Unraveled

That isn’t something to joke about, Julian snapped.

Who’s joking?

Aden hated when they argued, but that was far better than the poetry.

Meg returned with a large plate piled high with brownies. She offered Dan and Brendal first choice, then placed the treats in the middle of the table for the boys. Everyone dove in like starving dogs that had just spotted a meaty bone.

“Now that we’re relaxed, I’d like to ask some personal questions,” Brendal said. She placed her brownie on her plate. “I want to ensure my teachings fulfill your needs. In that regard, I’d like to know what everyone thought of Mr. Thomas.”

“We didn’t have time to get to know him,” Seth said.

Brendal was undeterred. “Then tell me what you think could have happened to him.”

“If he’s missing, shouldn’t you talk to the police?” Ryder asked.

A moment passed in silence, and yet, in those quiet seconds any resistance the boys harbored melted away. Until the last brownie crumb was consumed, they, and even Dan and Meg, speculated about the man’s sudden disappearance. Alien abduction was mentioned. A need for a fresh start. Murder—Aden tried not to squirm—and even a car accident.

“Tell her I’m here, Aden,” Thomas said, speaking to him without animosity for the first time since Brendal had entered the room. Their eyes met, clashed. “Please.”

He almost caved. That please… I can’t, he projected.

“You owe me.” The anger was returning to Thomas’s tone.

Aden shook his head.

Still Thomas persisted. “She might be able to save me.”

So you can kill my girlfriend? No. Not now. Maybe after the witches were dealt with, and only if Thomas swore to drop his quest for vengeance against the royal family. Until then, no deal. So he looked away, silently ending the conversation. Thomas began yelling again, snarling, stomping around, and guilt once again welled inside Aden’s chest.

“Aden?” Dan said, drawing his attention. “Are you agreeable to Ms. Brendal’s suggestion, then?”

“Her suggestion?” He could only imagine what she wanted. His head on a silver platter? His heart in her favorite trinket box? As much as she’d charmed everyone, Aden doubted a single one of them would hesitate to please her.

He searched the boys’ faces. They were peering at him with envy. Except for Shannon and Ryder. Earlier they’d gone to such great pains not to look at each other, but now they were locked in some kind of livid staring contest. Both of their eyes were narrowed, both of their lips thinned with displeasure.

His gaze shifted to the window, but Victoria was no longer there.

“Sure,” he finally said, sweat beading on his brow. “I’m…agreeable.”

“Good.” Dan pushed to his feet, his chair sliding behind him. Everyone but Aden followed suit. The boys gave Brendal one last lingering once-over—Seth even wiggled his brows at her—before shuffling from the main house and back to their bunks. Dan walked to Meg and threw his arm over her shoulders. They waited, watching Aden expectantly.

What was he supposed to do?

“Shall we go, then?” Brendal asked him in that musical voice.

“Uh, sure.” Maybe he should have declined her “suggestion.”

She moved around the table and toward the front door. Aden remained in place for several seconds, peering out the window. Victoria suddenly reappeared and pressed her hand to the glass. If he wasn’t mistaken, someone, a female, stood beside her.

Another date for him? Probably.

Fabulous.

“You’ll need a jacket,” Dan said, prompting him into motion.

He stood. “I’ll be fine.” He walked over to Brendal, who held the front door open for him. Knowing she might attack him helped dull his unnatural fascination with her.

Thomas followed him silently into the night, though the ghost disappeared from view the moment Aden stepped from the porch. For some reason, he was only visible—and aware—in the ranch and bunkhouse, not outside in the elements.

Cold, damp air slithered around Aden, biting at his skin. Should have accepted that jacket. The moon was partially obscured by clouds, and there were no stars to be seen. The insects were eerily silent.

“We’ll begin our tour in the far pasture,” she said.

Ah, a tour. That he could do. “I’m not sure why you’d want to see a barn, horses and cows this late in the evening, but come on.” Unless, of course, she’d simply wanted to get Aden alone. “I’ll show you the way.” He uttered a quiet prayer that Victoria wouldn’t follow.

Ten bucks says the woman is gonna try to nail us. And not the good way! Caleb said.

You don’t have ten bucks, Julian reminded him.

Aden will pay.

“If seeing the ranch had been my goal,” Brendal said as they started forward, “I would have chosen one of the other boys.”

“I guessed as much.” The Fae were power-hungry, Victoria had told him. They loved humans—until those humans exhibited signs of their own power. Aden exhibited signs of power. Had she sensed them, or had she figured out who he was and what he’d done?

No. She probably felt the draw of him right now. Without Mary Ann nearby, they all did, all the creatures of this otherworld. Some had called him a beacon in the night, some a chain that tugged without regard. And because he’d possessed Thomas’s body, Aden now knew how cold fairies were inside. Deadly cold. Yet, when Thomas had fought Riley, he’d drawn warmth into him. Delicious warmth. Was that why they craved power? Did power equal warmth?

“You guessed, and yet you came with me anyway.”

“I’m not a coward.” He and Brendal reached the far edge of the pasture, where a wood and wire fence blocked the animals from the surrounding field. Aden had no trouble seeing, despite the darkness, because Brendal now glowed. What the hell? She must have swallowed the sun.

“Do you know what I am, Aden?” she asked, her tone now lacking any hint of emotion. She rounded on him, her dress—flowing and white, something girls probably wore to the beach to cover their swimsuits—dancing around her ankles. “You haven’t remarked on my radiance.”

To lie or not? Why not tell the truth? he thought next. In this, at least. He knew better than most how hard it was to tell truth from lies when the two were intertwined. “I know,” he said, and settled atop the top post of the fence, as if he were relaxed, as if this conversation was no big deal. Casual disregard—rather than fear—would throw her off.

Was Victoria nearby? He couldn’t see her.

Brendal nodded with satisfaction. “Good. We can skip the formalities. My brother’s final report said that you were the reason we were here. That you were the one who summoned us. So here we are. Why? Why did you want us here?”

Careful. A warning from all the souls.

“I didn’t, I don’t,” he said. “It was an accident, summoning you.”

She arched the perfect line of a brow. “Yet that accident summoned many others, as well. Our enemies. Enemies to all humankind.”

“Yes.” He’d argue that vampires weren’t an enemy to humankind, though. They fed off humans, yes, but humans fed off animals. What was the difference? And no, he wasn’t calling himself an animal. It was simply the circle of life.

“Did you hope to start a war? We have not been together in centuries, and the last time we were, our numbers—all our numbers—dwindled significantly.”

“I swear to you, I don’t want a war to erupt. Especially here. But I can’t help what I am and what I can do