Intertwined (19 page)

The pen flew over the notebook as the doctor made another notation. “Since you have control, do you ever force the voices to leave you?”

“Me force them? No. But sometimes they do leave.” Because of his daughter.

“And what happens to you when they’re gone?”

Aden smiled, though it was laced with guilt. “Peace.”

“Oh, Aden.” Dr. Gray placed a hand over his heart, expression softening. “That’s wonderful.”

Bet he feels like a proud papa.
Eve actually sounded softer, as though she was warming to the doctor.

That hadn’t happened last time. Which meant peace wasn’t something he’d admitted to last time. Of course not. Peace wasn’t something he’d known about back then. His smile faded. “I’m just kidding. They aren’t allowed to leave. They stay with me always.”

Dr. Gray rested his hand on the side of his face, the pen poking out between his fingers. “How can I help you if I have to wade through half-truths and lies?”

He glanced down at his feet, hoping he appeared properly shamed. “I won’t do it again.”

“See that you don’t. But why did you do it this time?”

He shrugged, no answer jumping out at him.

“All right. Well, why don’t you tell me why you let the voices return to you once they’re out? Because I know you were telling the truth about the voices leaving, not about it being a joke. You’re in control, remember?”

No way out of this one. He had to cop to the truth. At least some of it. “They’re bound to me like…” His head tilted to the side as he considered his next words. “Like pets on a leash. I
can’t
keep them out.”

That earned him an
Ouch
from Julian and an
I’ll make you pay for calling us pets. I hope you know that
from Caleb.

Oh, he knew he’d pay, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that. “See, they’re people, like you and me, only they weren’t given bodies of their own. They were somehow sucked into mine, forcing me to share my head with them.”

Dr. Gray took the admission in stride, surprisingly unfazed. “A few days ago, you mentioned that there are four different voices. Or rather, people. Still only four?”

“Yes.”

“And they are…” The doctor flipped a page in the notebook. “Your age? All of them?”

“No. I don’t know how old they are.”

“I see,” he muttered and Aden didn’t think he knew he’d spoken aloud. “Tell me about them. What they’re like.”

And while you’re at it
, Eve said,
ask about his daughter.

Soon. He didn’t want the doctor to have a reason to change the subject back to therapy again. “They’re nice. For the most part,” he added for their benefit.

That earned him several snorts and another threat from Caleb.

“And do they have names?” Dr. Gray asked.

Aden rattled them off.

His eyes lit with interest at the mention of Eve. “Eve is a female, I’m guessing.”

“Yeah. A girl.” There was enough disgust in his voice to make the doctor fight a grin.

Oh, hush,
Eve said.
You’re the luckiest boy on the planet, to have my guidance.

“I’m most curious about her,” the doctor said.

Of course he is,
Caleb said, clearly offended.
What am I, dog food? Why doesn’t he want to know about me?

“Aden. I lost you again.”

Aden jerked to attention, his head clearing, Caleb and Eve’s voices fading as he refocused. “I’m sorry. What?”

“I had asked you a question.” Frowning, the doctor eased back in his chair. “What was going on inside your head just then?”

“Nothing,” he hedged.

An eyebrow arched. “I thought you weren’t going to lie to me anymore.”

Aden rubbed his temples and considered his options. He could admit the truth, but at this rate, Dr. Gray would never stop questioning him and he’d never be able to steer the conversation back to Mary Ann. And what if he was whisked away before he even got the chance?

The thought of being whisked away was what finally propelled him into action.

Now or never
. “You’re most curious about Eve,” he said. “Well, she can time travel into younger versions of me. If you’d check my file, you’d see that I’ve disappeared a few times. From locked rooms. You’ll see I’ve reappeared in places I shouldn’t have been able to get inside of. The doctors treating me at the time claimed I was just a great lock picker, that I liked confusing people. The truth is, I traveled into a younger version of myself, like I said, and accidentally changed the future.”

Dr. Gray blinked at him. “I know I told you I wanted you
to open up, but I meant I wanted honesty. I believe I mentioned that, as well.”

“And that’s what I’m giving you. The ability I mentioned is how a sixteen-year-old boy is sitting in front of you now, rather than an eleven-year-old. It’s how a sixteen-year-old who knows your—”

“Aden. That’s enough.”

He gulped, but once again, he didn’t allow the doctor to deter him. “You didn’t let me finish. I’m really a sixteen-year-old boy who knows your daughter, Mary Ann. We—”

“Aden!” Dr. Gray pinched the bridge of his nose. “You have to stop this. It’s not helping your case.”

“Just listen to me.” What could he say to make this man believe him? “More than time travel, I can raise the dead. Take me to a cemetery and I’ll prove it. Just don’t bring Mary Ann. She negates my abilities. Corpses will rise. You’ll see.”

“For the last time, enough!” Dr. Gray was pale, blue veins throbbing under the surface of his skin. He cleared his throat in an effort to collect himself. “I shouldn’t have indulged your question about my daughter earlier. I won’t tolerate a patient, even a child, dragging my family into a session. Do you understand me?”

“If you won’t take me out of this building, fine. I can prove it another way.” The words left him in a desperate rush. “Mary Ann has a best friend named Penny. One day she will date a boy named Tucker.” Maybe telling the doctor about the future would change it as irrevocably as altering the past. But he was already on this path and couldn’t stop himself. “Tucker’s a
jerk, by the way, and you should put a stop to that before it ever starts. Or maybe she’s supposed to date him. I don’t know. She will—”

“Okay. I’ve had it. I want you to leave, Aden. Right now.” Dr. Gray pointed to the door. “Clearly you’ve been through my personal files. Clearly you’re trying to compare your life to hers. Well, it’s not going to work. I want you out of this office before I do something I’ll regret.”

Compare his life to whose? Mary Ann’s? Or someone else’s? Someone equally close to the doctor? “I don’t understand. Who are you talking about?”

“I told you to go.”

Aden pushed to his feet. His legs were shaky, but he didn’t tumble back into his seat. “Tell me who you meant and I will. You’ll never have to meet with me again.” Well, not here. “Please.”

Before the doctor could reply, Aden’s mind began fading to black. No. No, no, no. He wasn’t ready, had more to say, more to hear. His struggles increased. “For God’s sake, just tell…”

Too late.

The tunnel sucked him back in, spinning him round and round, down…down…

The last thought to drift through his mind was a question. Would Mary Ann still be a part of his life when he returned?

We’re about to find out
, Elijah said grimly.

“A
DEN
. Aden, wake up!”

“Oh, thank God, he’s here.”

“He popped out of nowhere. Didn’t he? Did I imagine that?”

“Aden, can you hear me?”

Aden fought his way out of that long, dark tunnel a second time, afraid of what he’d find. His temples throbbed and blood rushed through his veins too quickly. His muscles were stiff, heavy. At least his companions were quiet as they, too, struggled to orient themselves.

He pried his lashes apart. Muted sunlight streamed in from a large bay window, throwing spots in his line of vision. Subdued though that light was, it still proved to be too bright and his eyes teared.

“Give him space,” a deep male voice said. Riley.

Riley was still part of his life, then. That had to mean Victoria was, as well. Please, please let it mean that she was.

Two sets of footsteps shuffled. A girl said, “I can’t,” then
white-hot, trembling hands pressed to his cheeks. He turned his head, sinking into the heat. Victoria loomed over him, dark ponytail falling over her shoulder and tickling his neck.

Thank God.

“Hey you,” she said gently. Soft fingers smoothed the hair from his brow.

“Hey. How long was I gone?” He wasn’t sure why he didn’t just reappear seconds—or even the very moment—after he disappeared, as if he’d never left at all. But no, he didn’t. He didn’t know why new memories didn’t seep into his head, if he had indeed changed his past. But again, no. Time travel and its intricacies simply baffled him. “How long?” he repeated.

“A few hours.”

Not good. He tried to pull himself into a sitting position. “Is Mary Ann—” A sharp pain sliced through his head, and he groaned.

“Gently,” Victoria said.

When he was up, he dragged his knees to his chest and rested his forehead against them. He was panting. “Is Mary Ann here?”

“I am. What happened?” she’d asked, concern dripping from the words.

All of his friends—plus Riley—were accounted for. Never had he been more relieved. If he’d had the energy, he would have leapt up and hugged them all. “I need a minute to think.”

Everything was fuzzy. From more than just traveling back to the present, he suspected. A return had never left him this groggy.

Okay, so. What had happened? Obviously, he’d changed the past. He’d told Dr. Gray things he hadn’t told him before.
Dr. Gray had flipped, just as Elijah had predicted. Since Aden had still met Mary Ann, Dr. Gray had later taken an interest in him. Which meant one of the souls would soon be freed.

His lips lifted in a slow grin. They’d done it, then. They’d really done it.

Had anything else changed?

“Do I live at the D and M with Dan Reeves?” he asked Mary Ann.

“You don’t remember?”

“Do I?” he insisted.

“Yes. You do.” Mary Ann rubbed her arms. “You’re scaring me, Aden.”

“You will cease scaring her immediately,” Riley snapped. So much for his seeming concern about Aden.

“Tell us what happened,” Victoria pleaded.

He sighed. “I went back in time, to a therapy session I had when I was eleven.” He raised his head, fought the dizziness as he pinned Mary Ann with a tortured gaze. “It was with your father.”

She blinked in confusion. “My father? I don’t understand.”

“He was my doctor for a time, in one of the institutions I stayed at. I don’t remember which one. And I didn’t realize he was your dad until today. He was nice, truly listened to me. I liked him. I, well, I told him what had happened, that I lived here and you were my friend. That you had dated Tucker. He kind of freaked out, tried to throw me out of his office.”

She was shaking her head before he finished. “That doesn’t
sound like my dad. He would have considered you delusional, but he would never throw a patient out.”

Aden let that go, knowing it would do no good to insist or tarnish her image of her father. “Does he keep records of his patients?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. All doctors did.

“Of course.”

“Then he’ll have a record of me. I’d like to read his thoughts about me.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s not only illegal, it’s unethical. He would never give the files to me.”

Aden met her stare, unwavering. “I didn’t want you to ask for them.”

Her mouth floundered open, closed. “That would be stealing.”

Victoria’s hand traveled the length of his spine, up, then down, a soothing caress meant to comfort him. “Actually, that would be helping a friend in need.”

Mary Ann licked her lips and gazed up at Riley, perhaps searching for support. He just shrugged. As innocent as she was and as uneventful a life as she’d probably led, the thought of stealing must frighten her.

“Please, Mary Ann,” he said. “Get those files. Something I said caused your dad to compare me to someone else and I want to know who it was. And, because of my confession to him, I could have changed something here in the present. Maybe it was only his mind. His thoughts. But there’s only one way to find out.”

Still she was silent.

He tried another approach. “Did he ever ask you about a boy named Aden?”

She thought for a moment, gasped. “Not by name, no, but once, right after I introduced him to Tucker, he sat me down and asked about my friends, if I had any new ones and if one liked to talk to himself. At the time, I didn’t think anything of it. I thought it was a joke.” She scrubbed a hand down her face. “I’ll do it,” she said in a soft whisper.

“Thank you.” His relief was palpable, he was sure.

“It’ll be hard, though,” she added. “His old files are in storage. And those he’s actually put in his computer are in password-protected archives.”

“All I ask is that you try.” He pushed to his feet, his legs a bit unsteady. Victoria kept her arm around his waist. He didn’t need to, not to remain standing, but he leaned against her. “What time is it?”

“Seven-eighteen,” Victoria said.

“PM?” He almost moaned. “I need to get back. Dan said my chores and homework had to be done before bed. Otherwise, I’ll never be allowed to go anywhere after school again.”

“I’ll go with you,” Victoria said. “I’ll change his mind.”

Riley sighed, flicked a regretful glance to Mary Ann. “That means I have to go, too.”

Victoria gazed at him pleadingly. “I’ll be fine. Promise. Besides, you need to look after the human.”

With another look to Mary Ann, Riley shifted from one foot to the other, popped his jaw, then finally nodded. “Fine. You’ve got one hour to return for me.”

“Thank you,” she said and ushered Aden forward. “Hurry, before he changes his mind.”

They quickly reached the line of trees that separated neighborhood from forest. This far away, even someone with Riley’s supercharged hearing couldn’t detect their words.

“Thank God he stayed behind.”

“I know,” Victoria said, grinning. “I expected him to balk. As he is charged with my protection, if something were to happen to me, he would be executed.” Without breaking her graceful glide, she bent down and picked up several fallen acorns. “He must like Mary Ann more than I realized.”

For the first time, Aden was glad about that.

Victoria glanced around. “We have an hour before I have to return. Want to spend it here?”

“Dan—”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.”

“All right.”

She stopped, the acorns balanced perfectly in her hand, not even rolling. Aden stopped, too, facing her. Waning sunlight filtered through the treetops, a haze of pink, violet and gold that worshipped her pale skin.

Skin that couldn’t be cut, he recalled. “What could happen to you that would cause Riley to get into trouble?”

“I can be kidnapped,” she said, dropping one of the acorns. “Held for ransom by someone who dislikes my father.” Another acorn fell. “And I can be hurt.” The rest slammed into the ground, forming a pile.

He didn’t like the sound of that and found himself
skimming his gaze through the surrounding area, searching for any threat that might be lurking nearby. But as usual, even the insects were quiet, perhaps sensing he and Victoria were more than human and thereby dangerous.

“I want to know how you can be hurt.” That way, he, too, could learn to protect her from harm.

She backed away from him to lean against a tree trunk. “Telling anyone of a vampire’s weakness is punishable by death, for both the vampire who tells and the one she confides in. That is why my mother was left in Romania. She spilled our secrets to a human and is now locked away until my father decides how best to slay her.” There at the end, her voice trembled.

“I’m sorry about your mom. I don’t want anything like that to happen to you, so please don’t tell me.” He didn’t fear for himself, but for her. He’d find out some other way. Through Riley, maybe. They had their moments of civility.

Strangely enough, his companions didn’t react to her pronouncement. They’d been silent since he’d woken up in this new present, actually. Yes, they normally remained silent after a trip into the past, but not for long. By now, they should have been back to their normal selves.

He could feel them, so he knew they were in there. Why weren’t they talking?

Victoria peered down at her feet. The slipper shoes were gone, exposing her black-painted toenails. Black. Huh. She enjoyed colors; he remembered her wistful smile while she’d gazed around Mary Ann’s home. He wondered if colored
polish was against vampire rules. If so, had she gotten in trouble for dyeing sections of her hair blue?

“I didn’t tell you the punishment for sharing vampire secrets to scare you,” she said, “only to warn you what can happen to us if you tell anyone else. Even Mary Ann.”

“Seriously. You don’t have to tell me.”

“I want to.” Deep breath in, out. “Vampires are vulnerable in our eyes and inside our ears,” her hand moved to each place as she spoke, “two places our hardened skin cannot protect.” Now she held out that hand to him. “Let me see one of your daggers.”

“No way. I don’t want a demonstration.”

A laugh bubbled from her. “Silly human. I’m not going to poke out one of my own eyes.”

Then what was she going to do? His arm was shaky as he handed her the blade.

“Watch.” Gaze never leaving his, she raised the weapon and struck herself in the chest.

“No!” he shouted, grabbing for her wrist and jerking it back. He was too late, and he expected to see blood. All he saw was a torn T-shirt. The skin underneath bore not a scratch. Didn’t matter to his nervous system, though. His heart was racing uncontrollably, and sweat was beading on his skin. “Don’t ever do that again, Victoria. I’m serious.”

Another of her carefree laughs drifted between them. “You are sweet. But there can be no stake through the heart for one such as me, so worry not. A blade such as this is nothing to me.” She held it up and he saw that the middle was bent. “To kill us, though, to burn through our skin and reach our sensi
tive organs, all an enemy needs is this.” She dropped the knife and lifted her hand, the opal ring she always wore glinting.

Keeping her palm flat, she slid her thumb over the jewel, pushing the opal over the gold and revealing a small tumbler filled with a thick, bright blue paste.

“Je la nune,”
she said. “This is…well, I guess the best way to describe it is to say that it is fire dipped in acid then wrapped in poison and sprinkled with radiation. Never touch it.”

The warning was unnecessary. He’d already backed up a step. “So why do you carry it around?”

“Not all vampires follow my father. There are rebels out there who would love nothing more than to hurt me. This way,
I
can hurt
them
.”

“If it’s so corrosive, how does the ring hold it?”

“Just as there are fire-resistant safes for human valuables, there are
je la nune
resistant metals. Not many, but a few. My nails are painted with one of those melted metals to keep them from burning off.”

She dipped a long, square-shaped nail into it, closed it, then raised her other arm and slashed her wrist. Flesh sizzled and blood instantly sprang free, trickling down her arm. She was grimacing, pressing her lips together to silence her moans.

“Why did you do that?” he snapped. “I told you I didn’t need a demonstration.”

A moment passed before she was able to speak, panting as she was. “I wanted you to see. To understand its power.”

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, holding her arm steady for her. “Will you heal?”

“Yes.”

He could still hear the pain in her voice. The skin remained broken and torn, the blood still leaking. That blood was redder than any he’d ever seen, brighter, with what looked to be tiny little crystals that caught the fading sunlight and sparkled. “When?”

“Soon.” Her eyes closed—but not before he’d seen her gaze stray once more to the pulse hammering in his neck. Her teeth clenched together, sharpened.

Still she continued to bleed, to pant. Why would—Realization hit and he scowled. She’d never planned to tell him. Would have just suffered until they separated. “You’ll heal when you drink, won’t you?”

She nodded, lids slowly opening, gaze finding his, locking. A shuddering gasp left her. The force of her hunger was like a living thing between them. Thankfully, her resistance was crumbling; he knew it was. Finally.

He released her arm to cup her cheeks. “Drink from me, then. Please. I want you to.”

Those sharpened teeth sank into her lower lip. “Don’t worry. I can feed later tonight. I’ll be fine.”

“I want to be the one to help you. To heal you the way you healed my lip that night.”

Her hands tangled in his hair, her expression tortured. “What if you hate me for feeding from you? What if I disgust you? What if I become addicted to your blood and try to take from you every day?”

Oh, yes. She was crumbling. He leaned down, slowly, so
slowly she could stop him at any moment, and pressed his lips against hers. “I could never hate you. You could never disgust me. And I’d love to see you every day. I’ve told you that already.”

Her lashes, so impossibly long, fused together as her lids dropped to half-mast. “Aden,” she breathed, and then kissed him. Her beautiful lips parted and her tongue flicked out. He opened his mouth, welcoming her inside, then met her tongue with his own.