sadness that would eat through the rest of him if he wasn't careful.

“Hello, Victoria,” he said. “You got my text, I see.”

She would not be cowed. She might be human, but Riley had trained her in self-defense. Weak as she was, she wasn't completely helpless. “Yes, I did.” And having taken a page from the Aden Stone School of Ass Kicking, she'd stored daggers under the sleeves of her robe.

Motions fluid, Ryder sat up and pushed Shannon away from him. “Do not touch me with your filthy hands, human,” he snapped, and despite his vehemence, his voice was formal, cultured, with a slight Romanian accent in the undertones.

A tremor slid down the length of her spine. She knew that voice. Both loved and hated that voice. But…but…
impossible,
she thought.

“A-are you o-kay?” Even though Ryder had just admitted to destroying Shannon's home, Shannon obviously cared about his welfare.

“I'm fine. Or rather, I will be.” Ryder reached for
his boot, withdrew a dagger of his own—and stabbed Shannon in the heart.

He moved so quickly, Victoria only registered what had happened
after
Shannon screamed. After the blood was flowing. After Ryder twisted the blade deeper and deeper still.

Shannon gurgled, unable to form words. His eyes said it all.
What? Why? How could you?

“No!” Victoria dove into the backseat, placing herself in front of Shannon while thrusting Ryder away from him. Using her back as his shield, uncaring if she was stabbed, she jerked the blade out and pressed her palms into the wound. Warm blood met her quaking hands.

Ryder gave a little laugh. She thought he might even have rubbed his hands together in a job well done. “Smells good, doesn't it, Tucker, my lad?”

“Yes,” Tucker replied automatically.

There was nothing she could do. No way to help. Or to save. Tears burned Victoria's eyes, spilling onto her cheeks. “Shannon, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have…” Done something, anything.

Shannon was gasping now, desperately trying to lure oxygen inside his lungs. Blood seeped from the corners of his mouth. He was in pain, so much pain, and
she hated that more than she hated the thought of his death.

“That,” Ryder said to Tucker, “is how it's done. Had you done that to Aden, my daughter never would have been able to save him.”

His daughter.

Not impossible, then. Vlad had possessed Ryder.

He'd done this. Vlad had done this. To Shannon. To Aden. To all of them. The man she'd once mourned the loss of had
done this.

She couldn't teleport Shannon away. She couldn't carry him out of the car. Waiting for Aden would cause him needless suffering.

Aden. For a moment, she was thrown back to the night of
his
stabbing. He'd been in pain, too. He'd wanted so badly for it end. All of it, including his life. Anything for a little peace. At one point, he'd even begged her to let him go.

She hadn't, then. She could now.

“I'm so sorry.” Hating herself more than ever before, she slashed into Shannon's jugular with her fangs. Fangs that were not as long or sharp as they'd once been, but there was nothing she could do about that now. His gurgling increased before it faded, but he didn't fight her, and as she gulped at the blood as quickly as she could,
she tasted copper and what was surely despair. She didn't let herself dwell on that, not here, not now, and kept drinking, until there was nothing left. Until his head lolled to the side.

Until he was gone, his pain no more.

Distantly she heard the clomp and scratch of a wolf's paws. Nathan. Maxwell.

She straightened with a snap, panting, crying again, and scanned the area outside the car. Everything was blurry. Sniffling, chest heaving—how could she have done that to Shannon, even to set him free?—she wiped at her eyes with the back of her wrist.

There was Maxwell, still wearing his shades, and Nathan, still in his Seeing Eye dog uniform. They were bumping into cars as if they were
both
blind.

“They'll never find this car,” Tucker said. “I've made sure of it.”

“Your ability to cast illusions is the only reason you're still alive, boy,” Ryder remarked. “I hope you know that.”

They were having this conversation
now?
As if nothing had happened? Heartless monsters.

Victoria twisted to face the father who wasn't her father, not anymore, and the boy who had changed her life forever.
“How could you do this?”

“So wonderful to see you again, my love.” Ryder's smile was all winter ice and black dagger. “Even though you have betrayed me in ways I can never and
will never
forgive.”

His intent to kill her shone so brightly in his eyes, she felt spotlighted. “You don't scare me.
Father.
Not anymore.”

He tapped his chin with a fingertip. “Whatever can I do to change that?” A grin so heartless even his amusement was tainted. “I'm sure I'll think of something.”

How did I
ever
look up to this man?
“Shannon did nothing to deserve that kind of death.”

Finally. An expected reaction. His amusement faded, his eyes narrowing to tiny slits and his lips peeling back from his teeth. The expression of a predator who'd spotted prey. “He aided Aden. Of course he deserved to d—”

Victoria dove for him, landed on top of him. Vlad might have possessed Ryder, but Ryder still had a human body. Which meant, Ryder was still vulnerable.

He had nowhere to go as she chewed on his jugular.

As a human, she wasn't so ineffective, after all.

A
DEN HAD FILES STUFFED
under his shirt, inside his pants and clutched under his arms. So did Seth. They'd busted into the small, dusty room Julian had led them to, and as promised, no one had been inside. No one had been inside for a really long time, he suspected. The lock had been rusted, the hinges on the door squeaking and practically falling off with the pressure he'd applied.

They'd hurried from one box to another, rifling through the papers—realizing
everything
related to the unexplainable. Unexplainable deaths, unexplainable injuries, unexplainable healings. They'd grabbed everything they could hold. Later, they'd come back for the rest. As for today, Mary Ann and Riley were priority one.

Now they were on their way back to the SUV, and he couldn't shake a sense of nervousness.

“Elijah,” he muttered.

Seth cast him a strange glance but didn't say anything.

The apology couldn't wait for a little private time. “I'm sorry.” The soul wasn't usually vindictive, but then, maybe Elijah
couldn't
talk. Maybe something was wrong. “I was frustrated.” The words left him in a rush. “I didn't mean to take it out on you.”

A pause. A familiar sigh.
I know.

Finally. Blessedly. “Talk to me. Tell me what's going on with you.”

I've just been thinking. What if all your problems stem from me? From my guidance? What if these bad things happen to you because I tell you they're going to happen? Like a self-fulfilling prophesy?

“Uh, that would be a ‘hell, no.' I need you. Now more than ever.”

What if none of this would have happened if I'd kept my mouth shut?

Aden didn't have to be a psychic to know where this was leading. “Don't do this to me, Elijah. Not now.” Yeah, several times over the years, he'd asked the souls to keep their pie holes closed. A few times they'd tried. A few less, they'd succeeded. For the most part, they'd
failed. Talking to each other and Aden was their only outlet, their only connection to a world they'd lost.

I have to. I'm going to.

This time, there was finality in Elijah's voice. He meant what he said. “No.”

I'm sorry, Aden.

“No,” he repeated.

We're going to try this. We're going to try silence.

“I'm serious. Don't do this to me.”

I really am sorry, Aden. For the past. For…the future. So sorry. I just…I really think this is for the best. So this is it, my last words to you for a while.

“Define a while.” The clouds had done a disappearing act. The sun was high, stroking his skin, making him itch and burn.

As long as it takes. Be careful, and know that I love you.

“Elijah.”

Silence.

“Elijah!”

More silence.

Seth grabbed hold of his arm and jerked him to a stop. “What the crap is this?”

Elijah was momentarily forgotten as Aden's brain tried to make sense of what he was seeing. The once bustling parking lot was completely empty. Of people, of cars.
Except for Maxwell and Nathan, who were a few yards away and bumping into air.

No doubt about it, Tucker was here, casting an illusion. Aden dropped the papers he was holding and ran. Five steps in, and he, too, slammed into something solid, though there was nothing in front of him.

A human he couldn't see huffed out an angry, “Watch where you're going!”

Aden did his best to dodge the invisible person. And maybe he succeeded, but a few more steps, and he was slamming into something else. Most likely a car, since another protest wasn't forthcoming. He lost his breath the moment he hit the concrete. More papers made their way into the breeze, catching on indiscernible cars and staying put.

To be able to manipulate Aden's mind like this, without tampering with the humans around him, was
insane
.

Seth ran up behind him, fisting his shirt and yanking him to his feet. “You're the expert on all things whacked out. Tell me what's going on.”

“Danger, everyone's in danger. Victoria!” he shouted, already running forward again. “Victoria!” If she'd just call out, he could find her.

He slammed into something else.

“Aden,” Maxwell called. A good distance still separated them. “Can you see me?”

“Yes.”

“I can see you but nothing else.”

“Tucker's here. Be careful.”

Maxwell nodded grimly. “We found Riley. He's alive. Guards at his door. Mary Ann was harder to find, we couldn't get her scent, but the guards at her door gave her away. What the hell happened out here? We smell blood, right—” he pointed to a spot about a yard away “—there.”

Aden sniffed and realized he could smell the blood, too. Not Victoria's, but…Shannon's?

Like an engine had just been keyed, Junior roared to life, the scent whipping him into a frenzy.

“Calm down,” Aden said, but that didn't help. “You ate just before we got here.”

His response? Another
gimme
roar.

Though urgency rode him, Aden gingerly made his way through the lot, feeling his way, winding around cars he still couldn't see, until he reached the place where Maxwell had pointed. He reached out and felt—

The SUV. He knew it. The motor was still running, the metal warm.

He frisked the thing until he found the door handle.
Just as he was pulling, the lock caught and the car came back into view.

He was peering through the back window, with a clear view of Shannon. Shannon, at an odd angle. Shannon, blood all over him. Shannon, eyes open and staring out at nothing. Shannon, immobile. Shannon, throat ripped open. Shannon. Dead.

Look away, please look away.
Caleb gagged. Aden could barely hear him over the roaring.
That can't be…that isn't…

No. No, no, no,
Julian babbled.

This was not an illusion. The smell of the blood couldn't be faked, he didn't think. And right now, Junior was more ravenous than ever, clawing and biting at his skull, desperate to escape, to have a go at all that crimson nectar.

Shock numbed Aden against the headache he should have experienced. But even numb, he wanted to vomit when he saw Victoria tearing into Ryder's neck. Blood, gore, other things, spraying, dripping, flinging in every direction as she shook her head, a ravenous shark.

Why would she…how could she…

To Aden's everlasting mortification, his mouth watered. Part of him, a part that had nothing to do with
Junior, wanted to slit the car in half just to get inside and go to town on that wound.

Ryder wasn't dead. His mouth was open, releasing a silent scream, and his struggles were weakening.

Body heat at Aden's side. A horrified gasp in his ear. Banging on the glass. “Stop! What the hell are you doing? Stop!” Seth hammered at the window, shaking the entire vehicle. When that failed to elicit results, he shoved Aden's immobile hand aside and jerked at the locked trunk.

The commotion jolted Victoria out of her craze. She stilled, head turning slowly, as if she feared what she'd find. Their eyes met. She was panting, blood dripping down her face. But…he didn't see a glaze of bloodlust, something that would explain why she'd gone after his friends. He saw sadness, remorse…fury. Frustration. Tears.

Her gaze darted to the passenger seat before turning to Aden, beseeching. He sniffed—and at last caught Tucker's dark scent.

Tucker hadn't appeared, but Aden knew he was inside that vehicle. Knew Victoria was in grave danger.

He swept around the vehicle and clawed at the metal as he'd imagined doing, ripping the door from its hinges.
Instantly the odor of blood intensified, but now it was mixed with the pungent scent of death.

He swooped in and gathered Victoria in his arms. She was trembling violently. As he straightened, she buried her face in the hollow of his neck, arms winding around him and holding tightly. She released a gut-wrenching sob.

“He…my father…possessed…”

Maxwell and Nathan bounded to his side. Maxwell tried to check Victoria for injuries, an impossible task since Aden refused to release her, and she refused to release him. Nathan snarled into the car, poison dripping from his canines.

“Call off your dog,” Tucker's voice said, even though he was still nowhere to be seen.

“Eat him, and make sure there's nothing for anyone to find,” Aden commanded, then had to catch Nathan by the nape to stop him from obeying as Tucker added, “You want to save your remaining friends, right? Because I'm the only person who can help you.”

Victoria wiggled until she got her legs on the ground, but she still didn't release Aden's neck. “He's…he's…right. Don't hurt him. We need him.”

Need him? When had
that
happened? And what the
hell had happened in there? “Tucker, don't you dare move.”

A laugh, and Tucker appeared, no longer trying to shield himself. He sat in the passenger seat, as calm as you please. His blond hair was plastered to his scalp, and his face was splattered with blood. “Like you could stop me if I did.”

Seth was shaking his head in time to his body's shaking.

“Victoria,” Aden said, gentling his tone. “I'm going to move away from you now. Okay?”

Her sobs took on a frantic edge. “No! Please!”

“Just for a minute or two,” he said, already easing away from her. He made sure she could balance on her own before lowering his arms. “I'm going to help Ryder. Okay?”

“Don't.” She wiped at her tears with the back of a wobbly wrist. “Ryder killed Shannon. He started the fire at the ranch, and he would have killed me, but I…I… Vlad possessed him, worked through him.”

“Vlad
possessed
him?” Maxwell echoed hollowly. “But…but…something like that is impossible.”

“Actually, it's very possible.” Thanks to Caleb, Aden had possessed other people himself. Many times. He'd simply stepped inside their bodies and taken over their
minds. Was that what Vlad had done? Was Vlad inside Ryder's mind, even now? Would killing Ryder end them both? “As for now, I'm gonna help Ryder as best I can.”

“You believe her? Just like that?” Seth banged a fist into the car, cracking the already abused glass. “You saw what she was doing. She had her teeth in his neck.
And. You. Believe. Her?
”

“Yeah, I do,” Aden replied as he climbed inside the car. “Don't speak when you don't understand.”

“Oh, I understand plenty,” Seth said. “She's a murderer, and you don't care.”

“She's not a murderer,” he snarled from his post. There was one subject guaranteed to hurtle him into a fight. Victoria's honor. She wasn't a liar, and she was
broken
about this. He wouldn't have her hurt further.

Tucker didn't try to stop him as he whipped off his T-shirt and wound it around Ryder's gushing neck. He didn't let himself think about Shannon, who lay behind him, gone, unsavable. Or rather, he tried not to let himself.

Shannon, the first boy at the ranch to be nice to him.

Shannon, whose body might rise from the dead and attack him.

Shannon, whom he'd have to kill all over again.

Hurry,
he told himself.

Poor Shannon,
Julian said.

Another senseless death,
Caleb cried.

The scent of blood was overpowering. Moisture pooled around his tongue, and his gums ached. Junior's roars laced with fury, and the banging against his skull became more pronounced.

“Keep an eye on Shannon,” Aden said to no one in particular. “Tell me if he so much as twitches.”

“Will do,” Maxwell vowed.

“And don't worry,” Tucker piped up. “No one but us can see what's going on here. I've made sure of it.”

Good Samaritan Award, meet Tucker. Or not. “You'll pay for this,” Aden told him. “All of it. I hope you know that.”

“Oh, yeah,” the boy said, sadder than Aden had ever heard him. “I know.”

I could possess him right now,
Caleb growled.
I could make him hurt himself.

No. You heard him, and you heard Vic.
Julian, a voice of reason.
We need his illusion.

Aden lifted one of Ryder's limp arms and felt for a pulse. Weak, thready, but there. The ring Aden still wore, Vlad's ring, glinted in the sunlight. He'd had the thing refilled, so there was plenty of
je la nune
inside.

Best I can
included cutting himself open and feeding the boy his blood. So that's exactly what Aden did. With the pad of his thumb, he slid the glittering jewel out of the way. The clear liquid swirling inside, so innocent-looking. He tilted his hand to the side, allowing a single drop to splash against his other.

The burn and sizzle were instantaneous, and he hissed between his teeth. But blood welled, and he let the ensuing stream fall over Ryder's neck, into his mouth.

“Shannon's twitching,” Maxwell said.

Aden's heart gave a little leap. Maybe, despite everything, he'd
wanted
Shannon to rise. He wasn't ready to say goodbye.

If that were true, Aden had just committed his most dishonorable deed of the week. What he wanted shouldn't have mattered. Turning his friend into a zombie, that was low, even for him.

“Hold him down,” he said.

The shifter jumped on top of the body the moment Shannon's eyelids popped apart. Dull green eyes locked on Aden, and blood-soaked hands reached out.

Seth reached in and batted Maxwell away in an attempt to prevent the shifter from hurting his friend. A friend who was now a zombie, a fresh corpse who would
know only a hunger for living flesh. Whose saliva would poison Aden and make him crave a death of his own.