Twisted

Fingers crossed, Tucker was victim one.

She found herself wondering what demons tasted like and had to shake away the thought. See? She couldn’t control this newest aspect of her nature. Bile burned a path up her throat. She needed a distraction. Big-time.

Mary Ann swiveled in her chair, leaned back and rested her hands on her middle. Peering up at her ex through the thick shield of her lashes, she said, “Tucker, I’m no good for you. You should leave while you can.” He’d get one warning. Only one.

He frowned. “What does that mean?”

“You saw what I did that night.” A statement not a question. And she didn’t have to specify what night she meant.

“Yeah.” His frown disappeared, a high-wattage grin taking its place. “And it was impressive as hell.”

Impressive? Hardly. Her cheeks suffused with heat. “If you stay, I’ll do that to you. I won’t mean to—at least, that’s what I’ll tell anyone who questions me—but I will.”

The person next to her, a college-aged girl, shushed her. “Trying to work here.”

“Trying to converse here,” Tucker said, flashing a scowl at her. “You don’t like it, you can move.”

She moved, her ponytail angrily swishing back and forth.

Mary Ann fought a small wave of jealousy. She’d always wanted to be strong and assertive, and while she was working on it, she wasn’t there yet. For Tucker, it came so effortlessly.

Tucker studied her, one brow arched. “Liked that, did you?”

Took a Herculean effort, but she maintained a neutral expression. “No.”

“Liar.” He rolled his eyes, then rested his elbows on his knees. “Back to what we were discussing.” He threw the last word at the girl, now four desks away, before refocusing on Mary Ann. “Let’s say I like to live on the edge, and the fact that you could one day hurt me revs my engine. But guess what, baby doll? You need me. Riley wasn’t the only one chasing you, you know.”

“What?” That was news to her.

“Yep. Two girls. Both blondes. You kinda fought them before.” He gave a low, raspy wolf-whistle. “And BTW, they’re hot.”

The bile gave her throat another good singeing. “Were they wearing robes? Red robes?” If so. “Yes. You saw them this go-round?”

“No.” But hot blondes she’d “fought” before were rare. So, she knew exactly whom he spoke of and suddenly wanted to vomit.

“Too bad. You could have put in a good word for me. Because, yeah, I’d do ‘em.”

“A good word?” she scoffed, though inside she trembled. “When you’d do anyone? Please.” The blondes were witches, no question. Witches who had escaped her wrath. Witches who now hated her for destroying their brethren. Witches with power beyond imagining.

Mmm, power …

The fear momentarily left her, and her mouth watered. Witches tasted so good.

When she realized what thoughts were pouring through her mind, she slapped herself on the cheek. Bad Mary Ann! Bad!

“Okay, what was that about?”

She ignored Tucker to concentrate on her new top priority. More wards. If witches were on her tail, she needed to be ready for their attack. And they would attack. New wards would protect her from specific spells they might cast. Spells of death, destruction and even mind control.

Yeah, the Red Robed Wretches could go there.

“Hey, you’re getting paler by the second. There’s no reason for you to worry. I sent them away just like I sent the wolf away. Oh, and I sent the other group chasing you away, too. A mix of males and females with sparkly skin.”

Please, no. Not—

“Fairies,” Tucker said. “They were definitely fairies.”

Confirmation. Wonderful. As many as she had drained, they had to want revenge just as badly as the witches. Tucker might have sent them away, but they’d be back. All of them.

“So what do you come here every day to read about, huh?” Tucker asked, changing the subject. To give her time to calm down? To distract her? “Tell me, and maybe I can help. More, that is. Help more.”

Subtle. “It involves Aden, and secrets he’s shared with me. And I am not sharing those secrets with you.”

A moment passed in silence. Then, “Secrets, secrets, let’s see. There are so many to choose from, I don’t know where to start.”

“What do you mean?”

“Vlad had me research Aden before I stabbed him, and guess what? You’re not the only one who’s good at researching.”

Heart thundering with a storm of dread, she whipped upright. “What did you learn?” Aden did not like anyone knowing about him. He was embarrassed, but also cautious. If the wrong person found out about him—and actually believed the truth—he could be used, tested, locked away, killed. Take your pick.

Tucker held up one hand and began ticking off items like he was reading from a list. “He has three souls trapped inside his head. He used to have four, and one of them was your mother—your real mother, not the aunt who raised you as if you were hers—but Eve’s gone now. What else? Oh, yeah. He’s now king of the vampires. Until Vlad decides to step in and take the crown back.”

Right on all counts. Her mouth went dry, and she croaked out, “How did you learn all that?”

“Honey, I can listen to any conversation, anytime, and no one ever knows I’m there. And I listened to a lot of yours.”

“You spied on me.”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

How many times? What all had he seen? She popped her jaw. Perhaps, if she was never able to drain him, she’d just stab him the same way he’d stabbed Aden. “What makes you think Vlad will succeed?”

Gray eyes went flat. “Please. As if there can be any other outcome. I researched Vlad, too, and he is a warrior who has won countless battles and survived for thousands of years. He’s flat-out mean, underhanded and has no concept of honor. What is Aden? Nothing but a bag of meat to a guy like Vlad. Why? Because Aden will want to fight fair and will actually care about collateral damage, both of which will handicap him.”

Phrased like that, there was no denying the truth. She needed all the help she could get for her original mission. Even from someone like Tucker.

Mary Ann fell back into her chair, closed her eyes for a moment and breathed. Just breathed. In and out, trying to relax, to come to grips with what she was about to do. If Tucker betrayed her, she would have done more harm than good to her friend. If he didn’t, well, he could actually help keep Aden alive.

So. No contest. She had to do this.

“Okay,” she said, meeting his gaze dead-on. “Here it is, the whole story, the unvarnished truth.”

He rubbed his hands together with glee.

That didn’t comfort her and, in fact, intensified her tension. But she said, “A few weeks ago, Riley and Victoria gave Aden and me a list. Because, on December twelfth, seventeen years ago—”

“Wait. December twelfth, your birthday?”