“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?
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-the-pieces-as- fish-bait.
“Dad,” she said at the exact moment he said, “Mary Ann.”
They peered at each other for a moment, and then grinned. It was the first easy moment they’d shared in weeks, and it was…nice.
“You go first,” she told him. He was a doctor, a clinical psychologist, and he was tricky as hell. With only a few words, he could get her to spill her feelings without her realizing she’d even opened her stupid mouth. But she’d chance a spilling today because she had no idea how to kick things off.
He heaped a few pancakes onto his plate. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. For every lie. For everything. And that I did it to protect you.”
A good start. She followed his lead and filled her plate, then proceeded to push the food around, pretending to eat. “To protect me from…?”
“The stigma of thinking your own mother was unbalanced. The thought that you had somehow…that you had…”
“Killed her?” The words croaked from Mary Ann’s suddenly tight throat.
“Yes,” he whispered. “You didn’t, you know. It wasn’t your fault.”
Her real mother, Anne—known to Aden as Eve—had died giving birth to her. That happened sometimes, right? No reason for her father to blame her. But then, he didn’t know the whole truth. He didn’t know that Mary Ann muted paranormal abilities.
She had only just learned of it herself, and all
If not for Aden, she never would have discovered even that. He was the biggest paranormal magnet of all time. (And if he wasn’t, he should be. ’Cause anyone who was stronger—shudder.) Her mother had weakened each day of her pregnancy, little Mary Ann literally sucking the life right out of her. And then, at the moment of her birth, Anne/Eve had simply slipped away.
Right into Aden, Mary Ann thought with a sigh. Aden, who had been born on the same day, in the same hospital. Aden, who had also drawn three other human souls—ghosts—right into his head.
Only, Anne/Eve hadn’t remembered Mary Ann right away, her memories wiped when she’d entered Aden. Once they’d figured everything out, her mom had been granted the thing she’d wanted most in life, that which she’d been denied by her death. A single day with Mary Ann. And once her mom had gotten her wish, she’d vanished. Never to be seen or heard from again.
Her dad didn’t know any of that, either, and Mary Ann wasn’t going to tell him. He wouldn’t believe her. He would think she was as “unbalanced” as her real mom had been.
“Mary Ann?” her dad prompted. “Please. Tell me how you’re feeling. Tell me what you thought when I—”
The doorbell rang, saving him from finishing and her from having to form a reply. Heart dancing wildly, she popped to her feet. Riley. He was here. “I’ll get it,” she said in a rush.
“Mary Ann.”
But she was already racing from the kitchen to the front door. The moment that thick cherry wood swung open, Riley visible through the netted screen, her stomach calmed completely.
He smiled his bad boy smile, half wicked, half
“Hey.” Yep.
Wait. Had she just given him a total body scan? Yep. Cheeks heating, she brought her gaze back to his face. Clearly, he was trying not to laugh.
“Do you approve?” he asked.
The heat intensified. “Yes. But I wasn’t done,” she added. He wasn’t beautiful in a male model kind of way, but he was ruggedly appealing, with a slightly crooked nose—probably from being broken so many times—and a strong jaw. And she had once kissed him, right on those gorgeous lips.
She was ready. More than ready. That was the most fun her tongue had ever had.
He opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it closed. Footsteps echoed behind her, and she turned. Her dad approached, her backpack dangling from his arm. She closed the distance between them, claimed the pack and stood on her tiptoes, kissing his cheek before she could talk herself out it.
“I’ll see you later, Dad. Thanks for breakfast.”
The tension in his face eased just a bit. “See you later, honey. I hope you have a wonderful day.”
“You, too.”
His gaze shifted to the boy still standing in the doorway. “Riley,” he acknowledged stiffly.
They’d met once, but only briefly. Her dad didn’t know it, but Riley was older than he was. By, like, a hundred years. As a shape-shifter, Riley aged slowly. Very,
“Dr. Gray,” Riley returned, respectful as always.
“Mary Ann,” her dad said, attention returning to her. “You might want to take a jacket.”
It was the first of November and every day was a little colder than the last. But she said, “I’ll be fine.” Riley would keep her warm. “I promise.” Pleasantries done, Mary Ann returned to the door, pushed the screen open with her shoulder, and grabbed Riley’s warm, callused hand. She shivered. She loved touching him. As a human
As they walked, he confiscated her pack with his free hand.
“Thanks.”
“Not a problem.”
Morning was in full swing, though the sun was muted behind clouds and the sky a dark gray. Blackbirds were squawking continuously—they stayed in Crossroads all year round—and the air was cool and crisp. Still hand-in- hand, they bypassed the few houses surrounding hers.
Each house was shaped like a train station of yore, with posts, decks, colored wood and sloped two-story roofs. Once they’d passed the very last one, they approached a brick wall about half a mile ahead, a heavily populated forest directly behind it. The trees there were thick, their leaves now yellow and red.
Her dad assumed she and Riley took the long route to school, staying on well-traveled, paved roads.
“I can’t believe how much time has passed since I last saw you,” she said.
“I know. I’m sorry. Feels like eternity to me, too. I wanted to see you, believe me, but more vampires have been popping into the house in preparation for Vlad’s funeral.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, squeezing his hand. “About his death. I know you respected him.”
“Thank you. We have to wait fourteen days before we can hold the funeral—no, thirteen now, I guess. After that, Aden will be officially crowned king.”
“Why wait fourteen days for the funeral?” She did