Victoria linked their hands. Her trembling had intensified, though her expression was serene. Junior gave another roar. Much as Aden despised his…this man—no way he’d refer to the guy as his dad again—he didn’t want Joe to become a Happy Meal for his beast.
“By the way, your conversations with yourself are more interesting now than they were when you were three.” Joe’s gaze shifted to Victoria. “Do you know what his first word was? Lijah. His second was Ebb. His third, Jew-els. His forth, Kayb. Yes, he had a slight pronunciation problem.”
Rather than getting caught up in a distracting conversation with the soul, Aden ignored him. There had been no affection to Joe’s words. Just straight-up facts. No question, Joe was determined to flay him alive and leave him bleeding to death internally.
Murder with words. Smart. You couldn’t be convicted for that.
Victoria tsked under her tongue. “You know, Joe—may I call you Joe?—Aden probably said the names of the souls first because they were better parents and friends to him than you had ever been or would ever be. Food for thought, don’t you think?”
Joe popped his jaw, and Aden squeezed Victoria’s knee, in warning this time, hoping to stop her from lashing out again. However sweetly she lashed out.
“Enough of that. Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Joe said. “Why do you want to travel back through this woman’s life?”
“I don’t.” But why not tell him the rest? Wasn’t like Aden had been doing anything wrong. “However, she was bespelled, and I need to break that spell. To break it, I need to know what spell was used.”
“You can’t tell?” Asked with the same intonation Joe might have used speaking to a special needs kid.
At least he hadn’t called Aden a liar. “You can?”
“Wait. You can time travel into people’s pasts, you’re apparently king of the vampires and wolves, and you can’t hear the echo of the spell cast? Can’t feel the vibe of its magic?”
Again with the special needs voice. “You can?” he repeated. “Wait. Don’t tell me. You have a ward for that, too.”
A shake of his blond head. “Practice.” Then, “Why do you care about this woman anyway? She’s nothing to you.”
“I don’t care.”
Joe frowned. “Then why—”
“I don’t,” he went on, “but one of the souls inside my head does.”
“The souls. Of course. You always did love them best.” Joe turned to Tonya. “Be a dear and fetch me a pen and paper, darlin’. All right?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, slurring the words. “Pen and paper.” She stood and stumbled off, unconcerned, unwitting and in a lot of danger.
Victoria made a play to follow her, but Joe shook the gun “no-no” as if he were shaking his head, and she remained in place. “Aren’t you afraid she’ll run?”
“No,” was all the man said. “The drug opens her mind to suggestion. She’ll do only what she’s told.”
Perhaps not the wisest thing to admit.
Victoria studied him for a moment. “You know, you’re worse than my father, and I didn’t think that was possible. He used to whip me with a cat-o’-nine-tails, you know. Just for fun.”
“Yeah, and who’s your father, honey?”
Aden squeezed her knee in another bid for silence. Much as Joe hated the creatures of the otherworld, he might try and punish Victoria for her origins or even the sins of others.
Joe offered him a small smile, content to let the mystery of her pass. “You picked a damaged girl with daddy issues. I guess we’re more alike than I ever thought possible.”
What was he saying? That Aden’s mother was damaged? That she, too, had daddy issues? So badly he wanted to ask. Despite everything, he was hungry for information about his mother.
The few times he’d allowed himself to think about her, he’d wondered what she looked like, if she’d been as eager to give him away as Joe had been, or if she’d wanted to keep him. Where was she now? What was she doing?
Was she the woman Riley and Mary Ann had seen with Joe that day in his truck?
“Don’t ask,” Joe said stiffly, sensing the direction of his thoughts.
He opened his mouth to do just that, but Tonya returned with the commanded paper and pen and handed them to Joe before reclaiming her seat beside him. Joe balanced the notepad on his thigh and began writing, his other hand never leaving the gun. When he finished he tore off the paper and slapped it against the coffee table.
His gaze met Aden’s, familiar and once again blank. “Now you can’t say I’ve never helped you.”
He couldn’t stop his heart from pounding in surprise or Junior’s consequent slamming against his skull. He slanted his head to the side, motioning to the paper. “What’s that?”
“Ms. Smart’s ticket to free will.”
Truth or lie? Either way, “Father of the Year award, meet Joe Stone. Or not.”
Frowning, Joe leaned into the human. “Tonya, you’re going to be a good girl, sit still and listen to Aden. You’re going to do what he says, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I will do what he says.”
Those eyes lasered into Aden. “Spells are unbreakable unless the caster leaves himself a safe word, I guess is the best way to describe it. I can hear the spell this Daniel person cast inside my head, and he absolutely left himself a way out. Probably in case
He would not thank the man. Too little, too late.
“Don’t try to find me, Aden, and don’t try to find your mother. I’m sure your friends told you about the toys they found in the house. Yes, you have a little sister. No, you cannot see her. She’s not like you, and you’ll only bring her pain and suffering.”
Yeah, they’d told him about the girl, but hearing the words—
“That’s why I’m here,” Joe went on, uncaring of the injuries he inflicted. “To tell you nothing good will ever come of your search for them.”
“You didn’t kill me, and I didn’t kill you,” Joe said. “Let’s leave it at that and parts ways. Forever.”
“At least give him a picture of his mother, his sister,” Victoria said, sympathetic to Aden in a way only she could be.
“No. Cutting all ties is best. Believe me.” With that, Joe stood and strode from the living room. Though he did pause in the arched doorway for several heartbeats, as if he had something more to say, but in the end, he didn’t. He left, the front door slamming shut behind him.
How could Joe do that to him? Let him go like that? Again. The most disturbing question of all, though—what would life have been like if Joe had actually loved him and kept him around? If Joe had trained him?
Junior nearly busted his eardrums with his next screech.
Tonya remained in her seat, unaffected.
Victoria threw her arms around him, settled herself in his lap and hugged him tight. “I’m so sorry. He doesn’t deserve you.”
