Unraveled

TWENTY-TWO

ADEN AWOKE MORE CLEARHEADED than he’d been in what seemed forever, but also a little peeved. He was in the vampire stronghold; he remembered being whisked here, kissing Victoria, feeding her, loving her, but now he was alone in her massive bed and there was no sign that she’d ever been here. No Victoria meant no more kissing or feeding.

At least he wasn’t twitchy and in withdrawal, needing her to bite him again. Therefore he hadn’t become a blood-slave last night.

He sat up and looked around. The room was as white as he remembered, and he could guess why she’d chosen such a blank canvas. Her father remained true to the I’m-an-evil-badass stereotype: black, black and more black. Colors, which Victoria loved, hadn’t really been allowed, so she’d done the next best thing. The opposite of what her father had wanted.

A small rebellion, but so wonderfully telling. Deep down, she hadn’t wanted to be like her father. Here, in the privacy of her bedroom, she’d allowed herself to be herself.

This place gives me the creeps, Caleb said.

“Why?” He glanced down at himself. He was still wearing his jeans and T-shirt, but his boot, socks and blades had been removed. By Victoria? Had she run her hands all over him? He wished he’d been awake for that.

’Cause there’s no naked girls.

Aden laughed. Typical Caleb.

Well, I like it, Julian said. Add your clothes in the closet, and this would feel more like home than the ranch.

“And why do you say that?” he asked, gaze straying to the closet in question. The entry was dark, too dark to see what rested inside. Probably black robe after black robe.

It’s almost like we’re smack in the middle of an unwritten book. Like there’s nothing here but blank pages.

Which means we can write the story however we want. And anyway, you don’t see this room as it will one day be, Elijah said. There are colors, so many beautiful colors.

That put a smile on Aden’s face. “Will I be here?”

Elijah didn’t reply.

Aden took that for a no, and said goodbye to his blossoming good mood. How could he have forgotten, even for a second, that he was going to die? I don’t want to die, he thought.

Once, he’d simply accepted his pending demise as fact. Then he’d been stabbed in the heart to save Thomas from the pain. Now he was starting to think crazy thoughts—for the first time, despite what the world thought of him. Thoughts of changing his future, even though he knew that would only make his death worse.

Was there something worse than being stabbed?

Yeah, and watching his friends die topped the list. A sobering reminder. He had work to do. “Have you figured out where the witch meeting is being held, Elijah?”

No.

“Caleb, you seem to like them when no one else does. Do you know where the meeting will be?” Aden was beginning to feel guilty he hadn’t done more.

Wish I did, buddy, but I’ve got nothing.

One day left, tomorrow, yet he’d made no progress. Six days had passed, and he’d learned nothing. Yeah, he’d been busy fighting goblin poison, meeting the vampires and dying. Twice. But when it came to the safety of his friends, there really was no excuse for his lack of results.

The door creaked open, and then Victoria was standing in the open entry, wearing a pink tank top and a blue miniskirt. Her dark hair hung to her waist, glittery green ribbons woven into the strands. She’d never looked so human. Or so hot.

“I cooked you breakfast,” she said, grinning as she approached him. She kicked the door shut behind her, her hands occupied with a tray of food. “I’d never cooked before, but one of the blood-slaves helped me. I hope you like the results.” She sounded unsure, nervous.

His chest did that constricting thing. “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll love it.” And even if he didn’t, she’d never know.

Still grinning, she closed the rest of the distance and sat at the edge of the bed, balancing the tray in his lap. “I hate to rush you, but you’re expected below. I wasn’t able to keep your location secret—everyone sensed you, and since you’re here, the councilmen would like you to preside over their morning meeting.”

The scent of pancakes, sausage and syrup wafted to his nose, and his mouth watered. “We don’t have time for a council meeting.” Not that he planned to go to school. Was this even a weekday? He couldn’t remember. Still. They had to get some answers out of their witch. They’d run out of time.

“It will only last an hour, and it’ll be better if you attend. They decided not to punish me for breaking the rules and seeing you, since they were desperate to speak with you. If you don’t, you’ll be hounded or even followed. If you do, we can leave without incident afterward.”

A worthy reward. “What will be expected of me?” He took a bite of the pancakes and lost his train of thought. They were oversalted and raw in the middle, but he didn’t allow himself to cringe. He chewed and he swallowed.

“Well?” she asked hesitantly.

“Delicious,” he said, and smiled.

Her own smile bloomed. “I’m glad. So what do you think of my outfit?” She stood and twirled. “I borrowed everything from Stephanie.”

“You look amazing.” And she did.

Her grin widened as she reclaimed her seat beside him, her hip pressed against his. All that heat and softness…“Are you nervous?” he asked, his voice huskier than he’d intended. “About the meeting?”

She didn’t have to ask which meeting he meant. They weren’t discussing the council any longer. She nodded. “A little while ago, Riley told me that he went into town last night, and there were no witches. None. If they left Crossroads, that means they left us here to die.”

Aden pursed his lips and thought back to when the witches had surrounded him, Victoria, Riley and Mary Ann in the forest.

“We will call a meeting in one week’s time,” one of them had said, “when our elders arrive. You will attend that meeting, human. If you fail to do so, the people in this circle will die. Doubt me not.”

“Only I have to attend,” he said after swallowing a bite of the runny eggs. “But they were waiting until their elders arrived. The witch we captured told us that the elders were due to arrive any day. Maybe they’re finally here.” His eyes widened. “Maybe…maybe we don’t have to look for them. Maybe they’ll find me.”

“That is my hope, though I will destroy them if they even scratch you. But we cannot rest our hopes on that. If we are wrong…”

Everyone he loved would die. His hopes sank. What could he do, then? How could he gain the information he sought? As he cleaned his plate, making sure to moan and grunt a few times as if he were consuming heaven itself, the souls tossed ideas around.

Mostly, they contemplated possessing the body of the captured witch, walking her into town and shouting until one of her friends appeared. Not bad, but that might just get Aden thrown into jail for disturbing the public or something like that.

The possessing thing, though… That might actually work.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said, resolute. “When I finish with your people, I need you to take me to our witch. I’ll possess her, and try and travel back through her life, to last week and the following days, to see if she ever spoke to anyone about us.”

Victoria’s electric blues widened. “That’s brilliant!”

“Thank you.” He only prayed he didn’t encounter static like he had with the nonhuman doctor.

Wait. What? Static? When had he been inside Dr. Hennessy’s head?

“Before you face off with the witch, you need to be warded,” Victoria said, pulling him from his thoughts. “And perhaps I’ll add extra wards to my body, too. I think I told you that my beast has been snarling for release more than usual lately. Ever since our kiss in that car…” She shivered, then shuddered. “I can barely stand the roars in my head—and the fear that comes with them. What if he gets out? Solidifies? What if he attacks you, like he seems to want?”

“I don’t think he will,” Aden said. “Attack, I mean.” He couldn’t know for sure until he actually faced the beast. He just remembered the way the thing had reached for him, as if to caress rather than rip apart. He could be wrong. He certainly had been before. “Let’s worry about that later, okay?”

“You’re right. Come. I’ll take you to the meeting, and while you’re in session, I’ll gather the supplies we will need for the wards.”

ADEN AND THE COUNCILMEN sat in a room of black. Black walls, black metal table, black chairs, domed black ceiling with a chandelier dripping with black crystals. The only decoration to be found was those strange symbols. The wards. They covered every flat surface in the chamber.

All eyes were focused on him, and some of those eyes were glued to the pulse hammering away in his neck. Some of the vamps even licked their lips. He was almost afraid they’d demand a snack, and his blood would be the only food available.

Un-com-fort-able, Caleb sang.

Maybe, I don’t know, do something, Julian said.

Elijah sighed. I want to leave. I don’t like this.

Aden cleared his throat.

Several of the men shook their heads and found their wits.

“We have much to cover today, so let’s get started. First order of business,” one of them said. Aden was having a hard time telling them part, and for the life of him, he couldn’t recall their names. “Many challenges have been issued.”

“Challenges?” Aden asked.

With the question, an entire conversation took place around him, as if he weren’t even there.

“Several of our elite wish to challenge you for control of the crown.”

“I’m only surprised they didn’t cut the boy’s throat while he slept.”

“They feel there’s no need for subterfuge, that he’s too weak to handle them. They’ll learn otherwise, of course.”

“Anyone strong enough to kill the man who killed Vlad deserves our respect. But I think their refusal to launch a sneak attack is based more on their desire to have the entire congregation witness the new king’s defeat. Such confidence is foolish, I think, and they deserve what they get.”

“And don’t forget the wolves. The elite wanted to act honorably so they wouldn’t anger the wolves.”

Nice, but Aden couldn’t worry about any of that now. “Hello, everyone. Have you noticed my presence? I’m here, and I’d appreciate it if you spoke to me rather than about me.” When they nodded, shamed, he added, “Thank you. Now, I’m happy to address your concerns.”

“We are on your side, Majesty.”

“And I’m grateful. Please tell my detractors that I accept their challenge. Later. We’ll set dates for…two weeks from now?” Hopefully by then, the witches would be taken care of and he’d have already picked out his replacement, so the challengers could fight themselves.

The thought brought a tide of anger. A replacement? Hell, no.

He shoved the silly emotion—and the thought—aside.

What are you doing? Elijah demanded.

Caleb gasped. You’re actually going to fight them?

“Excellent. We did not doubt, not for a single moment, that you would take your duties seriously.” All of the councilmen nodded, and one of them banged a gavel—a black gavel, of course—over the tabletop. “Next order.”

“The use of colors,” someone said with obvious displeasure. “There have been complaints.”

“Why did you authorize the incorporation of such…human colors? Not that I wish to question your judgment, but we have traditions, you see.”

The councilmen’s eyes flew to him. They looked so serious, so grave. “I’m human,” he reminded them.

A murmur of “as if we could forget” arose.

“Perhaps, if we limited the use of color to personal bedchambers…”

“And clothing,” Aden said, a picture of Victoria in her pink tank top rising in his mind.

There was a sigh, a few nods.

“Agreed,” the one with the gavel said, and then added, “done,” and then he tapped that gavel over the tabletop. “Next order. The dating.”

Another murmur arose, only this time, Aden couldn’t make out the words. Victoria hadn’t exaggerated. As quickly as this meeting was moving, it wouldn’t last more than an hour.

Then he heard the words “Your chosen,” and stiffened.

“You haven’t given the girls a sufficient chance, Majesty, yet you shared a bedroom with Princess Victoria last night.”

“I don’t need to give the others a chance.” Aden gripped the edge of the table. “I know what I want. Know who I want. I’ve made that clear from the beginning.”

“Why can’t you simply wed them all?” someone suggested. “Vlad had many wives.”

The man makes a good point, Ad, Caleb said. You should consider—

I want to slap you, Julian muttered.

Boys, Elijah interjected. Let Aden answer the guy.

The answer was simple. Because one, Aden didn’t want the other girls and two, Victoria would go crazy. While some Neanderthal part of him still liked the thought of her jealousy, he wouldn’t put her through that. “I’m not Vlad,” he ended up saying. “I desire only one.”

You’re ruining everything! Caleb sulked.

“Besides, Victoria and I aren’t getting married.” Yet. “We’re too young.”

Another murmur. This time, he had no trouble discerning what was being said.

Difficult. Stubborn. And yet, even while calling him names, they somehow remained respectful.

He could do no less in return. “Besides, I can’t have vampires coming to the ranch where I live. My friends will discover the truth, and I don’t think you want that. You’ve gone to great lengths to keep what you are hidden.”

“We can kill your friends, then.” Simple. Easy.

“No!” he shouted, forgetting all about respect. “There will be no killing, and that isn’t negotiable.”

More sighs. “Why don’t we propose a bargain, yes? You will see the females we have chosen for you, at least once, but you will do so only while here at the mansion?”

“This may not be an issue, anyway, with the upcoming challenges,” he pointed out, trying to buy some time. “True.”

“Still, Majesty. We need to offer the people hope for a future alliance.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face. God, he wanted to fight them on this, but the sooner he got out of this meeting, the sooner he could scour the witch’s brain. “Deal,” he said. “I’ll date the girls here. Once each.”

“Done.” The gavel descended. Boom. “Next order.”

They spoke of a feud over a blood-slave, and Aden had to decide who won the rights to said blood-slave. They spoke of some vampires wishing to travel back to Romania, and Aden had to decide if that was acceptable. They spoke of an upcoming peace talk with another faction of vampires. Vampires led by someone they called Bloody Mary. Aden recognized the name from his history books, but wasn’t sure that was who they meant. Could be her, but he didn’t want to ask and reveal his ignorance.

He was supposed to travel to England for this meeting. Apparently, Bloody Mary and her crew could feel the pull of him, too, though they hadn’t traveled to Oklahoma to find the source, for whatever reason. They were curious about him, however, enough to reach out to Vlad’s council for information.

“Could be an ambush,” one of the councilmen said.

“Or another attempt to control our people.”

So. On top of being enemies with nearly every other race, the vampires were also at war with each other. Sweet.

“We’ll protect him. Or rather, the wolves will. They are behind him one hundred percent.” There was a bit of displeasure in this councilman’s tone. “We’re having trouble keeping our teeth off him. There’s no way Bloody Mary will be able to do so. She’s a savage!”

“Guys,” he said, interrupting their debate. “I have school. I can’t leave until summer, anyway, so we’ll discuss a trip to England then.”

“You could drop out of school. We have tutors, after all,” one said.

“Nope. Sorry.” Not even they could talk him into abandoning Crossroads High. And how was he supposed to pack up and go to another country when even sneaking here was a problem? And really, he’d had several recent encounters with so-called tutors. Look how well those had turned out. “Summer or never.” And if he decided to go, he was taking Victoria and Riley with him.

Or maybe not Riley. Many Ann would be upset about losing her boyfriend, even for a short period of time, and Aden hated the thought of upsetting her.

More murmurs resounded, but one by one, the councilmen nodded.

Next order. Many of their blood-slaves were missing. No one knew where they were. Vamps were angry and hungry and demanding new slaves. To obtain them, they needed Aden’s permission.

“For right now, they can feed, but they cannot kill. They can feed, but they cannot enslave.” Because of Victoria, he knew that if they drank from a human only once—or twice—that human could walk away without becoming addicted to the vampire bite, as he had. More than that was iffy.

Though the councilmen were disappointed, they called the next order of business. Aden’s supernatural pull, or “hum.” As they spoke about how strongly they were drawn to him, more and more of their gazes swung to Aden’s neck and stayed. He had to stop the humming nonsense, they said, over and over again, as if they were locked on the words and couldn’t move past them. Maybe they were entranced.

“I can’t stop,” he replied, shifting nervously.

The souls grew restless in his mind, as nervous as he was. Especially Elijah. The psychic began muttering about “blood” and “death,” and those mutterings were somehow familiar. As if Aden had heard them before. Where? When?

“The pull is stronger the longer we’re with him, isn’t it?” someone asked.

“Yes. Or maybe it’s because we’re so hungry.”

“What do you think he’ll taste like?”

“Nirvana.”

Finally, there was silence. Absolute, utter silence. Was the meeting over? Aden looked around. All eyes were on him again, piercing, narrowed. Then the silence was broken as lips were licked and breath emerged from flaring nostrils. A few of the councilmen had their nails embedded in the tabletop, as if trying to hold themselves back.

They wanted to devour him, but they were fighting the urge.

What should he do? Stand and run? Or just stay here, like this, until they got themselves under control. If they could. Should he shout for Victoria? No, he didn’t want her in the line of fire, just in case. Besides, he had to learn how to deal with these people if he was going to lead them.

Not that thought again. He wasn’t going to lead them.

Slowly, Aden pushed to his feet. The councilmen rose with him, their gazes never leaving him. Do not show fear. “I have a lot to do,” he said. “I’ll leave you now.”

No reply.

He stepped around his chair, never turning his back to the vampires. One step, two, he moved away from them. Slow, easy, as if he hadn’t a care. But they were predators, and he was their prey, and with his retreat, they lost control.

With a cry, the closest man launched himself at Aden—and that was all the permission the others needed to follow suit. They flew at him, teeth bared.