Twisted (26 page)

“I choose swords,” the man said.

“Excellent choice.” Vlad glided down the stairs to the floor. “When? Where?”

“Now. Here.”

A nod of satisfaction. “We are of one mind, then.”

“Only in this.”

Someone from the crowd threw a sword at Vlad and a sword at his opponent. Both caught the weapons with ease. A second later, the man lunged forward, throwing himself into the fight.

Vlad stood completely still. Until, just before the man reached him, he turned, a blur of motion, and slashed.

Blood and guts spilled all over the floor.

The man dropped to his knees, gasping, gurgling, his eyes wide. He clutched at his middle, not yet grasping the depths of his swift defeat. Without breaking a sweat or moving a step, Vlad struck a second time, and off went the man's head.

A collective gasp sounded from the crowd.

“Anyone else?” Vlad asked, buffing his nails on the waist of his pants. “It would be my pleasure to fight any of you.”

Edina burst into sobs and rushed from the room,
leaving her little girl behind. A little girl who was shaking as her father turned the force of his displeasure on her.

“Why did you not stop her? 'Tis
her
lover in pieces on the floor. A man you would have called Father, I am sure. A man you
wanted
to call Father.”

“No! I—I—”

“I will hear no excuses or false denials from you.” He waved a hand through the air. “Go. Take the head and place it on a pike. The task is yours, and you will complete it or find yourself resting beside him.”

Her trembling increased as she rushed to obey, wading through things no child should
ever
encounter.

Aden's first thought had nothing to do with Vlad, fighting Vlad or having no hope of winning against a man like that. His mind concentrated solely on Victoria. Knowing she had endured this undid him.

He wanted to run to the girl she'd been, whisk her away, protect her from such horrors. The man who'd just been gutted was the man Edina had attempted to run away with, leaving her daughter behind. The daughter who then had to clean up her mother's mess. Literally.

His poor Victoria. Once he would have placed good money on the fact that no one could have a childhood
worse than his. Hers had been, though. In comparison, he'd been raised in heaven by doting angels.

The scene disappeared, there one minute, a cloud of vapor the next.

“Aden,” Victoria whispered, shaking him into the present. “Someone's coming.”

He rapid-fire blinked into focus as the front door of the house creaked open, Tonya peeking out. He hadn't summoned her, yet here she was. Checking to make sure he was gone most likely, but whatever. He'd take what he could get.

“What do you want?” she snapped when she spotted him. She didn't step out on the porch, but kept the screen between them. “Why won't you leave?”

Aden unfolded from the swing. “My friends visited you, asked you about your husband—”

“Yes, and I told the girl not to return.”

“And so she hasn't. I'm here.”

“Sorry, but I have nothing to say to you, either.”

She made to close the door, and that's when Aden caved. Sick of waiting, sick of questions without answers and no longer willing to view his new gift as a curse, he said, “Leave the door open,” putting all of his want into the words.

Victoria had loved her Voice Voodoo, but she'd
given it up. For him. Aden wouldn't make light of that anymore.

Tonya's eyes immediately glazed over, and she left the door alone.

Victoria stood beside him and twined their fingers, offering comfort.

“Your brother-in-law died, and he left no family behind. Do you have any photographs of him? Any personal effects?”

Silence.

“Tell her to tell you,” Victoria instructed.

“Tell me what I wish to know,” he added, wanting it, wanting it so badly.

“I—” Though Tonya's eyes were still glazed, she found the strength to deny him. “I can't tell you.”

A frowning Victoria shook her head. “That's impossible. You have to tell him. He commanded you to. I don't know anything, but even
I
want to obey him.”

“I…I can't.”

Slowly Aden disengaged from Victoria and approached Tonya, doing his best not to spook her. Tonya remained in place. Though he was younger than she was, he was taller, a lot taller, and he had to look down…down…to meet that still-glazed stare. That's when he saw some
thing besides a glassy sheen swimming in those gray depths. Something dark, like a shadow.

Julian saw it, too, and gasped in dismay.
What
is
that?

“Don't know.” Aden drew on every ounce of his need for answers. He let that need churn in his voice box, until his throat nearly steamed from the burn of it, before speaking again. “You will tell me what I want to know, Tonya Smart. Now.”

The shadows coagulated, then broke apart and scattered, and Tonya relaxed a little. “Yes. I do have photographs and personal effects.”

Answers, that easily. It was as powerful and addictive as he'd suspected. As powerful and addictive as a vampire's bite. That wasn't going to stop him. “Bring them to me. Give them to me.”

“Bring. Give. Yes.” She disappeared inside the house.

Half an hour ticked by, and Aden began to worry that he'd lost her, that she'd shaken out of his mental hold and taken off out the back door, never to return. But then, as suddenly as she'd left, she was back in the doorway, holding a box out to him.

It. Had. Worked.

He claimed the thing with a relieved, “Thank you.”

Julian was dancing through his head.
I can't believe this! There could be a picture of me in there.

Aden balanced the box with one hand, used the other to grab Victoria and headed back to the motel to study what was inside. Hopefully, Riley and Mary Ann were just as lucky.

Or not.

R
ILEY KICKED IN THE
front door, wooden shards raining in every direction. No alarm sounded. That didn't mean one hadn't been tripped, but screw it. Last time he'd been in this neighborhood, playing it safe had almost killed him.
Had
killed his animal. So, no more playing it safe.

His hands balled into fists as he stomped into the house. He couldn't think about the past right now. He'd rage and destroy everything in sight. “We've got five minutes.” After that, the authorities could arrive. “Let's make the most of it.”

Mary Ann rushed in behind him. “So, just grab what I can?”

Joe and Paula Stone supposedly lived there. So, yeah, grabbing what they could was the plan. A plan they'd gone over several times already. He stalked down the
hallway without bothering to reply. She knew the answer, she was just nervous. He wished he could comfort her, but just then, he was having trouble comforting himself.

There were only two doorways along this route. He entered the first. Master bedroom? Maybe. Small, sparse, with only a bed, a nightstand and a dresser. On the bed, the covers were in disarray, as if they'd been shoved away in a hurry. A cup on the nightstand was tipped to its side, the contents—water, from the looks of it—had dripped to the floor, where clothes were piled. The dresser's drawers were partly open. The only window was covered by thick black paint.

Clearly no one had been here for a while. Probably since the morning he and Mary Ann had nearly had sex in the house across the street, and both their lives had changed forever.

If so, well, Joe and Paula Stone had run. For good. And if they'd run, that meant they'd known Riley and Mary Ann were coming. But how could they have known? And
why
run? What had they feared?

“Riley,” Mary Ann called.

He followed the sound of her voice and was soon standing beside her in the second bedroom. Toys lit
tered the floor, a fact that momentarily rendered him speechless.
“They have a kid?”

“Either that, or they have a home day care.”

“A day care that caters strictly to girls? No.” There was nothing masculine in the room. No blue, no race cars, no action figures. Just pink, stuffed animals and dolls.

“Do you think…”

That Aden has a sister? “Maybe.” Probably. And what a way to find out. He thought back to the couple, to the truck, but didn't recall seeing a car seat. That didn't mean the girl hadn't been with them. “Just…” What? He looked for a clock, couldn't find one. How were they on time? “Go to the kitchen, go through all the drawers. Grab any kind of bill you find. Anything with a name.”

“Okay.” She didn't run off, but stood there. “Riley, I—”

“I can't talk about it. Just go,” he said and returned to the master bedroom before she could say anything else. Trying to force his mind to a Happy Place, he dug through the closet, every drawer in the nightstand, then searched under the mattress and bed. Nothing personal had been left behind.

Figured.

“Uh, Riley,” Mary Ann called, her voice cracking.

His back was to her, but he could sense her fear. He jackknifed to a stand and turned toward her, only to freeze, his breath icing over in his lungs.

“Mary Ann. Walk to me. Slowly.”

A strangling sound slipped from her. “Can't.”

“You don't issue orders, little boy. I do,” said the man standing behind her. The man pointing a gun at her head.

He was tall, blond and lean. He wore a flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up halfway on his arms to reveal several tattoos. Wards. Against what, Riley couldn't tell. Yet. He needed a closer look. What he did know? Anger pulsed from the guy in dark, agitated waves. He'd shoot, and he wouldn't care about the dead bodies he left behind.

Riley cursed himself for not teaching Mary Ann how to react in this type of situation. “You hurt her,” he said just as calmly, “and I'll kill you.” That was not an empty boast.

Throughout his life, he'd done that and more. He'd never been one to strike without cause, but he'd never been one to sit back and take whatever was being served, either.

“That'll be a little hard for you to do if you're dead,
now won't it.” A statement when it should have been a question. “But don't you worry. I'll make it fast.”

The sad thing was, Riley had no argument. No real defense. Had he not lost his wolf, he would have heard the man enter the house. Failing that, he would have smelled him. Instead, he'd allowed his ex-girlfriend to be terrorized. He kinda deserved what he got.

Not Mary Ann, though, she didn't deserve any of this. Not…his ex. Only then did he realize he'd just thought of her in past tense, rather than present. Something he'd never done before, not with her.

The man pushed the gun into her scalp, which pushed her forward. She stumbled into the room.

“I'm so sorry,” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. “He snuck up on me, and I—”

“Shut up, girl. I've heard enough from you.”

When she was finally within reach, Riley latched onto her arm and jerked her behind him. She was trembling, her fingers clutching at his. There was no time to comfort her. To act as her shield, he had to release her completely. Her palms flattened on his back, then fisted in his T-shirt. Then she released him as he had done to her—and stepped beside him.

He stepped in front of her and glared over at the gun-wielding human, who'd watched the entire scene with a
hard, seen-it-all-before expression. They were about the same height, which put the guy at about six foot three.

“Are you Joe Stone?”

There was a flash of surprise in the guy's eyes, but he ignored the question to ask one of his own. “Are you the kids who busted my neighbor's window and left blood everywhere?”

“Yeah,” Riley answered. “So?”

“So?” Such blatant honesty left the guy reeling but only for a moment. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?”

Should he give the truth or a lie this time? Who
was
this person? He and Aden had the same hair color and the same square chin, but then, thousands of people did. Nothing else looked similar.

The man's face was rough, his nose slightly crooked, as if it had been broken a time or ten, and there were tiny scars crisscrossing on his cheeks. Aden had an angel's face, no suggestion of roughness.

“I asked you a question, boy.”

“And I didn't answer it.”
Don't poke at the bear.
Especially when his wolf couldn't eat that bear.

A new concept for Riley. On paper, he was older than this man. Used to be stronger—on paper and in a ring.
A lot stronger. And a lot meaner. Now what was he? Pathetic, that's what.

“We know your son,” Mary Ann said with a calm, even tone. “Aden. Haden, I mean. Everyone calls him Aden.”

No expression change from Stonehenge over there. Worse, his grip on the gun was steady, proving his strength. Anyone else would have already grown tired of its weight. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Oh, I thought…you should have…maybe we were…this isn't happening!” she cried. “What if we're in the wrong house?”

“We aren't,” Riley said.

She spoke over him. “Sir, I'm sorry. Very sorry. We shouldn't have…”

A primitive part of Riley wanted to punish the man for crushing her fighting spirit. And maybe her recent brush with death was partly to blame, too, having dulled her brave streak and—hey. She'd just inched her way in front of him again. For the love of—she was trying to act as
his
shield.

So much for a crushed spirit.

He could have taken that as a sign she still maybe kinda sorta loved him. But all he could think was that
she no longer viewed him as strong enough to take care of her. Why would she? He didn't.

Joe Possible cocked the gun, getting serious. “You got five seconds to start talking, boy, or your brains will paint my walls.”

“Are you going to count out loud so I can spew all my secrets at the last possible moment?” There was no need to wait for Joe's reply. And he planned to treat the man like he was Joe from then on. Otherwise, Riley would flounder. “You know exactly who Aden is. He's your son.” As he spoke, he shoved Mary Ann behind him. One step, two, he backed her up, trying to get her to the window. She could jump through and run, and he could deal with the situation without fear of casualties.

“I don't have a son.”

“I don't believe you.”

“Don't care. Why would you think I was this Joe?”

“News flash. Answering a question with another question doesn't make you smart or mysterious.”

Those dark eyes narrowed farther, becoming tiny slits. “Watch the attitude, kid. I'm the one with the gun.”

Another backward step. Almost there…

“I know what you're doing, so don't you dare move another inch.” Joe advanced until the barrel of the gun
was pressing into Riley's chest. “You're not leaving here. Not until I get some answers.”

“Like yours is the first gun I've had pointed my way. You want me scared, do something original. You want answers, let the girl go.”

“No,” Mary Ann said, and he reached back to squeeze her arm, a silent command to shut the hell up. “I'm staying.”

“Don't listen to her.”

“Too late,” Joe said. “I listened. She stays.”

Oh, hell, no. They weren't playing that game. “You'll regret that decision.” Riley put his hands up, palms out, as if he were submitting.

“Actually, I don't think I will.”

Moving swiftly, Riley grabbed the gun and pushed down, hard. Joe fired off a shot, but the bullet slammed into the floor.

Riley didn't release him but held him like that and punched him once, twice, with his other hand. Then, while Joe was dazed, he used both hands to twist the gun, breaking Joe's trigger finger in the process. He could have fired off a shot himself, but he didn't. He just pulled the weapon from the now-loosened grip and aimed.

“Told you.”

Cursing under his breath, grimacing, Joe held up his hands, palms out. Unlike Riley, he meant it. His broken finger lay at an odd angle, the rest of the appendage useless.

Riley kept the gun trained on him, certain he had other weapons stashed in other places. “Move, and it'll be the last thing you do. Mary Ann, call Aden.”

“What? Why?”

“He needs to be here.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw her withdraw her cell and scroll through her address book. A few seconds later, she was whispering into the receiver. All the while, he kept the bulk of his attention on Joe, on the lookout for a reaction. Besides a slight hitch of breath and a truckload of trembling, the guy gave no reaction.

“If you're not Joe Stone,” he said, determined to uncover the truth before Aden got here, “who are you?”

A gulp. “All right. I'll play. Let's say I am this Joe Stone. What would you want with me?”

Okay. So. He was Joe, no doubt about it. Why else would he have asked that question? But why the subterfuge? “An apology for starters.”

“For protecting my home?”

“For abandoning your son.”

A twitch underneath his eye. From irritation? Or guilt?

“Mary Ann?” Riley said.

“Y-yes?”

“Come here.”

She was at his side a second later. “Aden's on his way.”

“That's good. Now hold the gun,” he said, still not taking his eyes off Joe.

“What!”

Fear once again pulsed from her.

“Hold the gun, keep your finger on the trigger and squeeze if he moves.”

“Okay. Sure. Yes. Okay.” With trembling hands, she reached out and did as he instructed. The gun was heavy, and he doubted she would be able to hold it for long, so he moved quickly, stalking to Joe and patting him down, but always staying out of Mary Ann's line of fire. Riley found three blades, a syringe of something and a Taser. What he didn't find was ID.

Through it all, Joe stood completely still. Smart of him.

“Riley,” Mary Ann said.

“You're doing good, sweetheart.” He shoved Joe to the bed, away from the discarded blades, Mary Ann
following with the barrel of the gun. “Sit down and stay down.”

Joe sat, and Riley returned to Mary Ann's side. When he reclaimed the gun, she let out a relieved breath.

“Grab the blades and stand beside the door. Anyone besides Aden or Victoria walk into this room, stab them.”

“No one else is here,” Joe said. “And no one will be coming to my rescue.”

Dude's default tone was emotionless, and he'd gone back to it. Riley arched a brow at him. “Paula, your wife, isn't going to come busting in to save you, then?”

Bronzed skin paled to a sickly gray. “No, she's not. And don't think to go looking for her. She's safe.”

Oh, yes. This was Joe Stone.

Silence reigned, until an hour later, Aden arrived, Victoria behind him. Both wore wrinkled clothing, and both had total bed head. Victoria's cheeks were flushed, and there were two perfect punctures in her neck. Hell, there were even puncture marks in Aden's neck, though his were jagged, clearly torn, as if he'd fended off a human.

Victoria was getting sloppy. If only that were the least of Aden's worries. They weren't just feeding off each other now, which was dangerous, considering what
they'd just been through, they were sleeping together. As Riley could attest, nothing productive happened when you mixed business with pleasure.

And if Aden's beast got free…if Victoria lost herself to blood lust…well, no one would survive. But both were steady on their feet, neither was trembling, and neither was salivating and staring at thumping pulses.

Good thing. Those vampire beasts reacted to aggression and testosterone, and there was a lot of that in the air right now, practically thickening into a fog.