Unravelled

About the Author

GENA SHOWALTER is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author whose teen novels have been featured on MTV and in Seventeen magazine and have been praised as “unputdownable.” Growing up, she always had her nose buried in a book. When it came time to buckle down and get a job, she knew writing was it for her. Gena lives in Oklahoma with her family and three slobbery English bulldogs. Become her friend on MySpace, or a fan on Facebook and visit her at GenaShowalter.com/young-adult.

Also available from Gena Showalter INTERTWINED Visit www.miraink.co.uk

UNRAVELLED

GENA SHOWALTER

www.miraink.co.uk

PROLOGUE

ADEN STONE THRASHED ON his bed, his sheets falling to the floor. Too hot. Sweat poured from him, causing his boxers, the only thing he wore, to stick to his thighs. Too much. His mind…oh, his poor, ravaged mind. So many flickering images tangled with consuming darkness, horrid chaos and brutal pain.

Couldn’t take…much more… He was human, yet scorching vampire blood now flowed through his veins. Powerful vampire blood that allowed him to see the world through the eyes of its donor, if only for a little while. That wouldn’t have been so terrible—he’d experienced it before—except he had ingested blood from two different sources the night before. Accidentally, of course, but that didn’t matter to his scrambled brain.

One source—his girlfriend, the Princess Victoria. The other, Dmitri, her dead fiancé. Or betrothed. Whatever.

Now their blood fought a vicious tug-of-war for his attention. A toxic back-and-forth. No big deal, right?

Over the years, he’d fought zombies, time-traveled and talked to ghosts; he should be able to laugh about a little ADD. Wrong! He felt as if he’d drunk a bottle of acid with a chaser of broken glass. One burned him while the other sliced him to pieces.

And now he was—

Switching focus again.

“Oh, Father,” he suddenly heard Victoria whisper.

He winced. She’d whispered, yeah, but, too loud. His ears were as sensitive as the rest of him.

Somehow, he found the strength to push through the pain and center his gaze. Big mistake. Too bright. The heavy gloom of Dmitri’s surroundings had given way to the sparkling colors of Victoria’s. Aden peered through her eyes now, unable to even blink on his own.

“You were the strongest man ever to live,” she continued in a solemn tone, and Aden felt as if he were the one speaking, his throat rubbed raw. “How could you have been defeated so quickly?” How could I not have known what was happening? she thought.

She, her bodyguard, Riley, and their friend Mary Ann had driven Aden home last night. Victoria had wanted to stay with him, but he’d sent her away. He hadn’t known how he would react to the two different types of blood inside him, and she’d needed to be with her people in their time of mourning. For a while, he’d tried to sleep, tossing and turning, his body recovering from the beat down it had given—and received. Then, about an hour ago, the tug-of-war had begun. Thank God Victoria had beat feet. What a freaking nightmare it would have been to see himself through her eyes, in his current pathetic condition, and know what she was thinking.

When Victoria thought of him, he wanted her stuck on the word invincible. Barring that, he’d make do with hot. Anything else, no thanks. Because he thought she was perfect, in every way.

Perfect and sweet and beautiful. And his. Her image filled his mind. She had long, dark hair that tumbled down her pale shoulders, blue eyes that glittered like crystals and lips that were cherry red. Kissable. Lickable.

He’d met her only a few weeks ago, though he felt as if he’d known her forever. Which, in a warped kind of way, he had. Well, at least for the last six months, thanks to a heads-up from one of the souls living in his head. Yeah, as if vampires and telepathic blood weren’t enough of an oddity, Aden shared his head with three other human souls. More than that, each soul possessed a supernatural ability.

Julian could raise the dead.

Caleb could possess other bodies.

And Elijah could predict the future.

Through Elijah, Aden had known he would encounter

Victoria before she’d ever arrived in Crossroads, Oklahoma. A place he’d once considered hell on earth, but now considered The Awesome, even though it was a total breeding ground for so-called mythical creatures. Witches, goblins, fairies—all enemies to Victoria—and of course, vampires. Oh, and werewolves, the vampire protectors.

And, okay. That was a lot of freaking creatures. But if one myth had been true, it kinda made sense that all myths would be.

“What am I going to do with—” Victoria began again, drawing his attention to the present.

He really wanted to hear her complete that sentence. Before she could utter another word, however, his focus switched. Again. Darkness suddenly enveloped him, consuming him, chasing away his connection to Victoria. Aden’s thrashing on his bed renewed, pain exploding through him just before he linked with the other vampire. Dmitri. Dead Dmitri.

Aden wanted to open his eyes, to see something, anything, but his lids were seemingly glued together. Through panting breaths, he smelled dirt and…smoke? Yes. Smoke. Thick and cloying, itching his throat. He coughed, and coughed, or was Dmitri coughing? Was Dmitri still alive? Or was the body only reacting because Aden’s thoughts sparked through their shared mind?

He tried to move Dmitri’s lips, to force words to emerge, to gain someone’s attention, but his lungs seized, rejecting the ashy air, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe at all.

“Burn him,” someone said coolly. “Let’s make sure the traitor stays dead.”

“My pleasure,” another replied, a gleeful edge to the tone.

In the darkness, Aden couldn’t see the speakers. Didn’t know if they were human or vampire. Didn’t know where he was or—the first man’s words finally sank in, consuming his thoughts. Burn…him…

No. No, no, no. Not while Aden was here. What if he felt every lick of flame?

No! he tried to scream. Again, no sound emerged.

Dmitri’s body was lifted. Aden felt as if he were suspended from a wire, head flopping back, limbs forgotten. Nearby, he heard the crackle of those dreaded flames. Heat wafted to him, swirling around him, enveloping him.

No! He tried to thrash, to fight, but the body remained motionless. No!

A moment later, contact. And oh, yes. He felt it. The first streams of fire flicked against his feet before catching…spreading. Agony. Agony unlike anything he’d ever known. Skin, melting. Muscles and bones, liquefying. Blood, disintegrating. Oh, God.

Still he tried to fight, to pull away and run, and still the lifeless body refused to obey. No! Help! Impossibly, the agony intensified…smoldering over him, eating him up bite by tasty bite. What would happen if he remained linked to Dmitri until the very end? What would happen if he—

Pinpricks of light winked through the darkness, bloomed and locked together, until he was once again seeing the world through Victoria’s eyes. Yet another switch. Thank God. He was panting, so drenched with sweat he was practically swimming, but despite the change, residual pain—far greater than the acid still swishing through his veins—slithered from his feet to his brain, and he wanted to shout.

He was—shaking, he realized. No, Victoria was shaking.

A soft, warm hand pressed against his—her—shoulder. She looked up, vision blurry from her tears. Moonlight glowed in the sky, he saw, and stars twinkled. A few night birds even flew overhead, calling to each other in…fear? Probably. They had to sense the danger below them.

Victoria lowered her gaze, and Aden studied the vampires surrounding her. Each was tall, pale, striking. Alive. Most were not the monsters storybooks painted them to be. They were simply detached, humans a food source they couldn’t afford to care about.

Vampires lived for centuries, after all, while humans withered and died. Exactly as Aden was soon to die.

Elijah had already predicted his death. The prediction sucked, yeah, but it was the method that sucked more: a sharp knife through his very necessary heart.

He’d always prayed the method would miraculously change. Until now. A knife through the heart beat burning to death inside a body that didn’t belong to him any day of the week. And when the hell was he going to catch a break, huh? No torture, no fighting creatures, no waiting around for the end, just flunking tests and kissing his girlfriend.

Aden forced himself to concentrate before he worked himself into a rage he couldn’t hope to assuage. The vampire mansion rose behind the crowd, shadowed and eerie, like a haunted house melded with a Roman cathedral. Victoria had told him the house had been here, in Oklahoma, for hundreds of years, and her people had “borrowed” it from its owner when they first arrived. He’d taken that to mean the former owner had supplied the vampires with a nice lunch buffet—of his organs.

“He was powerful, you’re right about that,” a girl who looked to be Victoria’s age said. She had hair the color of newly fallen snow, eyes like a meadow and the face of an angel. She wore a black robe that bared one pale shoulder, traditional vampire garb, but somehow she seemed…out of place. Maybe because she’d just popped a Juicy Fruit bubble.

“A great king,” another girl added, placing her hand on Victoria’s other side. Another blonde. This one had crystalline eyes like Victoria and the face of a fallen angel. Unlike the other girls, she wore a black leather half-top and black leather pants. Weapons were strapped to her waist, and barbed wire circled her wrists. And no, the wire wasn’t a tattoo. “Yes,” Victoria replied softly. Darling sisters. Sisters? He’d known Victoria had them, yeah, but he’d never met them. They’d been locked in their rooms during the Vampire Ball meant to celebrate Vlad the Impaler’s official awakening from his century-long slumber. Aden wondered if Victoria’s mother was here, too. Apparently, she’d been imprisoned in Romania for spilling vampire secrets to humans. Vlad’s orders. A real nice guy, that Vlad.

Aden was human, and he knew way more than he should. Some vampires—like Victoria—could teleport, traveling from one location to another with only a thought. And if word had already reached Romania that the vampire king was dead, mommy vamp could have arrived in Crossroads seconds later.

“He was a terrible father, though. Wasn’t he?” the first girl continued while chewing gum. The three shared a rueful half-smile. “He was indeed,” Victoria said. “Unbending, exacting. Brutal to his enemies—and sometimes to us. And yet, it’s so hard to say goodbye.”

She peered down at Vlad’s charred remains. He was the first human ever to change from human to vampire. Well, the first anyone knew about. His body was intact, though burned beyond recognition. A crown perched haphazardly atop his hairless head.

Several rings decorated his fingers, and a black velvet cloth draped his chest and legs.

His dead body still lay where Dmitri had dropped it. Was there some kind of protocol about moving a royal corpse? Or were his people still too shocked to touch him?

They’d lost him the very night they were to be reunited with him. Dmitri had burned the guy to death just before the ceremony and claimed the vampire throne as his own. Then Aden had killed him, which meant Aden was now supposed to lead the bloodsuckers. Aden, of all people, of all humans, which was honest to God craziness. He’d make a terrible king. Not that he wanted even to try.

He wanted Victoria. No more, no less.

“Despite our feelings, he’ll have a place of honor, even in death,” Victoria said. Her gaze swept past her sisters to the vampires still looming around them. “His funeral must be—”

“In a few months,” the second sister interrupted.

Victoria blinked once, twice, as if trying to jumpstart her thoughts. “Why?”

“He’s our king. He’s always been our king. More than that, he’s the strongest among us. What if he’s still alive under all that soot? We need to wait, watch him. Make sure.”

“No.” Aden felt the glide of Victoria’s hair on her shoulders as she shook her head violently. “That will merely offer everyone false hope.”

“A few months is too long a wait, yeah,” the greeneyed gum chewer said. Her name was Stephanie, if he was reading Victoria’s thoughts correctly. “But I do agree waiting a little while before burning him is smart. We’ll let everyone get used to the idea of a human king. So why don’t we compromise, huh? Let’s wait, oh, I don’t know, a month. We can keep him in the crypt below us.”

“First, the crypt is for our deceased humans. Second, even a month is too long,” Victoria gritted out. “If we must wait—” she paused until they nodded “—then let’s wait…half a month.” She’d wanted to say a day, maybe two, but had known the suggestion would be met with resistance. And this way, Aden would have time to acclimate to the idea of being king.

The other sister ran her tongue over her very sharp, very white teeth. “Very well. Agreed. We’ll wait fourteen days. And we will keep him in the crypt. He’ll be sealed inside, preventing any lingering rebels from hurting him further.”

Victoria sighed. “Yes. All right. You agreed to my stipulation, so I’ll agree to yours.”

“Wow. No one had to throw a punch to win the argument. The changing of the guard is working in our favor already.” Stephanie popped another bubble. “So, anyway, back to Daddy Dearest. He’s lucky, you know. He died here, so he gets to stay here. Had he kicked it in Romania, the rest of the family would have spit on his crypt.”

There was a beat of stunned silence before gasps of outrage flooded the congregation.

“What?” Stephanie splayed her arms, all innocence. “You know you’re thinking the same thing.”

Thank God Victoria wouldn’t be heading off to her homeland for the funeral. Aden wouldn’t have been able to travel with her since he lived at the D and M Ranch, a halfway house for “wayward” teens, aka unwanted delinquents, where his every action was monitored.

Everyone assumed he had schizophrenia because he talked to the souls trapped inside him, which had earned him a lifetime of institutions and medications. The ranch was the system’s final effort to save him, and if he blew that chance, he’d be carted away. Boom, done, goodbye. Hello, lifetime of confinement in a padded room.

He’d lose Victoria forever.

“Shut your mouth, Stephanie, before I do it for you. Vlad taught us to survive, and kept the humans unaware of us—for the most part. He made us a legend, a myth. He also taught our enemies to fear us. For that alone, he has my respect.” The blue-eyed sister—Lauren; her name was Lauren—tilted her head to the side, suddenly pensive. “Now. What are we going to do about the mortal while our fourteen-day reprieve is ticking away?”

“Victoria’s…Aden?” Stephanie’s brow wrinkled. “That’s his name, right? ”

“Haden Stone, known by his people as Aden, yes,” Victoria replied. “But I—”

“We’ll follow his rule,” a male voice said, cutting her off. “Because, and stop me if you’ve heard this one, he’s our ruler.” This came from Riley, a werewolf shape-shifter and Victoria’s most trusted guard, as he approached the half-circle the girls formed. He glared at Lauren. “If you don’t understand that, let me know and I’ll break out the hand puppets. He killed Dmitri, he calls the shots. End of story.”

Lauren scowled at him, her fangs sharper than before. “Watch how you speak to me, puppy. I’m a princess. You’re just the hired help.” More gasps reverberated.

Aden kept losing sight of the crowd, but they suddenly filled his line of vision as Victoria studied them, ready to leap into action if someone attacked her sister. Clearly they didn’t like that the wolf had been insulted. But then, neither did she. Wolves deserved respect—far more than what had been demanded even for Vlad. Wolves could—

Aden cursed as Victoria blanked her mind, forcing herself to concentrate on what was happening around her. Wolves were more important than vampires? he wondered. More important than vampire royalty?

Why?

Riley laughed with genuine humor. “Your jealousy is showing, Lore. I’d be careful if I were you.”

Lauren ignored him this time, swinging her crystal eyes back to Victoria and snapping, “Bring Aden here tomorrow night. Everyone will meet him.

Officially.”

And kill him before the fourteen days “ticked away? ”

“Yes.” Victoria nodded, but not by word or deed did she reveal her sudden trepidation. “All right. Tomorrow, you shall meet your new king. In the meantime, we shall mourn.”

The conversation ended, everyone properly chastised.

Victoria sighed and peered over at the body of her father. Which meant Aden peered over at her father. He considered the charred remains, speculating about what the king had looked like before. Tall and strong, surely. Had he possessed blue eyes like Victoria? Or green like Stephanie?

Vlad’s fingers curled into a fist.

Aden stilled, sure he’d just hallucinated. And he must have, he rationalized, because Victoria had not seemed to notice the earth-shattering event and he’d watched through her eyes. Vlad’s fingers uncurled.

Once again, Aden stilled, waiting, gauging, heart thumping against his ribs. He hadn’t imagined that. He couldn’t have imagined that because even as the thought formed, those fingers twitched as if trying to make another fist. Movement, true movement, and movement equaled life. Right?

Why hadn’t Victoria noticed? Why hadn’t anyone? Maybe they were too lost to their grief. Or maybe Vlad’s once-immortal body was simply expelling the last hints of his existence. Either way, Victoria needed to be told what he’d seen.

Victoria, Aden projected, desperate to gain her attention.

Nothing. No response.

Victoria!

She petted Vlad’s arm before rising, intending to instruct the biggest of the vampires to carry him inside for burial preparation. Obviously, she didn’t hear him.

And then it was too late. His world shifted, realigned, darkness closing in around him. No, not darkness. Light. So much light. Blue-white flames covered Dmitri’s entire body, and therefore Aden’s body. Scorching him, blistering what was left of him.

This time, Aden did scream.

He did thrash.

He also died.

ONE

MARY ANN GRAY STUDIED HERSELF in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. Makeup—light and unsmeared. Dark hair—not a tangle. Perhaps even, dare she think it? Silky. Clothes—an unwrinkled lacy T-shirt and clean skinny jeans. Shoes—hiking boots. She’d replaced the plain white laces with thick pink ones, giving them a feminine flair.

Okay, then. She was officially ready.

Breathing deeply, shaking a little, she gathered her books, stuffed them into her backpack, swung that pack over her shoulder and headed downstairs toward the kitchen. Where her dad was waiting. With breakfast she would be required to eat.

Her stomach churned in protest. She’d have to fakeeat because she doubted she would be able to keep a single bite down. She was simply too knotted with nerves.

From the living room, she heard pans clattering, water pounding into the sink and a man sighing in…defeat?

She stopped just before snaking the final corner and leaned her shoulder against the wall, losing herself to her thoughts. A few weeks ago, she and her dad had entered new territory. Ugly, deceitful territory. We’ll always be honest with each other, he used to tell her. All. The. Time. Of course, at the same time, he’d been feeding her lies about her birth mother. The woman who had raised her had not given birth to her, but had in fact been her aunt.

In truth, her real mother had possessed the ability to time-travel into younger versions of herself, yet he’d refused to believe her, had considered her unstable. She couldn’t prove otherwise, either, because she was dead and her spirit had moved on. Lost to Mary Ann forever.

God, the loss still hurt.

Mary Ann had gotten to spend one day with her. One amazing, wonderful day because Eve, her mother, had been one of the souls trapped inside her friend Aden’s head. Then, boom. Eve was gone.

Tears burned Mary Ann’s eyes as she remembered their parting, but she blinked them back. She couldn’t allow herself to cry. Her mascara would run, and then she’d look like a domestic abuse victim when Riley arrived to pick her up.

Riley.

My boyfriend. Yes, she’d think about him instead, looking forward to the future rather than wallowing in the past. Her lips even curled into a small smile as her heart raced uncontrollably. She hadn’t seen him since they’d attended the Vampire Ball together, when his king had been murdered and Aden had been named the new vampire sovereign. Not that Aden wanted the title—or the responsibilities that would surely come with it.

Sure, that had only happened on Saturday. But two days apart felt like forever when Riley was involved. She was used to seeing him every day at school, as well as every evening when he snuck into her room.

And, to be honest, she’d never liked anyone the way she liked him. Maybe because there was no one quite like Riley. He was intense and smart, sweet (to her) and protective. And sexy. All those muscles…honed from years of running as a werewolf shape-shifter and fighting as a vampire guardian. Both of which forged the many facets of his personality.

While acting as guardian, he was unemotional and distant (to everyone but her). He had to be, to do such a violent job. But as a werewolf, he was soft, warm and cuddly. I can’t wait to cuddle him again, she thought, her grin spreading.

“Are you going to stand out there all day?” her dad called.

She snapped to attention, grin fading. How had he known she was there? Just get the morning’s emotional bloodbath over with.

Raising her chin, she marched the rest of the way into the kitchen and settled at the table, dropping her backpack at her feet. Her dad set a plate of pancakes in front of her, the scent of blueberries and syrup suddenly coating the air. Her favorite. Her stomach had settled considerably as she’d thought about Riley, but even so, she didn’t think she could eat. Or rather, didn’t want to risk the possible consequences. Like vomiting in front of her brand-new boyfriend.

Her dad eased into the chair across from her. His blond hair was spiked around his head, as if he’d raked his fingers through it a few thousand times, and his usually bright blue eyes were dull, with dark circles underneath them. Lines of tension branched from his mouth, making him look as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. Maybe he hadn’t.

Despite everything, she hated seeing him like that. He loved her, she knew that. But that was what had made his betrayal sting so badly. And by “sting” she meant toss-her-into-a-meat-grinder-and-use-thepieces-as-fish-bait.