Twisted

SEVENTEEN

RILEY 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—

Saw movement. Across the street, in the bushes of another house. Leaves rattling, a glow of orange. The color of confidence and determination. Riley pulled from the kiss and narrowed his focal point. The orange glow was faint, as if concealed by a metaphysical scarf, but it was there all the same.

“Riley?”

“Hang on.”

A girl stood from the center of those bushes. Blonde, familiar. Witch. She held a crossbow, the tip aimed directly at Mary Ann. Riley jolted to his feet, taking Mary Ann with him even while shoving her out of the way.

He was too late. The action had been anticipated.

The witch moved with him, fluidly shifting her aim. The arrow whizzed faster than a blink. Glass shattered, and that arrow slammed into Mary Ann’s back.

She screamed, a high-pitched sound of pain and shock, her eyes flaring wide, her body jolting. She was so close to him, the tip sliced at Riley’s chest. He jerked her to the floor just as another arrow slicked through the now-open window, this one sticking in the far wall.

“What…happened?” She was panting, her words barely audible. Blood poured down her chest and back, soaking her with little crimson rivers. Her aura was blue once again, but fading, the other colors having vanished. Her energy was draining.

“The witches found us.” He never should have discounted their ability to track like the humans. And he never should have kissed Mary Ann. Deep down, he had known the dangers, the risks, but he’d allowed his need of her to persuade him.

This was on him.

He couldn’t shift and hunt the witch-bitches because he couldn’t leave Mary Ann like this. And hell! She should have been protected from mortal injury. She should have started healing already.

He’d warded her for exactly this kind of thing weeks ago. A stabbing, gunshot, arrow, it didn’t matter. She. Should. Heal. But the witch had seen her back, the ward, and had aimed accordingly, hitting her in the one spot guaranteed to prevent her from healing supernaturally: the center of the ward, disrupting the words and negating the inked spell completely.

Just then, Mary Ann was as vulnerable as any other human. Unless…

“Feed off me,” he said, even as he calculated the best escape route. He’d already walked through the place and memorized the exits, but he didn’t know if witches now surrounded the place. If they did, the moment he carried Mary Ann away, they’d start shooting again.

“No,” she croaked.

“Yes. You have to. You need to.” If she fed off him, she would be strengthened. He would be weakened, yes, but she could take the witches out in a way he could not. All at once, rather than one at a time. Besides, it was fitting. Her ability to drain was why the enemy had chosen to notch her up with holes. “Feed off me and kill them.”

“No,” she said again, the depths of her stubbornness more apparent than ever.

“If you don’t, they’ll kill you.”

“No.”

Done arguing, Riley stripped the rest of the way and shifted into his wolf form, his bones readjusting, fur sprouting from his pores. He was so used to doing this, it felt more like stretching after a nap than actually becoming something new.

He clamped his teeth on Mary Ann’s arm, as gently as he could, which wasn’t much, and forced her to climb onto his back.

Another arrow soared overhead, just missing her.

Hold on tight, he commanded, speaking into her mind as he bounded from the living room.

“O…kay,” she said, her teeth chattering.

He was a stupid idiot fool. She needed what little warmth her clothes would offer, but he couldn’t pull a shirt over her injury and he couldn’t afford to carry the material in his mouth. Currently his teeth were the only weapon he had.

He really could have used Tucker just then. Words he’d never thought to entertain. But an illusion or two would have seriously come in handy.

Left with no other choice, Riley raced out the back door, bursting through the hollowed plywood without pause. He zigzagged off the porch, making himself a harder target to lock onto, and good thing. Arrows rained.

How many witches were out there? More than Jennifer and Marie, he knew that much.

“Hurt,” Mary Ann said.

I know, sweetheart. He pushed the words into her head. I’d take your pain into my own body if I could.

An arrow homed in on him and lodged in his front left leg. He snarled at the pain, but didn’t slow and didn’t dare stumble. Mary Ann would have fallen, and he couldn’t allow that. Gravel bit into his paws, making everything worse. A quick search of the area, and he saw eleven auras. All orange, and all faint. They must have bespelled themselves, hoping to hide from him. Well, their spell hadn’t worked fully.

He narrowed his focus on the one farthest from the others and closed in. A blur of motion, never slowing, he raced past the witch and chomped her between his jaws, dragging her along. She struggled against him, but still he didn’t slow. Kept moving, taking both females farther and farther away. Careful, so careful.

Drain her, he commanded Mary Ann. Now!

She must have obeyed, because the witch’s struggles tapered off…stopped completely. She became a limp rag in his mouth, and he spit her out. Still he didn’t slow.

Any better?

“A little.”

He’d get her somewhere safe and doctor her himself. Then, the hunt would begin. No more letting the witches and the fae chase while he and Mary Ann ran. That had been his biggest mistake, and one he wouldn’t make again.

The hunters were about to become the prey.