Twisted

Pieces of Victoria’s psyche. Inside him. Driving him, changing him. Right or wrong? True or false? “How do you know this?”

I’m all-knowing, remember? The self-deprecating tone held a layer of truth and dread. “Not anymore. Remember?”

The dancing woman stopped, laughed, such a tinkling sound—he loved that sound, hated that sound—and pushed back her hood to look directly at him. Her face was lovely, delicate and hauntingly sweet.

“There you are, my darling. What are you doing, sitting so far away? Come and dance with me.”

Darling? Oh, yes, he knew her. Should know her, but still couldn’t quite place her. His brain kept getting caught up on the words mother and exasperating. She wasn’t his mother—was she?—and he wasn’t sure why she exasperated him.

“I don’t know how to dance,” he told her.

“I’ll take the blame, I swear.”

He blinked in confusion. She wanted to take the blame for his lack of skill?

If you get up and dance right now, I’ll never forgive you, Caleb said. You’ll look like an idiot, and in turn make us look like idiots.

You’re unwillingness to groove surprises me, C-man. Julian chuckled. Flailing around would probably look like some kind of mating ritual, luring the ladies. Or something.

Aden. Dude. If you’re thinking about dancing, you should just get up and dance. Caleb’s abrupt switch was almost comical. It’s all about the bump and grind.

Another tinkling laugh, and the woman pulled her hood back up. “Very well, my darling, be that way. I’ll dance on my own.” The twirling started up again. “But you’re missing out, I promise you.”

“Aden.” The pureness of Victoria’s voice captured his attention. “You summoned me?”

He forced himself to look up. She stood just off to the side, the wolves flanking her. The sun framed her, creating an angelic halo around her. She’d pulled her dark hair into a ponytail and wore a black robe, as usual, only this one boasted long sleeves and a coarser, thicker material. She looked…human, so beautifully human, her cheeks and nose a bright pink, her eyes watering from the cold.

“Do you know that woman?” He motioned to where—she was gone. The dancing female had spun her way out of the backyard.

“Who?” Victoria asked.

“Never mind.” The scent of her hit him, as sweet as she looked. Gums, throbbing. Teeth, aching. Mouth, watering.

And wouldn’t you know it? The buzzing returned to his head, followed by a muted cry. The same muted cry he’d heard last night. Small, almost whining. Grumbling for attention. Like a newborn baby.

What was that? Julian demanded.

“Probably just echoes from before, in the cave,” he said, the words slurred. God. His tongue felt as big as a golf ball. His gaze latched onto Victoria’s thumping pulse. Mmm.

“What?” Victoria asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

This is dangerous, Elijah said. Look away from her. You can’t drink from her. What if you become addicted to her again?

Or worse, what if there’s another switch and we end up back inside her? Julian’s fear was palpable.

Am I the only one with a sense of adventure? Caleb asked. Do it! Drink her!

Ignore him. Drink from someone else, Elijah com manded.

But…Aden didn’t want to drink from anyone else, even though his stomach was twisting painfully, even though he’d decided to send Victoria away.

His hunger must have overridden his good sense because he now wanted to keep her with him. And what he wanted, he got. Always. Sighing, he stood and held out his hand, another plaintive cry resounding in his head before he could speak.

Seriously, what is that? Julian’s fear gave way to irritation. Caleb, are you acting like a brat again, pretending to be a baby?

You know I hold my breath to get what I want. I don’t whine.

Uh, hate to break it to you, but you don’t have any breath, Elijah said.

And yet it works for me. Why would I change my methods?

Aden tuned them out as best he could. “Walk with me,” he said to Victoria. She hadn’t taken his hand, was merely peering down at it, unsure.

Hope flickered in her blue, blue eyes as she glanced up. “Really?”

As I was saying earlier, you do like her, Elijah said, voice pushing through his mental blocks. Don’t forget that. Any negative feelings toward her are not your own. Okay? Yes?

Why the insistence?

Victoria placed her hand in his, and ignoring the souls was no longer an issue. The princess became his sole focus.

Her scent did more than envelop him, it invaded him, consumed him, and his mouth watered a little more. Just then, he really liked her. Her softness, her warmth—not hot, not anymore, but warm and sweet. Her…everything.

“Scout ahead and make sure we’ll be alone,” he commanded the wolves before leading Victoria out of the backyard and into the forest. They bounded in front of him and soon disappeared. No howls of warning were forthcoming, so he continued on.

What he would do with Victoria, well, he wasn’t sure about that, either. But they would find out together. For better or worse.

TEN

WAS THIS WALK FOR business or pleasure?

Victoria strolled hand in hand with Aden for a long while, just as they’d done before The Incident, as she was now calling their last minutes in the cave, silent—if she didn’t count the now-constant, though gradually quieting, roaring in the back of her head—moving farther and farther away from the mansion. And protection.

She’d never feared Aden before, and really, she didn’t fear him now. It was just, he was so different, she didn’t know what to expect from him. At least she’d been smart enough to choose a winter robe to somewhat fight the early morning chill. Something she’d never had to do before. In fact, she’d had to borrow the stupid, constrictive thing from a human blood-slave.

Weather had never before mattered to her. Temperature had never before mattered. Now, she was freakishly cold. All. The. Time. She’d tossed and turned all night, shivering, her teeth chattering.

“I like it out here,” Aden said.

Casual conversation. Fabulous. “I’m surprised.” The trees were sparse, their limbs gnarled, offering very little shade overhead. Not that Victoria needed much shade. Her now vulnerable skin loved the sun, soaking in every ray, though still not warming her.

“Yeah. No prying eyes, nowhere for anyone to hide.”

Anyone—like her? “Should I be scared?”

“I don’t know.”

His honesty relaxed her enough to leave her smiling. “Just warn me if you decide to attack.”

“All right.” A moment passed. “Here’s your warning. I’m hungry.”

Goodbye relaxation. Tensing, she waited for him to pounce. When he didn’t, she cleared her throat and