Twisted (2 page)

Sometimes Aden and Victoria switched back, the souls returning to him, Chompers returning to her. They would quickly switch again, however. And again and again and again. And each time edged them closer and closer to insanity. Too many memories swirling together, too many conflicting needs. One day soon, they would tumble off that edge completely.

“Aden,” Victoria said, panting, his name broken. “I must…have to…”

He knew what came next.

She angled his head, just as he'd done to her, and a moment later, her mouth left his. He didn't like that. Her fangs sank into his jugular. He didn't like that, either, and hissed out a breath. Once upon a time, her bite had felt
good.
In her mindless state of hunger, she'd lost her finesse, and those fangs sliced into a tendon. He didn't try to stop her, though. She needed to drink just as much as he did.

Footsteps echoed through their cave, resonating like a buzzer.

Aden didn't panic. Victoria could teleport anywhere she'd been before, had even whisked them here the night of his stabbing. He didn't know where “here” was, or
when she'd visited, he knew only that hikers occasionally wandered inside. None had ever traveled this far and this deep, and he doubted that would change.

He and Victoria could have gone somewhere else, he supposed, somewhere even more remote. Might have been safer, being as far away from civilization as possible. There was a target on Aden's back, after all, Victoria's father having come back from the dead to reclaim his throne. Or rather, Vlad the Impaler was
trying
to reclaim the throne.

Aden might be human—emphasis on
might
—but
he
was now the vampire king. He'd killed for the right to rule. So,
he
would be reclaiming the throne. Just as soon as he could wean himself from Victoria's blood.

His thoughts, he wondered, or the monster's?

His, he decided next. Had to be his. He wanted to be king as intently as he wanted to feed.

You didn't before.
In fact, he'd been on the hunt for a replacement.

That was before. Besides, there at the end, I had started to make plans for my people.
His people?

That was the adrenaline talking.

Yeah? And this is me talking—shut up.

The footsteps reverberated, closer…closer…

Victoria ripped her fangs from his neck and hissed at the only entrance to the cavern. Normally, if she were lucid, she would simply compel visitors away before they could step inside. Her voice was powerful, and no one human could resist doing what she commanded. Except Aden. He must have built up an immunity to that voice, because she could no longer work her magic on him. She'd tried, here in the cave, every time the madness had come upon her.
Tilt your head, offer your neck…
Yet he'd done only what
he
wanted.

“If the human comes any closer, I will eat his liver and rip out his heart,” she snarled.

A threat she wouldn't see through, Aden didn't think. These past few days—years?—she craved only Aden's blood, as he craved only hers. He could always smell the hikers the moment they entered the winding maze of the caves, just as he knew Victoria could, but the thought of drinking from one of them, even to save his life, caused acid and bile to churn in his stomach. And yet, they were the reason he stayed in this location. If he or Victoria ever needed someone else's blood, whether they wanted it or not, they could get it.

Footsteps, closer and closer still, hurried now, determined. “Is someone back there?” The man's voice was slightly accented. Spanish, perhaps. “I mean you no
harm. I heard voices and thought you might need some help.”

Victoria was off the dais, and a second later Aden was smashing face-first into the thin T-shirt she'd used as a cushion. A tall, lanky man with dark hair and skin, perhaps forty years old, stepped into their private sanctuary. Victoria latched onto the human's shirt, moving so swiftly Aden saw only a blur. The guy's backpack rattled against his canteen of water. With a flick of her wrist—see?—she flung him deeper inside.

He landed with a hard thud, skidding backward until he hit the wall. Instinctively he rolled and sat up. Confusion and fear battled for supremacy in his expression.

“What—” He held out his hands in a protective gesture.

Another blur of motion, and Victoria was crouched in front of him, gripping his chin. Aden's blood dripped from the corners of her mouth. That jet-black hair was a wild tangle around her head, and her fangs extended past her upper lip, cutting into the bottom one. She was a hauntingly lovely sight, as nightmarish as she was angelic.

Little beads of sweat broke out over the man's brow. His eyes widened, fear finally winning and glazing
his irises. His chest rose and fell quickly, shallowly, his breath wheezing from his nostrils.

“I—I'm so sorry. Didn't mean to…will leave…never tell…swear…just let me go…please,
please
.”

Victoria continued to study him as if he were a rat in a wheel.

“Tell him to go away,” Aden said. “Tell him to forget.” She would despise herself if she hurt an innocent human. One day. Not today, probably not tomorrow, but one day, when their wits returned.

If they returned.

Silence. Her fingers tightened on the man. So much so, he grimaced in pain, bruises already branching along his jaw.

Aden opened his mouth to issue another command, but in the back of his mind, he heard another rumble. Stronger this time, more than a yawn. Every muscle in his body tensed.

Chompers had awakened.

A sense of urgency filled Aden. “Victoria. Now! Or I swear I'll never feed you again.”

Another beat of silence, then, “You will go away,” she said, thrums of subdued power wafting from her voice. Why subdued? “You saw no one, spoke to no one.”

Unlike before, several seconds passed before the
human responded to her command. In the end, his brown eyes dulled, and his pupils contracted. “No trouble,” he said in a monotone. “Leave. No one.”

“Good,” she said, anger pulsing from her now. Her arm fell to her side. “Go. Before it's too late.”

He stood. Walked to the entrance. Exited without looking back. He would never know how close he'd come to dying.

The rumble in Aden's head intensified yet again. Any moment now, and the rumble would become—

A roar.

So loud, consuming, rocking him to his soul. Aden covered his ears, hoping to block the sound, even though he knew how ineffective the action was. Louder and louder, the roar became a scream, high-pitched, slashing through his mind like a razor until his thoughts broke apart and two words hacked their way to center stage.

Feed.

Destroy.

No, no, no.
I did feed,
he said to Chompers.
Let's not—

FEED. DESTROY.

The spiderwebs returned to his vision, interspaced with red. Both zeroed in on Victoria. Still she crouched,
her gaze leveled on him, wary. She knew what would happen next.

FEEDDESTROY.

Yes. Aden rolled from the rocky dais and settled his weight on unsteady legs. Victoria unfolded to her full height, reed slender and lovely. Wild. Her hands curled into fists. He'd just eaten, true, but he needed more. Had to have more.

“Feed,” he heard himself say, two voices layered together, one familiar, the other smoky and harsh. Fight this, he had to fight this. Couldn't let Chompers tug his puppet strings.

A whimper escaped Victoria as she scratched at her ears. The souls must be waking up. He knew how loud their voices could be. As loud as Chompers' roar.

“Protect,” she said, her eyes suddenly sparkling with brown, green and blue. Oh, yes. The souls were in there, chattering.

Protect her, as she'd said. He must protect her. But he ground out, “Destroy.” And even though he tried to root his feet into the floor, he found himself stalking toward her, his mouth watering.

D e s t r o y d e s t r o y d e s t r o y. DESTROYDESTROYDESTROY.

Chompers had always been insistent. But this…this was savagery at its most basic.

Somehow, some way, Aden's time with Victoria was about to come to an end—the knowledge was suddenly as much a part of him as his healed heart—and he had a feeling only one of them would be walking away.

V
ICTORIA
T
EPES, DAUGHTER
of Vlad the Impaler and one of the three princesses of Wallachia, braced herself for impact. Good thing. A split second later, Aden slammed into her, knocking her into the same cave wall against which she'd thrown the human. Goodbye, beloved oxygen.

There was no time to refill her lungs, either. One of Aden's hands closed around her neck and squeezed. Not enough to damage her but enough to trap her. He was fighting the monster's urges with every bit of his strength, she knew. Otherwise he would have already crushed her.

Soon, he would lose the battle.

Anger would have helped her push him away, but she couldn't summon a single spark of it.
She
had done this to him, and the guilt ate at her, a malignant cancer
without a cure. He'd told her not to try and save him. He'd told her bad things would happen if she did. But as she'd peered down at the boy she'd come to love, the one person who had ever accepted her for who and what she was without any strings or expectations, she hadn't been able to let him go. She'd thought,
He's mine, I need him.

So, before death could claim him, she'd acted. She still didn't regret what she'd done—how could she? He was here!—and
that
was why the guilt had chewed such a big hole in her. Her Aden had to abhor what he was becoming. Aggressive, domineering…a warrior without a soul.

Normally he was gentle with her, treating her like a precious treasure, a need to safeguard her somehow hardwired into his brain. Even though she could rip him apart in seconds. Or rather,
could have
ripped him apart. More than changing mentally, he was changing physically. Already he was taller, stronger, quicker—and he'd been tall, strong and quick to begin with.

His eyes, usually a collage of glittering colors as the souls he (once) possessed peered through them, were now the startling shade of a violet. “Thirsty,” he rasped, and she would have sworn she felt the singe of smoke wafting from him.

Isn't this just a peach,
a male voice piped up inside her
head.
We're with the vamp again.
And there was Julian, the corpse whisperer. He could raise the dead. So far, however, all he'd raised was her blood pressure.

Sweet! Hey Vicki.
Another voice immediately joined the conversation.
You should take a shower. You know, get that blood cleaned off you. And remember to scrub really hard. Everywhere. Cleanliness is next to godliness.
This one belonged to Caleb, the body possessor and naked-curves aficionado.

“Let me take over Aden's body,” she said. She'd seen him step into and disappear inside other people, snapping up the reins of command. Just
boom,
one second he was there, and the next he was a part of them, forcing them to do whatever he wanted.

He no longer needed Caleb's help to perform the task. He could control the ability, turning it on and off at will. Not her, though. She'd tried multiple times and failed miserably. Maybe because the souls were not a natural extension of her being. Maybe because they were new to her, there was a certain way to deal with them, and she hadn't yet found that way. Maybe because they constantly fought her. Whatever the reason, she needed their…gag…permission to use them.

A chorus of
No, no, no,
rang out. As always.

“I'll be careful with him,” she added. “I'll force him
to sit still until the madness passes.” If she could. Sometimes the madness overtook
her,
and she forgot her purpose.

Nope, sorry. The guys and I—wait, the guys and me—wait, how do you say that properly?

“Does it matter?” she snapped.

Anyway,
Caleb went on smoothly,
we talked, and we're not gonna help you use us. That might create a permanent connection, you know? Like a bond. You're hot, and I'd love to bond with you, and in fact, I voted in your favor, but majority rules and we're not staying any longer than necessary. Now about that shower…

“Congratulations on your little talk. If he's hurt, you have only yourselves to blame.”

No, we'll know who to blame. Because you're right. This will not end well,
Elijah, the death predictor, suddenly chimed in. He never had anything good to say. At least, not to her. Caleb snorted.
Bite your tongue, E. Showers always end well if you know what you're doing.

Aden shook her, his grip tightening in a demand for her attention. “Thirsty,” he repeated, clearly expecting her to do something about it.

“I know.” So. She was on her own. Foolish souls. Not only did they refuse to help her, they stole her
concentration, preventing her from helping herself. “But you can't drink from me. I haven't yet fully recovered from the last time.” Especially considering
last time
had happened roughly five minutes ago. He shouldn't have been this desperate.

“Thirsty.”

“Listen to me, Aden. This isn't you, but Chompers.” Such a silly name for such a ferocious beast. “Fight him. You have to keep fighting him.”

You won't get through to him,
Elijah told her. The soul's new nickname, she decided—The Good News Bear.
I've seen this encounter play out. Aden's lost in there.

“Oh, just shut up!” she snapped. “I don't need your commentary. And you know what else? You've been wrong before! Aden didn't die after he was stabbed. Either time!”

Yes, and look where that got you both.

Stating the obvious. Such a low blow. “Shut. Up.”

A flicker of sympathy in those petal-toned eyes before the cold, frothing hunger returned. “Thirsty. Drink. Now.” Aden flashed his teeth at her just before diving for her neck. On some level, he knew he couldn't reach her vein, but at this stage, that never stopped him from trying.

Victoria gripped him by the hair and flung him.
Gentle, gentle.
He flew across the cave into the far wall,
and she winced. Oops. Dust and debris exploded around him, drifting to her as he slid to the ground. She sucked in a much-needed breath, then had to cough to clear her throat of the rubble.

Hey! Be careful with our boy,
Julian commanded.
I plan to move back inside him, you know.

“I'm trying to be careful,” she wanted to scream. How had Aden dealt with these beings all his life? They chattered constantly, commenting on
everything.
Julian found fault with her every action, Caleb took nothing seriously and Elijah was the biggest downer of all time.

To be honest, she would have more fun overdosing on sedatives than speaking to him.

Where were human junkies when you needed to top yourself off?

Aden stood, his gaze locked on her.

How can I stop him without harming him?
She'd wondered this a thousand times before, but the solution had never come to her. Surely there was a way to facilitate—

Hey, I kinda feel funny,
Caleb announced, his voice booming as if there had never been anyone or anything more important than him and his feelings in the history of the world.

Will you give it a rest? You've got a funny feeling in your invisible pants and the only way to fix you is for Victoria to undress. We
know! Julian snapped.
Why don't you do our
boy Aden a solid and stop trying to play Naughty Shower Time with his girlfriend?

Victoria clawed at her ears, trying to reach the souls and finally kill them. They were so loud. So
there,
like shadows slinking through her skull, untouchable, darting just out of reach every time she closed in.

No, I'm not horny.
A laborious pause.
Well, I am, but that's not what I'm talking about right now. I…I think I'm…dizzy.

Caleb was telling the truth. That dizziness was now spilling into her, and she wavered on her feet.

Hey,
Julian said a second later.
Me, too. What did you do to us, princess?

Of course he blamed her, even though it wasn't her fault. The dizziness always hit them a few minutes before they returned to Aden, and they were always surprised.

Here comes Aden,
Elijah warned her.
I hope you're prepared for the changes about to unfold. I know I'm not.

Hey, don't help the enemy!
Julian growled.

“I'm not the—” The scent of Aden's blood hit her first, potent and tantalizing, making her mouth water, reminding her of
her
body's needs. Then, suddenly, she was falling, hard hands pushing her down. Cold rock scraped against her back, and she gasped out the rest of her sentence “—enemy.”

“Feed.” Aden's weight pinned her, his teeth chewing at her neck a moment later. She latched onto his hair again, but this time, when she tugged, he bit down harder—
into
her vein. Her skin actually split open.

Never before had something like this happened, and a scream of pain tore from her. A scream that died as quickly as it had begun. Her throat clogged as the dizziness returned, accompanied by a tidal wave of unexpected fatigue. Her muscles quivered, and she thought she heard Caleb moan.

Caleb. Reminded of his presence, she gasped out his name, willing to beg the soul to help her now. “Let me possess—”

His second moan cut her off.
What's happening to me?

“Concentrate. Please. Let me—”

Am I dying? I don't want to die. I'm too young to die.

He and his babbling would be no help. Nor would the others. Julian and Elijah were moaning, too. But they weren't leaving her, weren't returning to Aden. And then their moans became shouts, fogging her mind, derailing her good sense.

Flashes in her mind, like a camera switching views. Her bodyguard, Riley—tall and dark-haired, smiling with wicked humor. Her sisters, Lauren and Stephanie, both blonde and beautiful, teasing her mercilessly.
Her mother, Edina, with black-as-a-midnight-sky hair swinging as she twirled. Her long-lost brother, Sorin, a warrior she'd been commanded to forget, she'd
tried
to forget as he'd walked away and never looked back.

More flashes, the camera revealing only black and white now. Shannon, her roommate, kind, caring, concerned. No, not her roommate, but Aden's. Ryder, the boy Shannon had wanted to date, even though he'd rejected him. Dan, beloved owner of the D and M ranch, her home for the last few months. No, not
her
home. Aden's.

Her own thoughts and memories were blending with Aden's, forming a hazy cloud around her. Then the flashes disappeared all together. She was weakening…fighting the need to sleep…

Come on, Tepes! You're royalty. You can do this!

A pep talk courtesy of herself, one that worked. She
could
do this.

Determination driving her, she managed to tug on Aden's hair, lifting his head. Unfortunately, she wasn't strong enough to throw him. Not this time. And for a moment, their gazes clashed. His eyes were red now, glowing. Demonic. Blood dripped from his mouth—her blood—and splashed onto her chin. Blood she desperately needed to keep.

She should have been frightened. Because, as she looked up at the fiend she had created, she saw her death. A death that made sense. Elijah had claimed Aden was now lost to the beast, and Elijah was never wrong. And yet…

Blood…her own hunger rose again, filling her up, becoming all that she knew, strengthening her. She would not be taken down without feasting on
him,
she decided.

Her fangs sharpened as she surged up to bite. Only, she could not pierce his skin. Something blocked her. What blocked her? She looked, determined to remove the obstacle, but she saw only the bronze of Aden's skin. Nothing covered that hammering pulse.

Taste, taste, must taste.
A mantra she couldn't blame on the souls.

Snarling, she released his hair and clawed at him. A tiny cut, that's all she needed to make. So easy, but her nails failed her as thoroughly as her teeth.

“Feed.” Aden dove back down. Clearly, her jugular was his favorite chew toy.

TASTE.
She surged back up, trying to bite him again.

“Taste,” the beast said, as if he'd heard her thought and mirrored it.

They rolled on the floor in a bid for dominance. Whenever she managed to toss him away, he always flew back in less than a blink. They crashed into the walls, slammed into the dais and splashed in the shallow puddles of water.

Whoever won would feed. Whoever lost would die, drained, the circle of life proven once again. For only the strongest could survive; everyone else became a snack. Until Aden, her every action had been motivated by that principle. After him, she had fought to protect those weaker than herself. Fought her instinct to take, to have. Now, she couldn't fight. She wanted. She would have.

All too soon, however, Aden pinned her, and this time, he held her down so firmly, she was unable to wrestle her way free. Their bodies rubbed together as she still continued to struggle, their limbs tangling. Finally, he managed to grab her wrists and brace them over her head.

Game over. She had lost.

She took stock. She was panting, sweating, her neck throbbing, her mind locked on one thought:
TASTETASTETASTE.

Yes.

“Let go,” she snarled.

Above her, Aden stilled. He, too, was panting and sweating. His eyes were still glowing that bright crimson, but now there were flecks of amber mixed with the red. Amber, his natural color. That meant, for once, Elijah had been wrong. Aden
was
in there, still battling the beast for control.

She could do no less.

The thought was a lifeline, and she clung. Victoria concentrated on her breathing, in and out, slow and measured. Voices other than her own began to penetrate her awareness.