Intertwined

and honest with her always. You promised the same, she thought, but look at her now. Lying about study groups, sneaking around, reading patient files. Guilt was suddenly swallowing her up.

“I don’t want you hanging out with that boy, Mary Ann.”

The out-of-the-blue statement surprised her; the sternness of his voice jolted her into speechlessness.

“Aden Stone is dangerous.” He set the paper down and stared over at her, his eyes devoid of emotion. “I don’t know what he’s doing in Crossroads or how you met him, but I do know he’s no one you should trust. Are you listening to me?”

Nothing in the journal, upsetting as the entries had been to her, had explained such an intense reaction. She cleared her throat. “Yes.” She was. But that didn’t mean she’d obey. Aden was a part of her life she would not give up. Ever.

“If I have to, I’ll call the school and—”

She slapped her palms against the table. “Don’t you dare! You would get him in trouble and they would pull him from class, then shove him back into a mental institution. A place he doesn’t belong and you know it! Tell me you won’t do that to him. Tell me you aren’t that cruel.”

She’d never spoken to him like that, and he blinked over at her in astonishment.

“Tell me!” Once more she slammed her hands against the table, rattling the dishes.

“I won’t,” he said softly, “but I need you to tell me you won’t hang out with him anymore.”

“Why?”

He pressed his lips together, refusing to answer.

The doorbell rang.

Her dad frowned. “Who’s that?”

“I don’t know.” She unfolded from her chair and strode to the front door, happy for the reprieve. When she opened it and saw the visitor, her heartbeat picked up speed. Riley. He looked as rugged and ruthless as always, wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, his dark hair unkempt from the wind.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder to ensure that they were alone. They weren’t.

“Yes, what are you doing here?” her dad asked rudely from behind her. “And who are you?”

Unperturbed, Riley inclined his head in greeting. “Hello, Dr. Gray. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Dad, this is Riley.” Keeping the elation out of her voice was a struggle. “He’s new to my school. I’ve been showing him around and stuff.”

“Does he—”

“No,” she interjected, knowing he meant to ask if Riley hung with Aden. “He doesn’t.” He hangs with me.

“So I ask again, what are you doing here?”

“Dad!”

“It’s fine, Mary Ann.” To her dad, Riley said, “I’m here to pick up your daughter for school.”

“She likes to walk.”

“Not today. I’ll be right back. Behave,” she said to her dad. She raced into her bedroom, grabbed her backpack and soared back down the stairs. Her dad and Riley were watching each other silently.

She kissed her dad’s check, noticed that he appeared older than he ever had before, with lines of tension branching from his eyes. “Bye. Love you.”

“I love you, too.” He didn’t say anything else, didn’t try to stop her. She was glad. She didn’t know how she would have reacted or what she would have said. She needed Riley right now. Her dad had answers, but Riley had those comforting arms. Inside his shiny red sports car, she buckled.

When they rounded the street corner and were out of sight, he twined their fingers together. Her world suddenly felt right again.

“Where’d you go?” she asked.

“Had to see to Victoria, shower and change.”

“Oh.”

“I hated to leave, though.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

Goose bumps broke out over her skin. A little bit down the road, the trees thinning, she realized he wasn’t leading her toward the school. She frowned. “Where are we going?”

He flicked her a grim smile. “You need to learn how to survive in this new world you’ve found yourself in. You also need a distraction.”

“What does that mean? About surviving.”

“You’ll see.”

CHAPTER 18

Victoria skipped school. So did Mary Ann, and so did Riley. What kind of students ditched class when it was only their second day at school? And what about supposed rule-follower Mary Ann? She sure was ditching a lot lately.

Were the three of them together? Aden wondered throughout the crapfest of a day. A day that had started with Ozzie threatening to kill him again and worsened when Shannon, coughing and weak, had insisted on coming to school anyway and Aden had practically had to carry him to the building. And then to discover that his friends were gone…

Now he desperately wanted to leave, to head out and look for them, but couldn’t. Not if he wanted to return. A single ditch, and Dan would send him packing. Victoria could fix that for him, of course, but only if she still wanted to hang out with him. After last night—I told you to stay away from me and I meant it, she’d said after spying the male vampire in the window—he couldn’t be sure.

Who had the guy been? Why the sudden change in Victoria? He had no answers. And hadn’t Victoria wanted to protect him from the creatures now in town? Guess that had changed, too.

What made the day even odder was the way everyone waved and smiled at him as if he was their best friend. Guys patted him on the shoulder, girls flashed their pearly whites and giggled as if they were too nervous to talk to him but wanted to be near him all the same. Why?

As if reading his mind, a senior walked by and said, “Way to put Tucker in his place, man,” with a nod of approval.

Ahh. Now he understood (the welcome reception, at least). No one had liked Tucker, but they’d pretended to, simply to keep the tyrant from turning all that evil on them. Now they thought Aden was their savior, that he would destroy Tucker if necessary.

No pressure, he thought dryly.

All through chemistry, geometry, and Spanish he half listened to his teachers, half listened to his companions, who were now awake and no longer drugged into a stupor by the meds—though truth be told, he had been tempted to take them this morning. During that third class, John O’Conner once more appeared beside him, crouching at his desk.

“Why do you always ambush me here?”

“Because I had this class with Chloe. Speaking of, have you talked to Chloe yet?”

Aden spared him only the briefest of glances. He looked so real. Or perhaps because he was so recently dead. Perhaps because he’d had a power of his own when he’d been alive.

Aden nodded at the rightness of the thought. That made sense. He drew vampires and werewolves—and goblins, fairies and witches, apparently—so why not ghosts who’d been “gifted” during life? Or did he draw all ghosts, gifted or not?

Surely not. Thousands of people died every minute of every day. If all ghosts came to him, he would never see anyone or anything else.

He wanted to question John, but they were in class and surrounded. He’d just have to do so stealthily, he decided, so that the teacher and students around him wouldn’t notice.