Gena Showalter - Intertwined 02 (11 page)

The otherworld, or whatever it was called, had fully
descended on Crossroads, it seemed. And the humans were loving it, even though they had no idea what was truly going on. But…

Witches, witches, where were the witches?

“With witches, you must be careful,” Victoria had once told her. “They can smile while cursing you.”

They could also cloak themselves in magic so that anyone who looked at them would see only an Average Jane, easily forgettable.

“You have to train your eyes to see below the surface,” Riley had explained.

Mary Ann found that she couldn't see below the surface, past the magical mask. Five minutes later, she realized she didn't need to. She saw a figure she recognized and gasped.

“What?” Penny demanded.

“Nothing, nothing.” A lie without guilt. “This is just weird, that's all.” Truth.

“I know. Totally weird.”

One of the witches who had issued the death curse stood under a streetlamp, golden light flooding her. Long blond hair curled over a shoulder, vivid against the darkness of her coat. A breeze had kicked up, blowing the hood of that coat back to reveal her lovely, familiar face. She hadn't worn a mask before, and she wasn't wearing one now, her dark eyes watching the surrounding chaos with disdain.

“Have you ever seen that girl?” she asked Penny, pointing.

“Pretty, but no. Have you?”

“Maybe,” she hedged. Full disclosure wasn't an option. First, Mary Ann needed to gain Riley and Victoria's permission. Otherwise, they might want to kill her friend to keep her from talking. Although, really. The secret was pretty much out. How could it not be? Mr. Klien, her stodgy chemistry teacher, was flirting with a scantily clad woman whose body was covered in odd tattoos.

“Can I be honest with you?” Penny asked suddenly.

“Please.”
Just don't expect the same from me
.

“This is creeping me out. But should we, I don't know, join them? Act like cute little detectives and find out what's going on?”

“No!”

“Okay, okay. Bad suggestion.” Penny rubbed her slightly rounded belly. “They just look like they're having so much fun, and I feel like I've been without fun
forever
.” Her tone was wistful. “So what's the plan? Just sit here and watch them?”

“Yep. When the police arrive to arrest everyone in the vicinity for indecent exposure,” she said, thinking fast, “we'll have a better chance of getting away if we're in the car.”

“Uh, Mary Ann? I hate to disappoint you, but the
police are already here. See the potbellied man twirling his shirt in the air? That's Officer Swanson.”

“We're still staying here.” Bottom line, she wasn't going to put her friend in danger. The creatures seemed to be behaving themselves, not hurting anyone, but that could change in a blink. And what if someone sensed the baby Penny carried had a demon father? What then? Would they want to spill Penny's blood? Would they want to destroy the baby?

She shuddered. One thing she knew: different “mythological” species were at war. Like vampires and fairies. And she had no idea which species liked demons and which didn't.

“Fine. We'll solve the mystery from here,” Penny said, unable to hide her disappointment. “Detective Hot Pants reporting for duty.”

“Good. Welcome to the team.” Kind of.

Except, only a few minutes later, Penny grumbled, “This sucks. I'm officially bored. They're still having fun, and we're still sitting here watching.”

“Sorry. Five minutes, and then we'll head home. I promise.” So far, she'd learned nothing new.

Crap! Did the witch come here every night? Was there a party every night? If so, she'd have to nab the woman in front of a thousand potential witnesses.

So what was the best way to abduct someone from this crowded a place? she wondered. The answers slid into
place as easily as if she'd been a criminal her entire life. First order of business would be noise control. A scream would draw all kinds of notice.

Second order of business would be carrying the resistant or unconscious body through the masses. Again, without drawing all kinds of notice. Third order would be storing their cargo after the kidnapping.

As her mind pondered the options and subsequent consequences, a stream of something warm rushed through Mary Ann. Her skin tingled, and her stomach growled. In seconds, that “something” soothed her, intensifying the tingle yet chasing the growl away, and she savored the sensations, wanting more, needing more, warm, so warm. Frowning, she pulled herself from her thoughts. What the—

The witch was striding toward Penny's car, she realized, her steps intent.

“Go,” she shouted, slapping the dashboard. “Go now!”

“What? Why?”

“Move!”

Penny threw the car in Reverse and stepped on the gas. Tires screeched. Gravel sprayed. The car snaked a corner, and Mary Ann thudded against her window. They straightened out, speeding down the road, the crowded square soon becoming a distant speck in the rearview mirror.

Only problem? Two wolves were now running alongside them—and neither was Riley. One had white fur, like snow, and the other brown and red. Friends? Enemies? There was no time to reason it out. The farther down the road they went, the farther away the wolves edged from the car. Finally, Mary Ann couldn't see them at all.

“Okay. What was that about?” Penny demanded, out of breath though they'd done nothing physical.

“I—I don't know,” she lied. Damn it! Had she blown everything? Probably. Now the witches knew she'd been there, watching. What was the chance the witch would return tomorrow?

She sighed, trying not to despair. Guess she'd find out. After she told Riley, Aden and Victoria what she'd done and they lectured her for her stupidity, of course.

Penny was right. This sucked.

W
ITH HER HEAD HELD HIGH
, Victoria led Aden down a long—
long
—line of richly dressed vampires. He saw black velvet robes draping the females, jewels of every color sewn into the fabric, and silk shirts and pants on the men. There was a sweet perfume coating the air, a scent that thickened as he made his way up a dais, where a throne of the deepest ebony rested. A scent that thankfully canceled out his perfume.

Weird symbols were etched over every inch of the throne, symbols that seemed to hum with power, enveloping him as he sat, then holding him in place as if manacles encircled his wrists and ankles.

Victoria placed herself at his right and Riley his left, and the line started moving forward. Introduction after introduction was made. Male, female, young, old. Too many names and faces to remember, especially in his current, foggy condition.

Some regarded him hopefully, some with disdain.
Some looked past him to the large tapestry that hung along the wall. He didn't have to turn to know what image was woven there; it was burned into his mind forever. In it, Vlad the Impaler viciously fought an angry, determined mob. They had pitchforks; he had a bloody sword. At his sides were countless pikes—each with a human head perched at the top. Was that what these vampires would expect from Aden?

Most likely. He should care, he thought. Just then, he cared about nothing.

As the introductions continued, he found himself tuning out the voices and studying his surroundings. Even without Elijah, Julian and Caleb tossing out their opinions about
everything
every few seconds, Aden was still distracted, unable to concentrate. A long red carpet stretched from the dais to the front double doors. The same swirling symbols that decorated the throne also decorated the carpet.

There were no lamps present, only elaborate candela-bras that produced flickering golden flames and ribbons of black smoke. On each side of the room were, strangely enough, stone steps—or bleachers—broken only by the four round columns stretching to the domed ceiling. They led to a platform where uniformed guards stood, swords strapped to their sides.

Humans sat on the steps. He knew they were humans because their skin ranged in color, from slightly tanned
to darkest of mocha. Plus, their facial features lacked the perfection of the vampires. They, too, wore robes, though theirs were bereft of both jewels and sleeves. Easier access to their pulse points that way, Aden supposed. And he didn't have to ask them if they wanted to be here. They were watching the vamps with unabashed longing in their eyes.

Blood-slaves, he thought then. Victoria had once told him that humans quickly became addicted to a vampire's bite. Aden hadn't believed her at the time. He believed her now. Since then, she'd bitten him twice and each time had been…heaven. Her teeth produced some sort of chemical or drug that numbed a human's skin, then sweetly burned their blood.

“And finally,” Victoria said from beside him, returning his thoughts to the present, “I'm pleased to introduce you to my sisters.”

They'd reached the end of the line already? How long had he been casing the room?

“The first,” she continued, “is the Princess Stephanie.”

A beautiful blonde stepped forward and inclined her head in greeting. Like the others, she wore a robe. Until she reached up and pushed the material from her shoulders, and the thing whooshed to the floor, pooling at her feet. She lifted her chin, practically daring him to object. At least she'd had clothing on underneath the
robe.
Now
she wore a black T-shirt with a jewel-studded rainbow in the center—the makeup on her face matched perfectly—as well as black jeans and bright red boots that hit her knees.

When he said nothing about her wardrobe switch, she relaxed.

As she chewed her gum, her green gaze roved over him. “Cute,” she announced. “And oh, baby doll, you
do
give off a powerful vibe, don't you? Makes me want to touch you.”

With your teeth, I'd bet
. “Uh, thank you,” he said. Everyone else had said only “My king” or nothing at all. Well, the ones he remembered. “Please don't be offended, but I'm asking that you…not.”

She grinned, as noncommittal as possible. “So you're the one who defeated Dmitri, huh?”

“Looks like.” While fists had pounded and blades had slashed, he hadn't known this was what awaited him if he succeeded. If he had… No, he thought then. No matter what, he would have done what he'd done. His instincts had taken over, and he'd wanted only to eliminate the person who had hoped to eliminate Riley and Mary Ann. And okay, fine, he'd also wanted to destroy the guy who planned to marry Victoria.

Stephanie arched a brow. “So how do you expect to rule us, human boy?”

Human boy. He shrugged; he'd been called worse. “I honestly don't know.”

She offered him another grin. “Honesty. I like that. It's different.”

Vlad had lied to his daughters? About what?

“So, listen,” she said. “I'd really love to…toast your victory. What do you say we—”

Victoria stiffened, even grabbed his arms in a protective gesture. Riley, who stood at his other side, merely chuckled.

“We do not drink from our king,” Victoria said stiffly.

What? She'd planned to toast his victory by using his neck as a juice box?

Stephanie tossed up her arms. “Ever?”

“Correct,” Riley said.

Scarlet lips turned down, the lower one sticking slightly out. Her shoulders sagged. “Fine, then, but I have other questions for our future king. Like—”

“Now isn't the time for that, and you know it,” Riley interjected gently. “Later, princess.”

A moment passed in silence. Then another, “Fine. But I
will
ask my questions soon. They're
important
.”

Riley didn't back down. “I'm sure they are. As for now, goodbye.”

In a huff, Stephanie picked up her discarded robe,
swung around and stomped out of the room. A door slammed.

Only one person remained in the line. The other sister, he thought, her delicate face somehow familiar to him.

Victoria motioned her forward. “This is the Princess Lauren.”

The cool blonde with the crystal eyes inclined her head in greeting. Like Stephanie, she had ditched the traditional robe. Unlike Stephanie, she wore a skintight black leather half top and matching pants. She had real barbed wire wrapped around her wrists and weapons strapped all over her body.

“So you are Aden Stone, the human I've heard so much about. I admit there's a draw to you, as Stephanie said, but you're nothing like my father.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you.”

“That wasn't a compliment, you idiot!”

He shrugged. She said tomato; he said suck it.

Her eyes narrowed. “Like my little sister, I have questions, human. Unlike my sister, I expect, no, I demand answers this night.”

“King,” Riley snapped at her. “‘My king.' That's how you will address him from this moment on.”

Her chin rose, though she never removed her attention
from Aden. “In thirteen days, I'll call him king. Until then…”

For a moment, Aden thought she might be considering unsheathing one of her blades and tossing it at his heart, and a cold sweat broke out over his skin. Not a stabbing. Not again.

But she remained in place and said, “Besides, I haven't decided to follow him.”

Riley descended the dais to stand just in front of her, nose-to-nose. “Is that a challenge?”

Above, the guards with the swords appeared ready to pounce. On Aden, Riley or Lauren, he wasn't sure. “Enough,” Aden said, not knowing what else to do.
I am not king. I don't want to be king
. But something had to be done. “We'll argue about this later. As for now, glad as I am to meet a member of Victoria's family, the introductions are over. You may go.” Did that sound kingly enough?

Surprisingly, yes. With a stiff nod and murderous glare, Lauren spun on her heel and stalked from the chamber. Once again, the door slammed shut. He noticed the humans were gone, too. He'd never heard them leave, but they'd somehow silently melted away.

“What now?” he asked, standing. Dizziness swept through him, and he had to grip the throne arm to remain upright. Just how long had he been sitting down?

“There's a reception in your honor.” Victoria smoothed the hair from his brow, the caress gentle, warm. “Are you all right?”

No. Yes. Maybe. “What time is it?”

“Almost three.”

He'd been here for four hours, then. And in three more hours, he would have to “wake up” to get ready for school. “I have to return to the ranch soon. We've got school tomorrow, and I can't miss again.” He knew she could fix things with her voice, making everyone think he was there when he wasn't, but he wanted to go. He'd had to fight to be able to attend, and he wasn't going to waste the opportunity to learn, to better himself.

Yeah, he'd probably sleep through every class, because even now, he fought a yawn, but he'd still go. Maybe the lessons would sink into his subconscious.

“Just a little while longer, then I'll take you home.” Her palms flattened on his shoulders before sliding around to cup the back of his neck. She pressed herself against him. “I promise.”

Did she plan to kiss him? They'd kissed before, but only gently, and not for nearly long enough. He'd wanted more then and despite his condition, he knew he'd want more now. He'd want her tongue, her taste and her teeth.

A minute ticked by, then another, but she merely held
him. He tried not to wallow in disappointment. At least he cared about something now, he mused.

“This whole place is a stereotype, you know that?” he said in an attempt to distract himself. “All this black. The robes. The creep factor.”

“Father loved stereotypes. Loved playing to them.”

Her father. There was something Aden should know about the man, he thought, something he needed to tell her…but again, he could think of nothing. “Why did he love playing to them?”

One of her shoulders lifted in a delicate shrug. “People who encounter us think we're merely humans pretending to be vampires. We're considered weird, but we aren't considered a threat.”

He understood. Weirdos were avoided, left alone. Threats were hunted, eliminated.

“The same could be said of you right now, Aden Stone.” Amusement layered her tone. “My people consider you weird rather than a threat.”

“And how do you know that?”

“No one tried to kill you.”

“True,” he said with a smile.

“And I'm proud of you, you know,” she said huskily, gaze dropping to his lips, then his neck.

Was she thirsty? Please…

Riley coughed.

They ignored him.

Praise had always been a rare commodity in Aden's life, and he soaked hers up. In the institutions, the doctors had merely questioned him and the other patients had been wrapped up in their own problems. In foster homes, neither the well-meaning nor the uncaring parents had known how to deal with him, had even feared him. At the ranch, the other kids had ridiculed him at first.

“You're not embarrassed that I'm a weak human?” he asked her. Because he knew, even if she wouldn't admit it, that that's how her people saw him. Would probably always see him.

She countered with a question of her own. “You're not embarrassed that I'm a bloodthirsty fiend?” Even as she spoke, her gaze returned to the pulse at the base of his neck, which was hammering wildly. She licked her lips.

“Is my fiend thirsty now?”

“No,” she croaked, arms falling away. She stepped backward, adding distance between them.

“Liar,” he said, but didn't push. She refused to drink from him because she didn't want to turn him into a blood-slave. He understood, but he hated the thought of her beautiful mouth on anyone else.

They wouldn't argue about it now, though. No time.

“Come.” Determined, she held out her hand. “The party is waiting.”

He twined their fingers and allowed her to usher him down the carpet, Riley trailing a few steps behind. The closer they got to the doors, the more noise Aden heard beyond them. But when they passed the thick metal arches, he realized there was no one in the hallway. There were only alabaster statues of people and animals and intricately carved chests, all open and empty. What were they for, then?

Beyond another set of doorways, however, was a ballroom brimming with vampires, their werewolf guards and humans. The vampires talked and laughed, the wolves, in animal form, prowled throughout, and the humans were again on the fringes, eagerly awaiting a summons.

The cobbled walls were black, the monotony broken by long, oval mirrors, and again, the only light source was the golden glow of candles. Above, the ceiling looked like a… He frowned. Sure enough. A cobweb. In the center of the web hung a chandelier. And that chandelier had legs that stretched up, as if a spider walked along the ceiling.

Someone spotted him, and conversations halted, the sudden silence interrupting his ogling. All heads turned to him. Aden shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Several minutes—an eternity—ticked by just like
that. No one moving or speaking, just watching him, judging.

Should he do something? Say something?

They'd only ever been ruled by Vlad, he reminded himself. They were as clueless about this as he was. Not that he planned to rule them. He
would
figure a way out of this. Soon.

“Is he ready to see? To know?” someone muttered. Conversations started back up, the volume quickly rising. He thought he heard words like
beast
—maybe
feast
—and
horde.
Maybe
bored.