Intertwined

When he was behind the wheel, she said, “Where did you go when we split? I was worried.”



The engine revved and he eased onto the now empty road. He drove so easily it was as if the car were simply an extension of himself. “I had to help Victoria with a problem. And I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he added, twining their fingers and lifting her hand to his lips, “I still can’t tell you what that problem is. Victoria hasn’t told Aden and he should be the first to know.”



“I understand.”



“Do you?”



“Of course.”



He flicked her a glance, his eyes darkening, his lips slightly swollen and red—probably mirrors of hers. “You amaze me. Anyone else would be tossing a stream of questions or accusations my way, hoping to break me.”



“Not my style.” Or hadn’t been until today. People revealed their secrets when they were ready. Pushing them only gave birth to bitterness. As for her dad’s secrets, he might not have been ready to reveal them and he might resent her later, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. They’d never truly belonged to him.



“For what it’s worth, your father loves you,” Riley said, clearly catching the crux of her thoughts. “That makes you very lucky. I have no parents. They died not long after my birth, so I was raised by Victoria’s father, who believes boys should be warriors, weakness not something to be tolerated. I learned to fight with all manner of weapons at the age of five and killed my first enemy at the age of eight. And when I was injured…” Red stained his cheeks. He looked away from her, cleared his throat. “There was no one to hold me, no one to kiss me and make me better.”



She would, she decided. From then on, she would be there to comfort him. As he had comforted her this night. As Carolyn had done for her. Knowing he had endured such a terrible childhood only intensified her feelings for him. To have never received a hug or had someone to pat him on the head and tell him how wonderful he was, was criminal. To force him to war, even more so.



Despite the lies, she realized she was lucky to have had her childhood, her parents.



“You amaze me,” she said. And he liked her. He’d admitted it, kissed her. What did that mean for them, though? “Do you think…could you…has one of your kind ever…you know, dated one of mine?”



His hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles leaching of color. “No. Werewolves live much longer than humans, so dating one is considered the epitome of stupid.”



“Oh.” She couldn’t hide her disappointment. She’d hoped. And had been looking forward to being stupid.



“But we will find a way to do so,” he said.



“Oh,” she said again, but this time she was smiling.



TWENTY-ONE



IT WAS AFTER Aden finished his nightly chores that he noticed his eyes were shutting down, narrowing his field of vision until he saw only slivers of light. Unsure what was happening, he holed up in his bedroom. He couldn’t lock the door because, as of today, Shannon was his new roommate. Apparently Ozzie had been caught sneaking drugs into Aden’s room earlier that day (just as Aden had feared).



For once, luck had been on his side and Dan had witnessed what was happening from outside the window. Or maybe it had been an aftereffect of his time traveling. Either way, the police had come out and carted Ozzie off. He was currently being held in a detention center and would not be returning to the ranch.



That eliminated one of Aden’s worries.



Dan had noticed the new friendship between Aden and Shannon and, in an apparent effort to encourage it, had moved Shannon into Aden’s room. It was weird, no longer being alone at the ranch. Even weirder, Brian, Terry, Ryder and Seth had been nice to him all day. Without Ozzie’s influence, they now seemed to consider him one of their own.



Aden felt as if he’d somehow ended up in a new dimension, or an alternate world.



He stumbled his way to the bed, the bottom bunk, and sprawled out. What was wrong with him? Was he going blind? If so, why? Even as he wondered, what little light he could see was disappearing, leaving only shrouding black.



“What’s wrong with me?” he muttered, panicking.



Victoria’s blood, maybe, Eve said.



She did warn you there would be complications, Caleb said. Then he whistled. God, she’s hot. When are you going to kiss her again?



Victoria’s blood. Of course. Relief sparked inside him, only to be quickly doused. A dull ache sprang to life in his head, knocking against his temples. How long would the pain and blindness last?



The door squeaked open, then closed. Footsteps shuffled, clothes rustled.



“You okay, man?” Shannon asked. His voice was rough, his throat still clearly raw. “You look awful.”



He hadn’t stuttered, even a little. Perhaps the lack of Ozzie’s constant teasing and the confidence of knowing he had real friends had had an impact.



“Not doing so well.” Aden could feel his friend’s body heat, and knew he was close. “Are we alone?”



“Yes.”



If Victoria came over—where was she? What was she doing?—he wanted to be ready. Well, as ready as a guy in his condition could be.



“The window…girl…”



“Say no more. I’ll leave it unlocked.”



A moan escaped him as the ache in his head mutated into a sharp throb, pounding against every inch of his skull like a battering ram, determined to split it open. He almost hoped it did. Then the pain could escape. Pain so intense even his companions felt it, moaning along with him.



Just when he thought he could stand it no longer, multihued pinpricks of light suddenly flared—behind his eyes. A scene began to take shape: a darkened alleyway, softly lit by the streetlights beyond it. Every so often a car would pass the alley, but hidden as he was, he was safe from observation. He was glad. His keen sense of smell let him know that no one besides him and his meal were present, no one could watch what he was about to do, and that was good, he thought, very good. Only, it wasn’t his thought. It didn’t spring from his mind. It was a little desperate, a lot hungry. Even shamed.



He was standing behind a man, a man who appeared to be of average height, and yet Aden was at eye level instead of towering over him. He had one pale, dainty hand on the guy’s head, angling it to the side, the other on the guy’s shoulder, holding him steady.



Pale? Dainty? Those were not his hands, yet they were extensions of his body. He glanced down. Nope. Not his body, either. This one wore a black robe and had sweet curves.



Victoria, he realized. He must be living this scene through Victoria’s eyes. Was it happening now? Or had it happened earlier? Was it a memory?



“You are a naughty boy,” Aden said, but it wasn’t his voice. It was Victoria’s. Never had he heard such a cold, unrelenting tone. He could feel her fury, could still taste her consuming hunger, yet she gave neither away.



Have to stay strong, she was thinking. Have to protect Aden, Riley and Mary Ann. My friends. My only friends. Oh, God. When Aden learns about Dmitri…don’t think about that right now. Eat.



Aden experienced a jolt. Dmitri, the boy who had come to Aden’s window, who had watched him with Victoria, who had scared Victoria enough to send her fleeing. His hands fisted the cotton beneath him.



“You hit your wife and your son, and you think yourself so superior,” she sneered. “When the truth is you’re really just a sniveling coward who deserves to die in this urine-scented alley.”



The man trembled. She’d already commanded his lips to remain sealed, his voice box to cease working, so he couldn’t talk, couldn’t even whimper.



“But I won’t kill you. That would be too easy. Now you’ll get to live with the knowledge that you were bested by a little girl.” She laughed cruelly. “A little girl who will hunt you down if ever you touch your wife and child in anger again. And if you think I will not know, think again. I saw what you did to them only this morning, didn’t I?”



The man’s trembling increased.



Having made her point, Victoria savagely bit into his neck. There was nothing slow and gentle about it, as she’d done to Aden. She dug her fangs deep, hitting tendon. The man’s body jerked, his muscles spasmed. She was careful not to allow any of her saliva to seep into his vein, which would have made the experience better for him. It would have drugged him, as Aden had felt drugged.



The metallic smell of blood saturated the air, and Aden breathed it in deeply, exactly as Victoria was doing. She loved it, her hunger luxuriating in it, and he found that through her senses, he loved it too. His mouth was watering, his throat swelling with need.



Why can’t I change their natures? Why can I only play with their memories? What good do I do? On and on she drank, until the man’s legs buckled. That’s when the direction of her thoughts changed. Thank God Aden isn’t here. I’m an animal, an animal with blood all over her face.



Her teeth pulled free, and she released him. He fell to the pavement, his head knocking against the Dumpster in front of him.



Victoria bent and cupped his chin in her hands. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow, choppy. Blood dripped from two puncture wounds in his neck.



“You will not remember me or what I did and said to you. You will remember only the fear you felt at my words.” And maybe, just maybe, that fear would actually spur him to change his ways. Maybe not. Either way, she’d done all she could. Except kill him, and that she was forbidden to do.



One did not go against her father’s laws. The first time she’d accidentally killed, she’d been warned. The next and final time—for she’d learned her lesson well—she’d been flogged with a whip laced with je la nune, the substance in her ring.



She opened that ring now, dipped a finger inside and pressed her nail against her fingertip. Instantly her skin sizzled open, creating a pinprick wound. The burn…it rushed through every part of her, blistering, leaving her gasping and out of breath.



Aden cried out, feeling it himself.