Twisted

FOUR

MARY ANN GRAY SAT AT THE corner desk in the back of the library, reading countless microfiches—the same thing she’d done every night for a week. Days were beginning to blend together, her temples were throbbing, the muscles in her back were knotted, and there were (probably permanent) marks along her butt and thighs that were a perfect match to the scuffs in the freakishly uncomfortable chair she’d commandeered.

According to all the “How To” info she’d read for people on the run, she knew developing a routine was bad. Like flashing a neon arrow just above your head. Problem was, this routine was necessary.

“They close in thirty, you know.”

She flicked an irritated glance at her companion. AKA the boy she couldn’t ditch no matter what she tried. And she’d tried a lot. Dine and dash. The old “wait here, I’ll be right back.” The classic “what’s that over there?” And even brutal honesty—” just leave me alone, I hate you.”

“So I’ll finish in thirty,” she said. “Now get lost.”

“Let’s not start that argument again.” Tucker Harbor perched at the edge of her desk, pushing books and newspapers on top of each other and crinkling their precious pages. Just to irritate her, she was sure. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Do you mind? This stuff is important.”

“Yes, I do mind, thanks for asking,” he said, staying put.

She glared up at him. A mix of blond and brown hair shagged around the boyish face of an angel. Which was one hundred percent false advertising, considering he’d been spawned from a demon. Or would that be spawned from the devil?

“When are you going to tell me what you’re looking for?” he asked.

“When I stop wanting to rip out your trachea. In other words, never.”

He shook his head in mock despondency. A hard thing to pull off while he was freaking grinning. “Harsh, Mary Ann. Harsh.”

He was so annoying. She’d dated him for months, then dropped him like the used condom he was when she found out he’d cheated on her with her best friend Penny. Penny, who was now pregnant with his kid.

Penny, whom she’d forgiven and still called. As of this morning, her friend was suffering from all-day sickness. Despite that, she’d managed to crawl her way out of bed to check on Mary Ann’s dad.

Her friend’s words played through her head.

“Sweet Jesus, Mary Contrary,” Penny had crackled over the line. “He’s, like, the walking dead. He doesn’t even go to work anymore. He just stays in the house. I peeked in the window last night, and he was just staring at your picture. You know I’m as hard core as a girl can be, but that almost broke me.”

Me, too, she thought now. Nothing I can do about that, however. I’m saving his life. She’d had him freed from a vengeful fairy’s compulsion to never leave his room and to ignore everything around him. That would have to be enough. Better he was despondent than murdered to get to her.

And, now it was time to change the subject inside her head. What had she been thinking about before? Oh, yeah. Tucker.

Why, why, why had she convinced Aden, Riley and Victoria to save Tucker’s life after a group of vampires used his body as an appetizer? If she hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been alive to stab Aden in the heart.

Weirdly enough, Tucker had confessed to the crime without any prompting from her. He’d even cried while telling her. Not that she had forgiven him. Maybe when the shock wore off. Then again, maybe not.

“What you did to Aden was harsh,” she said softly.

He blanched, but still he didn’t move away. “I told you. Vlad made me do it.”

“And how do I know you’re not here under Vlad’s orders, watching me and reporting what I do?”

“Because I told you I wasn’t.”

“And you’re known for your honesty and integrity?”

“Sarcasm is an ugly thing, Mary Ann. Look, I did what he wanted and then I ran. I haven’t seen him or heard from him since.”

The “heard from him” part gave her pause. She knew Vlad had spoken to Tucker inside his head, as if standing next to him and whispering when he hadn’t actually been standing next to him and whispering. Maybe Tucker was telling the truth right now, but again, maybe he wasn’t.

Bottom line: at any moment Vlad could whisper, command him to drag her home, hurt her, bury her, and Tucker would obey without hesitation. She wasn’t willing to risk it.

So she said, “I don’t care about your reasons or that you’re desperate to escape the head vamp. The facts are, you hurt Penny, hurt Aden, and you’re a liability. I’d be stupid to trust you.”

“You don’t have to trust me. You just have to use me. And in my defense, again, Aden is still alive. I can feel the pull of him.”

So could she, and that was the only reason she hadn’t followed through with her threat to get up close and personal with his windpipe. Okay, that wasn’t the only reason. She wasn’t violent by nature. Usually.

Neither was Aden, but life had shaped him differently than it had shaped her. While she’d grown up in the comfort of her parents’ love, he’d grown up in the cold, uncaring walls of mental institutions, his doctors constantly shoving pills at him. Pills he hadn’t wanted and hadn’t liked.

The docs had assumed he was crazy, never digging deeper to get to the truth. And the truth was, Aden was a paranormal magnet. Anyone or anything with supernatural abilities was drawn to him, and their powers—whatever they were—were magnified.

Mary Ann, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. She tended to repel the supernatural and suppress powers.

The suppression thing was the reason Tucker had glued himself to her side. Around her, the darkest urges of his demonic nature were eased, even forgotten. He liked that. In fact, that was the reason he’d dated her. Not because he’d been attracted to her, but because he liked feeling normal.

So not flattering.

“Look,” he said. “I’ve helped you, haven’t I?”

She refused to admit that, yes, in the past few days he’d helped her. She still wanted him to suck it.

“Riley was closing in on you, and I cast an illusion, hiding you inside it. He passed you.”

Don’t take the bait. And don’t you dare think about Riley! Riley, who was probably—argh! She pressed her lips together, once again remaining silent.

Tucker sighed. “Such a stubborn girl.”

Though she tried to stop them, thoughts of Riley continued to flood her. Riley, chasing after her the night she discovered the truth about her mother. Riley, catching her, carrying her to his car. Riley, kissing her. Comforting her. He would comfort her now, if she let him. But as much as she wanted to see him, she couldn’t. She would definitely hurt him and quite possibly kill him.

And really, seeing him that last time, when he’d bypassed her, unaware she was right there hidden in Tucker’s illusion, had nearly killed her. She loved that boy. So much so she’d come close to giving him her virginity. Twice. Both times he had been the one to stop them, wanting to make sure she was ready. That she wouldn’t regret what happened. That she was with him because she wanted him, and for no other reason.

Now she regretted that they hadn’t.

Walking away from him—fine, running as fast as her feet would carry her—had been hard. Was still hard. Harder by the second. How easy would it be to call him and ask him to pick her up? Beyond easy. He’d do it, too. Meet her wherever she asked, sweep her up and cart her to safety. That’s just how he was.

So, she had to be the same way for him. Anything to keep him safe. Even if that meant being apart. Forever.

“I had to stand far away from you,” Tucker went on, either oblivious to her inner turmoil or simply not caring, “so you wouldn’t mess with my mojo. You know, stifle it.”

“No. I don’t know what mojo is because I’m a moron.”

“Sarcasm again. Seriously, rethink it. Anyway. I had to be close enough to you to still be able to force Riley to see only what I wanted him to see. That wasn’t easy.”

She made a big production of leaning forward and “studying” the screen. When, in actuality, the words were kinda blurred together and had been for a while. Fatigue rode her hard. Nowadays, fatigue always rode her hard. She felt like she hadn’t slept in years.

Every night, when she laid her head on whatever motel pillow she could afford—or when she couldn’t, whatever building she stumbled upon—she tossed and turned, her mind lost to the things she’d witnessed and done what seemed an eternity ago.

Wow. An eternity that was really only about two craptastic weeks ago. Bodies had been writhing in pain all around her. Because of her. People had begged for mercy. Because of her. Because she had placed her hands on their chests and absorbed their powers, warmth and energy, leaving them with nothing, turning them into empty husks.

“Did you want to see the wolf?” Tucker asked, head tilting to the side as he measured her expression.

“Yes.” The truth left her before she could stop it. How big and strong and capable Riley had looked. How frustrated and angry. How … frightened. For her.

Exasperated, Tucker threw up his arms. “Then why are you running from him?”

Because she was dangerous. She wouldn’t mean to, but one day she would drain the energy out of him, too. Without touching him. Truly, she didn’t need to touch people to kill them. Touching helped, yes, but she could simply stand in front of them and inadvertently start tugging their life force into her own body.

Those life forces had become her food, after all.

Though she’d tried, she hadn’t drained Tucker yet. For some reason, she couldn’t. He possessed some kind of block. Either that, or her previous overindulgence prevented her from feeding. Yet.

She should feel guilty that she’d tried, because, if she had succeeded, he would never have recovered. The witches hadn’t. The fairies hadn’t. Only the ones who’d left the fray before she’d reached them had survived the carnage.

She sighed. Despite her failure with Tucker, she thought it was just a matter of time before her hunger returned in full. Every few hours, she experienced slight pangs. She feared those pangs would only grow. That they would develop invisible arms and reach out, grabbing onto whatever creature happened to be in her vicinity.

Fingers crossed, Tucker was victim one.

She found herself wondering what demons tasted like and had to shake away the thought. See? She couldn’t control this newest aspect of her nature. Bile burned a path up her throat. She needed a distraction. Big-time.

Mary Ann swiveled in her chair, leaned back and rested her hands on her middle. Peering up at her ex through the thick shield of her lashes, she said, “Tucker, I’m no good for you. You should leave while you can.” He’d get one warning. Only one.

He frowned. “What does that mean?”

“You saw what I did that night.” A statement not a question. And she didn’t have to specify what night she meant.

“Yeah.” His frown disappeared, a high-wattage grin taking its place. “And it was impressive as hell.”

Impressive? Hardly. Her cheeks suffused with heat. “If you stay, I’ll do that to you. I won’t mean to—at least, that’s what I’ll tell anyone who questions me—but I will.”

The person next to her, a college-aged girl, shushed her. “Trying to work here.”

“Trying to converse here,” Tucker said, flashing a scowl at her. “You don’t like it, you can move.”

She moved, her ponytail angrily swishing back and forth.

Mary Ann fought a small wave of jealousy. She’d always wanted to be strong and assertive, and while she was working on it, she wasn’t there yet. For Tucker, it came so effortlessly.

Tucker studied her, one brow arched. “Liked that, did you?”

Took a Herculean effort, but she maintained a neutral expression. “No.”

“Liar.” He rolled his eyes, then rested his elbows on his knees. “Back to what we were discussing.” He threw the last word at the girl, now four desks away, before refocusing on Mary Ann. “Let’s say I like to live on the edge, and the fact that you could one day hurt me revs my engine. But guess what, baby doll? You need me. Riley wasn’t the only one chasing you, you know.”

“What?” That was news to her.

“Yep. Two girls. Both blondes. You kinda fought them before.” He gave a low, raspy wolf-whistle. “And BTW, they’re hot.”

The bile gave her throat another good singeing. “Were they wearing robes? Red robes?” If so. “Yes. You saw them this go-round?”

“No.” But hot blondes she’d “fought” before were rare. So, she knew exactly whom he spoke of and suddenly wanted to vomit.

“Too bad. You could have put in a good word for me. Because, yeah, I’d do ‘em.”

“A good word?” she scoffed, though inside she trembled. “When you’d do anyone? Please.” The blondes were witches, no question. Witches who had escaped her wrath. Witches who now hated her for destroying their brethren. Witches with power beyond imagining.

Mmm, power …

The fear momentarily left her, and her mouth watered. Witches tasted so good.

When she realized what thoughts were pouring through her mind, she slapped herself on the cheek. Bad Mary Ann! Bad!

“Okay, what was that about?”

She ignored Tucker to concentrate on her new top priority. More wards. If witches were on her tail, she needed to be ready for their attack. And they would attack. New wards would protect her from specific spells they might cast. Spells of death, destruction and even mind control.

Yeah, the Red Robed Wretches could go there.

“Hey, you’re getting paler by the second. There’s no reason for you to worry. I sent them away just like I sent the wolf away. Oh, and I sent the other group chasing you away, too. A mix of males and females with sparkly skin.”

Please, no. Not—

“Fairies,” Tucker said. “They were definitely fairies.”

Confirmation. Wonderful. As many as she had drained, they had to want revenge just as badly as the witches. Tucker might have sent them away, but they’d be back. All of them.

“So what do you come here every day to read about, huh?” Tucker asked, changing the subject. To give her time to calm down? To distract her? “Tell me, and maybe I can help. More, that is. Help more.”

Subtle. “It involves Aden, and secrets he’s shared with me. And I am not sharing those secrets with you.”

A moment passed in silence. Then, “Secrets, secrets, let’s see. There are so many to choose from, I don’t know where to start.”

“What do you mean?”

“Vlad had me research Aden before I stabbed him, and guess what? You’re not the only one who’s good at researching.”

Heart thundering with a storm of dread, she whipped upright. “What did you learn?” Aden did not like anyone knowing about him. He was embarrassed, but also cautious. If the wrong person found out about him—and actually believed the truth—he could be used, tested, locked away, killed. Take your pick.

Tucker held up one hand and began ticking off items like he was reading from a list. “He has three souls trapped inside his head. He used to have four, and one of them was your mother—your real mother, not the aunt who raised you as if you were hers—but Eve’s gone now. What else? Oh, yeah. He’s now king of the vampires. Until Vlad decides to step in and take the crown back.”

Right on all counts. Her mouth went dry, and she croaked out, “How did you learn all that?”

“Honey, I can listen to any conversation, anytime, and no one ever knows I’m there. And I listened to a lot of yours.”

“You spied on me.”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

How many times? What all had he seen? She popped her jaw. Perhaps, if she was never able to drain him, she’d just stab him the same way he’d stabbed Aden. “What makes you think Vlad will succeed?”

Gray eyes went flat. “Please. As if there can be any other outcome. I researched Vlad, too, and he is a warrior who has won countless battles and survived for thousands of years. He’s flat-out mean, underhanded and has no concept of honor. What is Aden? Nothing but a bag of meat to a guy like Vlad. Why? Because Aden will want to fight fair and will actually care about collateral damage, both of which will handicap him.”

Phrased like that, there was no denying the truth. She needed all the help she could get for her original mission. Even from someone like Tucker.

Mary Ann fell back into her chair, closed her eyes for a moment and breathed. Just breathed. In and out, trying to relax, to come to grips with what she was about to do. If Tucker betrayed her, she would have done more harm than good to her friend. If he didn’t, well, he could actually help keep Aden alive.

So. No contest. She had to do this.

“Okay,” she said, meeting his gaze dead-on. “Here it is, the whole story, the unvarnished truth.”

He rubbed his hands together with glee.

That didn’t comfort her and, in fact, intensified her tension. But she said, “A few weeks ago, Riley and Victoria gave Aden and me a list. Because, on December twelfth, seventeen years ago—”

“Wait. December twelfth, your birthday?”

She blinked in surprise. He remembered. How had he remembered? “Yes. Anyway, fifty-three people died in the same hospital where Aden and I were born. St. Mary’s.” At his look of confusion, she added, “Did I forget to mention Aden and I share a birthday?”

“Yes, but I already knew.”

“Anyway. A lot of those people died because of a bus accident. My mom died giving birth to me.” Her mom had been like Aden, a force of nature, able to do things “normal” people couldn’t, and infant Mary Ann had drained her dry. Don’t think about that, either, or you’ll, what? Cry. “Somewhere on that list are the three other souls that Aden inadvertently sucked inside his head.” Maybe, they thought, hoped.

“You’re sure? Maybe they died nearby, and their names aren’t there.”

“A possibility, I guess.” One she wouldn’t entertain at the moment. “Through my research, I’ve managed to cross off more than half the names already.”

“That seems excessive.”

Not really. “The remaining souls are male, so that automatically eliminated the females.”

Tucker arched a brow. “Unless they’re transgender souls. I mean, really. Aden seems like the type to host a pink panty party inside his—”

“Tucker.”

“What? He does. And his friend Shannon is as gay as—”

“Shut. Up. The males possess the same special abilities now that they possessed when they were alive. I know this because my mother did, too. So I’ve been going through the names, looking for stories about raising the dead, body possession and predicting death. Even the minutest hint.”

He thought for a moment. “Backtrack a little. Why exactly do you want to identify the souls?”

“Because they need to remember what their last wish was, and do it. Then, they’ll leave Aden and he’ll be stronger, able to concentrate and defend himself from Vlad.”

“You really think that will help?”

“What is this? Twenty questions? Hell, yes, I do.” She had to. Otherwise her friend’s chances were nil.

Once again Tucker was blinking down at her. “Mary Ann, you just cussed.”

“Hell isn’t a cuss word.”

“To me it is.”

“Why? Because you’re afraid of spending eternity there?”

Good humor, gone. “Something like that.”

He looked so sad, she actually felt bad for her waspishness. “Maybe, by the time this is over, I’ll have earned myself a spot right next to you. We can keep each other company while roasting.”

He barked out a laugh, as she’d hoped, but that earned them another glare from Hush Girl. He flipped HG off and said to Mary Ann, “You wish I’d spend eternity with you. So, you got any leads?”

“Before you interrupted me—” she paused, waiting for an apology, but of course he didn’t offer one “—I was reading a story about a mortician at the hospital. Dr. Daniel Smart. Apparently he was murdered there. Defense wounds on his arms and legs, as if he’d rolled into a ball to protect himself while someone—” or something “—bit and punched him.”

“Great story. But what does that have to do with Aden’s souls?”

“One of them can raise the dead. What if Dr. Smart raised a dead body in the morgue, and it killed him?”

“But wouldn’t he have raised a dead body before? And if he had, why would he have continued to work there? He would have been in constant danger, and his secret would have gotten out. But it didn’t, which means he didn’t.”

“Maybe he could control the ability.”

“Maybe he couldn’t.”

“I don’t care what you say,” she grumbled, hating that he was right. Again. “This is the best lead I’ve got.”

“Our definition for the word best differs. Still,” Tucker went on blithely, “it’s worth checking out.”

“I know.” How irritating! As if she needed his permission. “That’s next on my To Do list.”

“What about his parents?”

“Who, Smart’s?”

Tucker rolled his eyes. “No, moron. Aden’s.”

“What about them?” Their current address was burning a hole in her pocket. Finding them had been first on that To Do list she’d mentioned, in fact, and she’d already crossed it off with shocking ease. A search engine, a (stolen) credit card Tucker had given her, and boom. Results.

They were still local; the shame of abandoning their son, when they might have been the only people in the world who could truly help him, hadn’t driven them away. Were they happy with their decision? Regretful?

She’d debated: call Aden and tell him, or not call Aden? In the end, she’d opted for not. For the moment. He had a lot to deal with right now and if she met with the couple first—fine, spied on them—she could make a more informed decision.

“Close up for today,” Tucker said, drawing her back into the conversation, “and let’s find a place to sleep. We’ll head out for …” He paused, waiting.

“Smart’s wife is still here in Tulsa, close to St. Mary’s, the hospital where her husband used to work.” Tulsa, Oklahoma. Which was two hours away from Crossroads, Oklahoma. Two hours away from Riley.

Not that she’d imagined him driving that stretch of highway a thousand times.

“Good.” Tucker nodded. “Did you read the man’s obituary?”

“Yes.”

“Checked out his family?”

“As best as I could.” He’d left the wife behind, but no one else had been mentioned.

“And you have an exact address?”

“No. I thought I’d drive around until a golden ray of sunlight shined down from the heavens and spotlighted the house.”

“Sarcasm again. Not your best look.”