Twisted

Aden’s first thought had nothing to do with Vlad, fighting Vlad or having no hope of winning against a man like that. His mind concentrated solely on Victoria. Knowing she had endured this undid him.

He wanted to run to the girl she’d been, whisk her away, protect her from such horrors. The man who’d just been gutted was the man Edina had attempted to run away with, leaving her daughter behind. The daughter who then had to clean up her mother’s mess. Literally.

His poor Victoria. Once he would have placed good money on the fact that no one could have a childhood worse than his. Hers had been, though. In comparison, he’d been raised in heaven by doting angels.

The scene disappeared, there one minute, a cloud of vapor the next.

“Aden,” Victoria whispered, shaking him into the present. “Someone’s coming.”

He rapid-fire blinked into focus as the front door of the house creaked open, Tonya peeking out. He hadn’t summoned her, yet here she was. Checking to make sure he was gone most likely, but whatever. He’d take what he could get.

“What do you want?” she snapped when she spotted him. She didn’t step out on the porch, but kept the screen between them. “Why won’t you leave?”

Aden unfolded from the swing. “My friends visited you, asked you about your husband—”

“Yes, and I told the girl not to return.”

“And so she hasn’t. I’m here.”

“Sorry, but I have nothing to say to you, either.”

She made to close the door, and that’s when Aden caved. Sick of waiting, sick of questions without answers and no longer willing to view his new gift as a curse, he said, “Leave the door open,” putting all of his want into the words.

Victoria had loved her Voice Voodoo, but she’d given it up. For him. Aden wouldn’t make light of that anymore.

Tonya’s eyes immediately glazed over, and she left the door alone.

Victoria stood beside him and twined their fingers, offering comfort.

“Your brother-in-law died, and he left no family behind. Do you have any photographs of him? Any personal effects?”

Silence.

“Tell her to tell you,” Victoria instructed.

“Tell me what I wish to know,” he added, wanting it, wanting it so badly.

“I—” Though Tonya’s eyes were still glazed, she found the strength to deny him. “I can’t tell you.”

A frowning Victoria shook her head. “That’s impossible. You have to tell him. He commanded you to. I don’t know anything, but even I want to obey him.”

“I…I can’t.”

Slowly Aden disengaged from Victoria and approached Tonya, doing his best not to spook her. Tonya remained in place. Though he was younger than she was, he was taller, a lot taller, and he had to look down… down…to meet that still-glazed stare. That’s when he saw something besides a glassy sheen swimming in those gray depths. Something dark, like a shadow.

Julian saw it, too, and gasped in dismay. What is that?

“Don’t know.” Aden drew on every ounce of his need for answers. He let that need churn in his voice box, until his throat nearly steamed from the burn of it, before speaking again. “You will tell me what I want to know, Tonya Smart. Now.”

The shadows coagulated, then broke apart and scattered, and Tonya relaxed a little. “Yes. I do have photographs and personal effects.”

Answers, that easily. It was as powerful and addictive as he’d suspected. As powerful and addictive as a vampire’s bite. That wasn’t going to stop him. “Bring them to me. Give them to me.”

“Bring. Give. Yes.” She disappeared inside the house.

Half an hour ticked by, and Aden began to worry that he’d lost her, that she’d shaken out of his mental hold and taken off out the back door, never to return. But then, as suddenly as she’d left, she was back in the doorway, holding a box out to him.

It. Had. Worked.

He claimed the thing with a relieved, “Thank you.”

Julian was dancing through his head. I can’t believe this! There could be a picture of me in there.

Aden balanced the box with one hand, used the other to grab Victoria and headed back to the motel to study what was inside. Hopefully, Riley and Mary Ann were just as lucky.

Or not.

TWENTY-SIX

RILEY KICKED IN THE front door, wooden shards raining in every direction. No alarm sounded. That didn’t mean one hadn’t been tripped, but screw it. Last time he’d been in this neighborhood, playing it safe had almost killed him. Had killed his animal. So, no more playing it safe.

His hands balled into fists as he stomped into the house. He couldn’t think about the past right now. He’d rage and destroy everything in sight. “We’ve got five minutes.” After that, the authorities could arrive. “Let’s make the most of it.”

Mary Ann rushed in behind him. “So, just grab what I can?”

Joe and Paula Stone supposedly lived there. So, yeah, grabbing what they could was the plan. A plan they’d gone over several times already. He stalked down the hallway without bothering to reply. She knew the answer, she was just nervous. He wished he could comfort her, but just then, he was having trouble comforting himself.

There were only two doorways along this route. He entered the first. Master bedroom? Maybe. Small, sparse, with only a bed, a nightstand and a dresser. On the bed, the covers were in disarray, as if they’d been shoved away in a hurry. A cup on the nightstand was tipped to its side, the contents—water, from the looks of it—had dripped to the floor, where clothes were piled. The dresser’s drawers were partly open. The only window was covered by thick black paint.

Clearly no one had been here for a while. Probably since the morning he and Mary Ann had nearly had sex in the house across the street, and both their lives had changed forever.

If so, well, Joe and Paula Stone had run. For good. And if they’d run, that meant they’d known Riley and Mary Ann were coming. But how could they have known? And why run? What had they feared?

“Riley,” Mary Ann called.

He followed the sound of her voice and was soon standing beside her in the second bedroom. Toys littered the floor, a fact that momentarily rendered him speechless. “They have a kid?”

“Either that, or they have a home day care.”

“A day care that caters strictly to girls? No.” There was nothing masculine in the room. No blue, no race cars, no action figures. Just pink, stuffed animals and dolls.

“Do you think…”

That Aden has a sister? “Maybe.” Probably. And what a way to find out. He thought back to the couple, to the truck, but didn’t recall seeing a car seat. That didn’t mean the girl hadn’t been with them. “Just…” What? He looked for a clock, couldn’t find one. How were they on time? “Go to the kitchen, go through all the drawers. Grab any kind of bill you find. Anything with a name.”

“Okay.” She didn’t run off, but stood there. “Riley, I—”

“I can’t talk about it. Just go,” he said and returned to the master bedroom before she could say anything else. Trying to force his mind to a Happy Place, he dug through the closet, every drawer in the nightstand, then searched under the mattress and bed. Nothing personal had been left behind.

Figured.