Gena Showalter - Intertwined 02 (22 page)

A spike of dizziness caused his heart to speed up. He continued. Soft music had played, was playing even now. The ceiling had blurred. Darkness had swallowed him whole.

Aden's skin tingled, the dizziness spreading, strengthening, and suddenly he was falling, whisking through a never-ending pit, arms flailing for some kind of anchor.
This was it.
He was doing it, traveling back. In control.

When he stilled, when the dizziness subsided, he slowly cracked open his eyelids. Yet still he saw only…static? There was no office, no desk, no lounge. At the very least, he should have seen himself lying down.

He frowned. He closed his eyes, shook his head, then looked again. Once again, he saw only a void of static, as if the cable had been unhooked from the TV.

What's happening?
Julian asked, and he sounded scared.

I see nothing, like when Mary Ann is with you
. Caleb's voice trembled.

I have a bad feeling about this,
Elijah said gravely.
Something's wrong here
.

“I know.” But what? His hands fisted, the answer eluding him. He couldn't picture another scene, because he didn't know any other details about Dr. Hennessy's life. And there were no photos in the room, so he couldn't study them and use them as a guide.

Not knowing what else to do, he willed himself back to the present. As the darkness faded, he began to see the office through Hennessy's eyes. Nothing had changed. He still sat at the desk, that handful of papers around him. Reeling, he could only watch the clock, waiting as time ticked away. When his session reached its limit, he walked Hennessy back to his chair and sat him down. Then Aden pulled himself from the body, returning to solid form, and dropped back onto the lounge. Waiting. Dreading.

There was a moment of suspended silence.

Hennessy would know only that time had elapsed. He wouldn't know what had happened during those missing minutes.

“Time's up,” Aden gritted out.

“Well, we were certainly productive today, weren't we?” the doctor said, unemotional as always. His clothes rustled as he stood. Soft footsteps sounded, and then
Hennessy was in front of him, peering down at him, hands fisted at his waist. “Before you leave, I need to issue a word of warning. If you ever again invade my mind and body, I'll cut the souls out of you, one by one. Are we clear?”

Aden and the souls didn't have time to panic. Their entire world fell back into that black, black sea.

I
N THE MIDDLE OF THE WOODS
, with trees stretching all around, the quickly dimming sun, a cold wind slithering past every few seconds, Mary Ann stood in the midst of pure testosterone. Riley and his brothers formed a triangle, each at a point before and beside her. They'd arrived right on time, at her two-hour limit, and had escorted her here. Away from civilization.

She'd spent every minute of those two hours trying to research Drainers, magic powers—again—and all kinds of other paranormal stuff. Two hours that now seemed wasted. She'd learned nothing.

Hopefully, that would change now that she was with the wolves. Not that they were informative, or even helpful. Once again, they'd walked beside her, silent.

Now she studied them, searching for a weakness. One word described them all:
gorgeous.
Nathan was all white, from his hair to his skin, with eyes so pale a blue they were almost eerie. But like Riley, he was tall and leanly
muscled, with a hard expression that said,
I'll do anything, yeah, even stab you
. Maxwell was tanner…a golden variation of him.

They were warriors, definitely, who looked like they ate glass shards for breakfast and anyone who got in their way for dessert.

“So we're not hunting witches?” she asked. At this point, any other activity seemed extraneous and unnecessary. She'd thought Riley understood that, which was why she'd been so surprised to see his brothers. Had he told them what she was—or rather, what she might be? He still hadn't accepted the truth.

“Hunting?” Finally, something from one of the brothers. Nathan's voice was low and husky, like a shiver over her skin.

“We're teaching you how to defend yourself,” Riley said. “Hunting can wait.”

“And let me state again that I think this is stupid,” Nathan added.

“She's human.” Maxwell, the other brother, had a much harder, more determined voice. “She's also fragile as hell. We're…not.”

“Just do it,” Riley snarled at them.

Mary Ann would have cringed at his tone, but it wasn't directed at her, so she took heart. Besides, he'd never looked sexier. He wore all black, and there were cuts
along his forearms, as if he'd recently fought something with claws.

Her knees were actually weak at the thought; she wanted to throw her arms around him and hold on forever, basking in his strength.
You're broken up, remember?

Don't cry
.

Nathan shook his head. “She's yours, Ry, and we know how you are. If we bruise her…”

“I'll behave.” Another snarl from Riley. “Just don't scratch or bite her.”

She noticed that he didn't disabuse them of their “she's yours” notion. Well, she wouldn't either. Right now she felt a little too much like the cheese in a mousetrap.

“You're right. Learning to fight is important,” she began. “But right now there are even more important—”

“No,” Riley said, cutting her off without looking at her, “there aren't. Teach her how to defend herself against wolves and vampires. Everything you can in the next two hours, then she and I will be on our way.”

Mary Ann gulped as realization set in. Even before saving her from the death spell, he wanted her to know how to defend herself against wolves and vamps. Which meant he thought they would figure out she was a Drainer very soon. Which meant he thought they
would try to kill her. Painfully. He wanted her prepared, able to defend herself.

Would they later punish him for that?

A tremor swept through her, and those tears she'd fought against burned her eyes. She'd made the right decision, ending things. She would not hurt him. Ever. Even accidentally. Even after she…died.

Look what he'd done—was doing—to protect her right now. He deserved better than she could give him.

“Fine.” Maxwell sighed.

“Sure. Why not?” Nathan shrugged.

Such enthusiasm. Didn't matter, though. She would listen and she would learn. She would never have another chance like this one.

“You're—you're not going to help them?” she asked Riley, blushing at her stutter.

His gaze didn't flick to her, but remained on his brothers as he gave a stiff shake of his head. She remembered what she'd once told him, that if he taught her how to fight, he'd have to put his hands on her, and if he put his hands on her, she would want to kiss him, not learn from him. Did
he
remember? Did he not want her lips on his?

Oh, God. She wanted him to want her, wanted to keep him.
Don't you dare cry
.

How many times would she have to issue the command to herself?

“Do it,” he said, backing away from the group. He stopped at a tree, pressing his back into the wide trunk, and folded his arms over his middle. His expression was dark, stormy.

“Do not interfere,” Maxwell told him with a finger pointed at his chest.

Nathan snorted. “Like he'll obey you. He always does what he wants. You know that.”

She nodded in agreement, and both brothers focused on her. Uh-oh. All that intensity…closing in on her, one in front and one behind. Why had she agreed to this, again?

“You ready, little girl?”

“You gonna sob like a baby if we get a little rough?”

Both were taunting her, and at first, her hackles rose. Then she remembered what Aden had told her. When fighting, emotions could ruin you. They made you dumb, kept you distracted. You had to remain distanced. You had to do whatever was needed to survive.

I feel nothing
. Except nervous. Argh! She raised her chin, pretending, at least, to be calm. “I won't cry if you don't.”

Surprise flickered in both their eyes, and Maxwell even looked like he was fighting a grin.

“Spirit,” he said. “Let's see how quickly we can crush it.”

In a snap, they were on her, tossing her to the ground like a doll, their now sharp, long teeth near her neck. She was too shocked—and terrified—to move or even block them. They'd swarmed her so quickly, her gaze had failed to track them.

Slowly, they backed away from her, standing over her and peering down. Something to note: they hadn't chewed her face off.

“We've got our work cut out for us,” Nathan grumbled, and offered her a hand to help her up.

Her knees almost gave out when she tried to balance her weight.

“Vamps and wolves are faster than any human you can imagine,” Maxwell told her. “Clearly, you're much slower.”

“Yeah, uh, I just figured that out. Thanks.”

Both chuckled.

“Vamps want your blood, and while they don't have to dive for your neck to get it, that's what they prefer. It's harder for humans to push them away that way. Plus, it weakens the victim faster.”

“So basically, we're like cows to them,” she said dryly.

“Except, you kill cows. Vamps just drink and dis
card, their food still kicking when they're done.” Nathan shrugged. “For the most part.”

For the most part. Such a pleasant add-on. Mary Ann pressed her lips together as she recalled an exception to that “for the most part.” She'd watched several vampires torture and kill a boy named Ozzie. They'd splayed him out on a table—Tucker, too—and used him as an appetizer at their party, until the life drained out of him.

Either the wolves read her mind or her pinched expression gave her away. “Yeah, we heard about that,” Maxwell said. “Like humans, there are good and bad vampires. Good and bad wolves, too.”

“Speaking of, wolves don't feed on humans.” Nathan picked up the lesson, expanding it. “If a wolf is attacking you, that wolf just wants you dead. And a wolf's claws can ruin you in seconds, so your main goal when fighting a shifter is to avoid being slashed.”

“I never would have figured that out,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “So exactly how am I supposed to do that?”

“We'll show you. Just try and keep up.”

For every minute of Riley's allotted two hours, the boys worked with her. They tossed her down; they even threw her into trees. She lost her breath, nearly broke her wrist and definitely twisted her ankle, yet still she persisted. Still she made them keep coming at her.

They taught her many things. Mainly, she couldn't
hide from them. Their sense of smell was twenty times greater than a human's. Their hearing was forty times greater. Also, they liked it when she ran. She became a game, a prize, and their heart rate would quicken with the challenge, their need to conquer intensifying.

If wolves approached her while in a pack, she was to remember that they were territorial and very rigidly structured. There was always a leader. Always. That leader controlled the actions of the others. If she could defeat the leader, she could defeat the pack. Unless, of course, the leader told the pack to glom onto her.

Warning signs of an impending glomming: their hair would rise. They would bare their teeth and growl.

Every time Maxwell and Nathan demonstrated that, in human
and
wolf form, her fear ratcheted another notch. They scented that fear, and it upped their hunger level, increasing the odds against her. She would have to learn to control her physical reactions, to show no fear, as Aden had already told her.

How? It was possible to hide an expression. It wasn't possible to stop her heart from racing.

In the meantime, she now knew their noses were sensitive, more so than a human's, so if she could hit them on their noses, she could buy herself several precious seconds to find a weapon. A stick, a rock, anything would help.

If they managed to pounce and push her down while
she did so, she had to try and snap their necks with a firm twist of her wrists before they tore out her throat. Also, it was better to shove her hand into their mouths to keep their teeth busy with her fingers and wrist than to let them bite into her neck. Because if that happened, she was dead, no question. She could live without a hand.

If she was near water, she was to jump in. Wolves had a hard time fighting in water. They could do it, but it wasn't their preference. And if she was lucky, they would give up and move on at that point, eager for readier prey.

By the end, she was sweaty, dirty and yeah, bleeding, not to mention grateful for the darkened sky. The boys hadn't scratched her, per Riley's orders, but the rocks and bark had. A few times, from the corner of her eye, she'd seen Riley stalk toward her, but then he would catch himself and return to his post, watching.

Maxwell and Nathan, at least, were just as sweaty and dirty as she was.

“Good job, human.” Maxwell patted her on the shoulder, and she pitched forward. Laughing, Maxwell caught her and helped her straighten. “I expected you to beg for mercy after five minutes.”

With that, the two sauntered away, clothes flying behind them as they undressed, leaving her alone with Riley. Howls soon erupted.

“Meet us in town,” Riley called. “One hour.”

More howls.

Agreement?

“Come on,” Riley said to her now. “Time to leave the forest. Goblins are starting to emerge.”

Together, they raced to the car he had stashed at the edge of the forest and slipped inside. Soon her heart was pounding in tune to the car's revving engine. From all the exercise, yes, but also from being so close to her now-ex.
Don't cry
.

“Do your brothers know about me?” she asked, even though she knew the answer.

“No, and we won't tell them.”

“Won't they realize something's different about me if I lead us straight to a witch? I mean—”

Riley was shaking his head. “Believe me, I'll be taking credit for finding the witch.
If
we find one. So no worries. Right now we're going to the vampire mansion.”

“I should go home, shower and change first,” she said, very conscious of how she must look. Hobo central.

“Why? You'll just get dirty again.”

“At the mansion?”

“In town. That's where we're going after. To hunt, remember. If I don't hunt with you, you'll go alone. Believe me, I haven't forgotten your ultimatum.”

She wouldn't apologize for that. Her intentions were too pure.

“Anyway,” he said, not quite so grumpy, “you can't go home.”

True. Her dad was there, and he'd ask questions she wasn't prepared to answer and think things she didn't want him to think.
What have you been doing? Where have you been? Someone hurt you. Did they force you to do…things?
Then he'd get the police involved. No, thanks.

“So why are we going to the mansion?” she asked.

“I want to take you to Victoria and get some of her blood inside you.”

What? “Oh, no. No, no, no. I'm not drinking anyone's blood.” She shook her head for emphasis.

“It'll strengthen you, heal your injuries.”

In her seat, she swayed back and forth with the bump, bump of the tires. “It'll also force me to see the world through her eyes, and I have enough problems facing it through my own.”

“That'll only last a few hours.”

“Don't care. I'm not injured badly enough to justify it.”

His knuckles tightened on the wheel. Had she not been watching him so closely, she would have missed the telling reaction. “Yeah, but it just might slow down your new ability.”

Thanks for the reminder
. “Are you sure about that? Because maybe it'll speed the abilities up like the spell
did. Not that you're one hundred percent certain I'm a Drainer, remember?” she added in a rush.

He massaged the back of his neck. “Fine.” He maneuvered the car off the grass and onto a nearby dirt road, then turned around and headed in the opposite direction. “No blood.”

“Thank you.”

“Save your thanks. I know you want to break up with me, and that's coloring your reaction to my helpful suggestions, but you have to—”