Twisted (7 page)

“Yes.” Glitter in his eyes, a twitch of his lips. “Explain to me why you war with other vampire factions.”

“Explain to me why humans war with other humans.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Most humans desire peace.”

“And yet they still have not found a way to facilitate it.”

“Nor have the vampires.”

They stood there, simply staring at each other in the silence. She was panting again, her aching shoulder rousing her fervor for the subject and perhaps making her snappier than she should have been when Aden had so calmly stated his case.

“Aden,” she said, gentling her tone. “Peace is a won
derful thing. But that's all it is. A thing—and sometimes the wrong thing. Will you roll over in the name of peace, allowing my father to reclaim his throne, or will you fight him?”

“Fight,” he said without hesitation. “Then I will wage war until the other vampire factions are brought to heel. And if they can't be brought to heel, they will be annihilated. Examples will be made, and peace will finally reign.”

War at any cost was classic Vlad the Impaler ideology, and not something Aden Stone had ever before supported. Yet, this was the second time in the last five minutes that Aden had sounded exactly like her father. The third time that day.

An idea rolled through her mind, frightening her.

Were bits of her father somehow trapped inside him, driving him? If so, how? Aden had tangled with
Victoria's
memories, not her father's. Unless…were these
her
beliefs? Had they remained with him along with a few of her memories?

Vlad had always viewed humans as food and nothing more, even though he'd once been human himself, and he had taught his children to view them the same way. Power had gone to his head, she supposed. To all their heads. But more than thinking himself superior to
humans, he'd thought himself superior to
all
races. King of Kings, Lord of Lords. Peace had been an afterthought, the road to that peace violent and gruesome.

Better others were wiped out than living and opposing every directive he gave them, Vlad had often said.

After meeting Aden and seeing what he was willing to endure for those he loved, her entire perspective had changed. Vlad shattered. Aden restored. Vlad enjoyed the downfall of others, Aden mourned it. Vlad was never satisfied. Aden found joy where he could.

She envied him for all of that. Not that she was now completely opposed to war. One day, she would have to face off with her father. One day, she would have to destroy him, for he would never allow Aden to rule. Vlad would fight until the end, and he would fight without mercy. Therefore, someone had to deliver that end, and she would rather that someone be her.

Having been inside Aden's head, she knew just how deeply his past hacked at his joy. He'd hurt people. He'd possessed other bodies, forcing people to do what he wanted, rather than what they believed. All to protect himself or someone he cared about, true, yet the guilt had never left him.

I know the feeling.
She still had no idea what she'd done to him, those last few minutes inside their cave, but
the guilt was slicing at her, leaving raw, open wounds inside her.

“Distracted?”

Victoria focused on Aden. Were his lips curling into a grin? Surely not. That would mean she had amused him. “Yes. Sorry.”

“You should—” He stiffened, his ears twitching. “Someone's coming.”

She looked up, and sure enough, two females were pounding down the stairs, black robes dancing at their ankles. Victoria wanted to ask how he'd heard them when she had not but didn't want to admit her observational skills were inferior.

“My king,” one of the girls said when she spotted him, stopping at the second to last step. She executed a perfect curtsy, pale hair falling over one shoulder.

“My…Aden.” The other girl stopped, as well. Her curtsy was less graceful, but maybe that was because she was eyeing Aden as if he were a slice of candy and she had a sweet fang.

She wasn't attracted to him, Victoria knew. No, the dark-haired beauty was attracted to power. Which was why she'd challenged Victoria for rights to him.

According to their laws, any vampire could challenge any other vampire for rights to a human blood-slave.
Though Aden was acting king, he was still human—or had been, at the time the challenge was issued—and Draven had used the loophole to her advantage, hoping she would take over his “care” and become queen.

They had yet to fight. Soon, though. Soon. Aden had only to announce when and where.

Victoria seethed with the need to put Draven in her place—the crypt outside. There was protecting your loved ones out of duty, and then there was protecting your loved ones for fun. Draven would be given a taste of the latter.

Perhaps Victoria was still like her father, after all.

“Is today my birthday? Look who decided to stop hiding in her room,” Draven said with a pointed look at Victoria. “How courageous of you.”

“You were welcome to knock on that door at any time. And yet you didn't. I wonder why.”

Draven flashed her fangs.

Bring it.

“Maddie. Draven.” Aden nodded to them both, inserting himself into the “conversation” and taking it over. With no other preamble, he added, “Go to my throne room and await me. I wish to speak with everyone who lives here.”

Victoria's hands fisted at her sides. He knew the sisters'
names, yet she didn't think he'd ever before met Maddie the Lovely. Draven the Cunning, yes. Or as Victoria suddenly wanted to call her, Draven the Soon to Die Pain fully.

The vampire council had chosen the bitch—oops, was her anger showing again?—to date Aden, along with four others, one of whom had been Victoria's sister Stephanie, hoping he would choose a wife, while at the same time pacifying mothers and fathers who wanted their daughters aligned with the royal house. Back then, Aden had claimed to desire only Victoria.

Had that changed like everything else?

“What is this meeting about?” Draven asked, batting her lashes at him.

“You will find out when everyone else does.”

While Victoria rejoiced over his abrupt answer, Draven struggled to hide her flare of anger.

When she succeeded, she propped her hip to one side and twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “May I stand on your dais?”

Simpering cow.

The forcefulness—the
humanness
—of the thought surprised her. At least Aden seemed as unaffected by Draven's seduction attempt as he had about everything else.

“No, you may not,” he said, then added flatly, “But you may sit on the steps next to the dais. I want you close to me.”

She threw Victoria a smug glance. “Because I'm beautiful and you can't keep your eyes off me?”

Maddie pinched her, clearly trying to shut her up, but Draven waved her hand away. She'd always been her own number one fan.

Aden frowned. “No. The fact is, I don't trust you, don't like you and want to make sure I can see your hands. If you go for a weapon, you will be deemed a traitor and imprisoned.”

Every bit of color drained from Draven's cheeks. “Wh-what?”

All right, Victoria loved this new Aden.

“May we change our clothing before we enter the throne room, majesty?” Maddie asked softly, and when Aden nodded she pulled her sister away before the girl could say anything else.

Victoria's mouth opened, snapped closed, opened again, yet no words escaped. Not that she knew what to say. That had been spectacular. Simply spectacular.

Back to business, Aden strode to the far wall and lifted the gold summoning horn hanging there. A thing of beauty, that horn. Solid gold, intricately carved, a
dragon's head curving from the top, scaled claws curving from the bottom and a mouthpiece rounding up into a tail. He placed that mouthpiece at his lips.

“Wait. What are you doing? Don't—” Victoria raced toward him, only to stop when he blew. A loud wail echoed throughout the entire mansion, bouncing off the walls, vibrating against the floors, rattling the very foundation. “—do that,” she finished weakly.

He must have interpreted “don't do that” as “do it again,” an easy mistake to make when you
failed to listen,
because he blew a second time, and another wail resounded.

Dread worked through her, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. Finally the wailing ceased, leaving a strange, deafening silence.

“You shouldn't have done that,” she said.

“Why?”

Her hand fell to her side. “Uh, because I said not to?”

“Why not use the horn,” he continued, “when it's out in the open,
waiting
to be used?”

“It's out in the open for emergencies only.”

“This is an emergency.”

I will not scream at him.
“How so?” Gritted, but not screamed. Good.

“I didn't want to climb the stairs, call, text, email or wait for the grapevine to inform everyone about my meeting.”

I will not slap him. I absolutely will not.
“Well, do you know what your laziness just did?”

“Yes. I summoned my vampires. Efficiently. Quickly.”

Maybe one little slap wouldn't hurt. “Yes. You also summoned your allies and let your enemies know you are in need of aid. Wait. Let me rephrase. You summoned my
father's
allies, and—” she lowered her voice in case anyone was eavesdropping “—he wants you dead—in case you've forgotten—and now he'll have help. Because when he shows up—and he will—they'll offer their support
to him
rather than to you.”

Which meant… Her brother would return, she realized. Her brother would return and assist her father.

What would she do if her brother fought her boyfriend?

She'd always loathed the decree that kept her segregated from Sorin, had hoped he would one day seek her out, but he never had. Neither of them had been willing to risk their father's ire. She'd spied on him a few times, though, watching him flirt with women before coldly maiming the vampires he trained with.

She'd come to think of him as half irreverent brat, half homicidal maniac, and to this day she wondered what he thought of her, or if he would even care to learn. He'd always been Vlad's staunchest supporter.

Aden winning against her father was a long shot, but Aden winning against her father
and
her brother? Impossible. Because the only thing that would be sliced was Aden.

She would talk to Sorin—for the first time ever, and sweet mercy, she wanted to vomit from nerves at just the thought—and ask him not to fight. And when she asked him, he would…she didn't know what he would do.

“If what you say is true,” Aden said, “your father would have snuck in here and used the horn himself. But he didn't, which means he didn't want anyone summoned.”

“I—” Had no argument, and he had a point. Still!

Aden shrugged. “Let him—and them—come.”

What would it take to shake him out of this emotionless stupor? “Some will teleport into the surrounding forest. Some will travel as humans travel, but all will make their way here to hurt you.”

“I know. And that's a good thing. I want my opposition disposed of quickly, in one swoop.”

Back to spouting Vlad's—
her
—philosophy, was he? “My brother will be among those who travel here.”

“I know.”

He knew? And he didn't care?

“He'll die like the others.”

No, he didn't care. She stared up at him for a long, silent moment. “Who
are
you?” Her Aden never would have planned something so cruel.

“I'm your king.” His head tilted as his study of her intensified. “Unless you choose to serve your father now?”

“Why? Would you kill me, too?”

His expression became thoughtful, as if he were actually pondering his answer.

“Never mind,” she gritted out. The conversation was only making her angrier. “But my brother—”

“Is not up for discussion. Until Vlad develops the courage to show himself, our little war can't begin. And it needs to begin, out in the open this time, so that it can end. We cannot have one without the other.”

He'd just spouted another facet of
her
beliefs. How many times had she said
You cannot have an end without a beginning
to Riley throughout the years? Countless. Of course, she'd been trying to talk the shifter into letting her misbehave, not trying to convince him to ramp up
the hostilities. But here was a question to last the ages: had
she
been this annoying?

“You. Are. Frustrating. Me.”

Aden shrugged, but underneath the casual, unconcerned action, she saw a glimmer of unease work through his expression. First thoughtful, now uneasy. He must not like frustrating her. She hoped.

Hope that was demolished when he said, “Enough. We have things to do,” and strode to the throne room to at last host his precious meeting.

Once again Victoria found herself trailing after him like a puppy. And she didn't need Elijah to tell her bad, bad things were about to happen.

A
DEN STEPPED INTO THE
throne room, his bare footfalls silent against the plush red carpeting that formed a path directly to his throne. Black wards were woven into that carpet, and for the first time he could feel the full force of the power wafting from them, slithering around his feet. With every step, that power twined higher and higher, around his calves, his thighs, his waist. His stomach, chest and arms.

He breathed deeply, the constant buzzing in his head finally quieting. The power swirled, forming a halo that lifted strands of his hair, as if he'd just stuck his fingers into a light socket.

He experienced a startling moment of clarity. Of…
emotion
. Suddenly he was Aden, not the cold-hearted vampire king he'd somehow become. He
felt.
Guilt, joy, remorse, excitement, sorrow…love.

He reached back, extending his hand, needing to touch Victoria, even in so small a way. He knew she was behind him, each of his cells aware of her every move, her every breath. Every second that passed.

A momentary pause, a gasp of surprise. Her fingers tentatively twined with his, meltingly warm and familiar. “Aden?”

“Yes?”

Her step faltered, and she stumbled into him. He stopped and wrapped his arm around her to hold her up, loving the way she fit against his side. Like a puzzle piece he'd been missing.

“Your eyes…they're normal.” Hope bubbled in the undertone of her voice.

Normal? “I take it that's a good thing.”

“Very good.”

He glanced around. Black candelabras lined the front of the concrete bleachers stretching at his sides. Between them were thick marble columns. “I can't believe this,” he said, shocked that he was really here. “Forget the danger I caused by using the horn. I summoned everyone in here to prove a point, and that point could kill them.”

“What point?”

“I'm too embarrassed to say. I…need to sit down.” He kicked back into motion. When he reached the throne,
he eased down, more candles flickering around him, smoke swirling from the tips.

The buzzing in his head started up again. A split second later a grumble sounded, subdued, yet all the more savage and brutal because of that. And just like that, the veil of emotion lifted, leaving him feeling both a biting cold and a sizzling heat, neither of which could surpass his determination to lead his vampires to victory against Vlad.

“I'm so happy, I could cry. How human of me, right? But then, I'm becoming more human by the second, I think. And that's okay. Yes? That's good?” A grinning Victoria crouched in front of him, resting her palms on his thighs. “Let's go back to my bedroom and talk. We'll…” Slowly her grin faded. “Your eyes.” Her voice was now flat.

“What about them?”

“They're violet again. Dead.”

He shrugged, unconcerned. “Do I have Chompers inside my head?” The grumbling had tapered off as suddenly as it had begun, but he knew there was something—someone—at the edge of his conscious, waiting, listening…controlling?

If not Chompers, who? Or…what?

A frown as she straightened. “No. He's with me.”

Aden looked her over. She wore a long black robe, thin straps tying the material on her shoulders. Two tugs, and that robe would drop to the floor, and he could drink from her neck, her chest, even her thighs. Any place he wanted, really.

He gripped the solid gold arms of the throne to ensure his hands behaved. Where were these thoughts coming from? Earlier, he hadn't been able to decide if he even liked this girl. Now he was imagining undressing her and feasting on her?

“You're sure about Chompers?” he croaked.

“Completely. I'm warded from neck to ankle just to keep him under control, but I can still hear him.”

A miracle he didn't ask for proof.

“Let's talk about this tomorrow, after your medication has worn off,” she said on a sigh. “All right?”

He watched her lips as she spoke. They were red and lush, and he wanted to bite them, too.

Maybe he hadn't taken enough blood from the human. Wait. Scratch maybe. He hadn't. Otherwise, his mouth would not be watering. His gums would not be aching, his muscles clenching.

“Aden?”

He almost leaped from the throne and threw himself
at her. If he didn't look away, he
would
throw himself at her. “Stand behind me.”
Please.

The demand was harsher than he'd intended, but he didn't apologize.

Shock rather then affront claimed her delicate features. Then her eyes narrowed, and she pivoted, standing beside him rather than behind him as ordered.

He could still feel the heat of her body, the warmth of her breath trekking over him. Close vicinity of any kind was also a problem, then. But before he could send her away, a female moan echoed, followed by the grunt of a male. Instinctively Aden reached for the daggers strapped to his ankles.

There were no daggers strapped to his ankles.

Didn't matter. He stood, surveying his throne room. His subjects had yet to enter—he could hear them gathering outside the room, speculating about what he desired. How long would they—

A couple locked in a heated kiss entered through the far left door. The male had his back to Aden, was walking the female toward a column, pressing her against it. Aden saw dark hair in disarray and a T-shirt ripped along the ribs. Saw jeans worn loose and bagging around lean hips. In fact, the only things holding up those jeans were the girl's legs.

They must not have heard about the meeting.

The female was a blonde Aden hadn't seen before but somehow recognized. Her eyes were closed, but he knew her irises were hazel. Her fangs chewed at her bottom lip as blood dripped down her chin. Clearly, she had fed before they'd started this.

This. In his throne room. Without his permission.

Aden's ire rose. And yet, deep, deep inside, he was also amused. Maybe even a bit envious.

Victoria must have only just realized what was happening, because she gasped. Aden didn't need to turn around to know her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink. The heat blasting off her had intensified, wrapping around him like an invisible chain.

He waited until the pair finished and the boy was zipping up his pants, the girl straightening her robe. A robe very much like Victoria's. Long, dark and easily removable.
Don't go there.
The couple was lucky the others hadn't ceased their debate outside the doors.

Aden cleared his throat as he sat back down.

The boy wheeled around, and the first thing Aden noticed were the perfect punctures in his neck, set in the eyes of the snake tattooed there, both still seeping with bright crimson nectar.

His mouth watered again. Was he drooling?

Seeing him, the girl gasped in horror and dropped to her knees, her head bowed. “Your majesty. I'm so sorry. I should not have entered without your express permission. I will shear my hair, rip my skin to ribbons and throw myself over a cliff. Just say the word. I would never have intentionally offended you.”

“Be quiet.” Blood…taste…

He must have stiffened or made ready to rise, because Victoria settled her hand on his shoulder and held him down. He could have brushed her aside but didn't. He liked the weight there, slight though it was. Liked knowing he had only to grab her wrist and tug and she would be in his lap. Her neck, close. Her blood, in his mouth.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Again. Again. The bloodlust faded, but only slightly. Slightly, but enough.

“Yo, Ad,” the boy said.

Aden studied a face he'd seen every day for months. Rough, scarred in a few places. “Seth. What are you doing here?”

Seth flashed an unrepentant smile. “Came looking for you. Dan's worried. Everyone's worried.”

Emotions came back in a flood, guilt the front-runner, but each evaporated in the blink of an eye. “How did you find me?”

“Shannon. He followed your friend Riley, who snuck into your room to grab some of your crap.”

Shannon lived at the D and M, had been his roommate, and was one of the good guys. He also had tracking skills Aden hadn't known about.

“Gotta admit, though, I didn't expect
this
.” Seth waved his hand across the gothicly designed room. “I mean
vampires?
Can you say incredible?”

Aden's attention returned to the girl, who was still kneeling, her body quaking as she silently cried. “Enough. You had permission to be here. I summoned every one for a meeting. Now rise and take a seat.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much, majesty.” She straightened, her gaze never finding the courage to meet his, and backtracked to obey.

Part of him took great satisfaction in that. The other part of him was distressed. “Have you been claimed as a blood-slave?” he asked Seth.

“No, way! I'm no one's slave.” Seth flicked an invisible piece of lint off his shoulder. “Did someone try to claim me, though? Yeah. Some dude. Until I mentioned how tight you and I are, and he couldn't get away from me fast enough. Had the opposite affect on the girls. It's been open season on my body, baby.”

Tight? Once upon a time, Seth had wanted to hack him to pieces and nail those pieces to the ranch walls.

“No wonder you kept this place a secret. You got all the tail you could want—and more.”

“How long have you been here?” Victoria asked, her voice as sharp as one of the daggers Aden had wanted. “How many times have you been bitten?”

Dark eyes swung to her. And stayed. And fell over her, taking all of her in. Aden stiffened and forced himself to hold on to the armrests before he did something he'd regret. Namely, rip out his friend's eyeballs.

Hinges creaked as a door was opened. Footsteps sounded. Multiple pairs. No conversation, however. That had ended. Vampires and blood-slaves came into view, each finally taking their places on the tiers, as ordered.

Seth looked back at them, waved with enthusiasm, then returned his attention to Aden. “I haven't been here long,” he answered. “And I've been bitten a lot.”

“No symptoms of losing too much blood?” Aden asked at the same time Victoria said, “Are you craving the bites?”

“What is this? National Interrogate Seth Day? No symptoms. And yes, I'm craving. Who could have guessed how fun those fangs could be?”

Aden heard her swallow a mouthful of crackling air,
knew she was concerned and confused. “But your eyes are not glazed.”

“I know,” Seth replied. “They're straight up awesome.”

“But…” Victoria twirled the ends of her hair around her finger. “How have you not become a blood-slave, addicted to the bite?”

Seth wiggled his brows. “Maybe I haven't been bitten by the right girl. Hey, so, you want to give me a go?”

Victoria rolled her eyes, and Aden gnashed his teeth. Flirting with the princess was not allowed. Ever. “Does Dan know where you are?”

Seth shifted from one foot to the other, at last uncomfortable. “Not really.”

“So you
disappeared,
like me? Worried him?”

“Well, it's not like I can tell him what I found, now, is it?”

More and more vampires were filing into the room. He could feel their eyes on him, their curiosity blistering him. More than that, he could feel the desires of their beasts. Those beasts wanted to be with him, to touch him. They'd missed him.

“What about the other boys?” he asked, continuing his conversation with Seth. He was king. He could do whatever he wished. “How are they?”

“Well, Terry and RJ are moving out as planned. Next week, in fact. Oh, and Dan caught Shannon and Ryder together.”

“What?” He'd known Shannon was gay. Known Shannon had thought—hoped—Ryder was gay. But Ryder had treated Shannon as if he had the plague ever since Shannon had made a pass at him. “And?”

“And, Dan was pretty cool about it. He told them the rest of us aren't allowed to date while we're on the ranch, so they aren't allowed to, either. They can't be alone together or anything like that.”

Dan was a better guy than Aden had given him credit for—and he'd given the guy a lot of credit. “You have to go back.”

“No. No way. This setup is too sweet. The chicks come on to me like they're flies and I'm honey.” Seth pursed his lips. “I mean, like they're bears and I'm honey.”

Aden didn't want to know how many bears the boy had entertained. “Have there been fights over you?”

Seth's chest puffed up. “Don't mean to brag, but…hell, it's not bragging if it's true, right? Yeah, there's been a fight. Just a few hours ago, in fact.”

And the loser was now enslaved. “You're going back, and that's final,” he said, something inside him—some
kind of heat—wrapping around the words as they left his mouth.

Seth straightened abruptly, and his eyes glazed over. “Yes. Going back.” He spun on his heels and strode down the red carpet without another word.

Shocking.

“Wait,” Victoria called, a bit of panic in her voice.

He kept walking.

“I said wait!” she shouted.

Again, he kept walking.

“Aden, stop him,” she pleaded.

Her desperation reached the core of him, and he found himself reacting, obeying. “Seth, stop,” he called, the heat still pulsing around the words.

Seth halted but didn't turn around.

“Tell him to forget his time here.” Her hand, which had never left his shoulder, tightened its grip, her fingertips digging into his muscle. “Tell him there's no such thing as a vampire.”

“And he'll believe me? Just like that?”

“Yes.”

Doubtful. Still. Aden thought about it, wanting to please her in this, but unsure
why
he wanted to please her in this. In the end, he said, “Seth, return to Dan. Tell
him you found me, that I'm alive and well and living somewhere else, but do not mention the vampires.”