Twisted

She wanted to be important to someone. And had been. To Aden. Since the first moment he’d spotted her, he’d made her feel special. Now.

Her stomach jumbled as she stepped beside him. His attention never strayed from the surrounding forest. Large oaks knifed toward that icy sky, a smattering of blood-red leaves hanging on for dear life. Mostly gnarled limbs stretched out and interlocked, as if the trees were holding hands, bracing themselves for the coming winter.

She wanted to take Aden’s hand but wasn’t sure how he would react.

“I think you should travel back in time,” she said, breaking the silence. She’d given this some thought. If he traveled back to the night Tucker stabbed him, he could prevent all of this. Not just the stabbing, but her attempt to turn him. Their week of feeding, of nearly draining each other, their fighting, this … none of this would happen.

“No.”

That’s it? That’s all her intense pondering got? “No? Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“But Aden, you can stop Tucker, once and for all.”

“Too many things could go wrong, and we don’t know what would happen in the new reality. Could be far worse than this one.”

She doubted that. “There’s only one way to know for sure.” Her new favorite phrase.

“No.”

So adamant. He couldn’t like this reality. Could he? “This is mine,” he said matter-of-factly, reminding her of her father.

All right, maybe he could. “Yes,” she said with a shudder.

His gaze moved to the ground below them, and hers followed, seeing the hidden stretch of land as he must. Bleak, yet fighting to survive. Not a single bloom colored the garden, but the bushes were yellow and orange. Ivy still clung to each trellis, though the leaves were light and brittle.

In the center of the yard was a large metal circle, a ward welded into the dirt, seemingly innocuous whirls intersecting through every inch. The metal could move and open, creating a platform that lowered into the crypt where her father had been buried.

Without a word, Aden climbed the balcony railing and straightened, his balance precarious at best.

“What are you doing? We’re too many stories up. Come down! You—”

He stepped off.

A yelp escaped her as she bent over the rail, her heart stopping as she watched him fall … fall … land. He didn’t splat or crumple as expected. He simply uncoiled from a crouch and walked out of the backyard, all liquid grace and lethal determination.

Victoria had done the same a thousand times before. Perhaps that was why she didn’t hesitate to follow him over. “Aden, wait!” Cold, biting air lifted her hair and robe.

As she tumbled toward the flat, hard surface, she remembered her new, human skin. She flailed, trying to claw her way back up. Then it was too late. She—

Hit.

Her knees vibrated from impact, and she collapsed, slamming into one of the ward’s metal bars. During that impact, oxygen heaved from her lungs. Worse, her shoulder popped out of place and the agony nearly undid her. For hours—maybe just a few minutes—she lay panting, shivering from cold and shock, tears scalding her eyes and catching in her lashes.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she said through chattering teeth. Though the sun was hidden behind those clouds, though the air seemed layered with frost, her skin began to prickle as if she were close to reaching vampire maturity and burning.

What was wrong with her? Besides the thousand other things she’d been dealing with lately?

Footsteps reverberated, and suddenly she could scent Aden in the air. That amazing fragrance of—she sniffed, frowned. He smelled different. Still amazing, but different. Familiar. Like sandalwood and evergreen. A mystic from long ago, yet coldly alive, and now as spicy as the human girl had been.

I will not let jealousy overtake me.

Victoria opened her eyes, unsure when she’d closed them. Aden was leaning down, spotlighted by rogue rays of light that had escaped their cloudy prison. His expression was as impassive as before. Dark hair fell over his eyes—eyes of startling violet.

Since she’d known him, she’d seen him with eyes of gold, green, brown, blue and black, but the violet had not appeared until their time in the cave.

When he reached out, she thought he meant to help her up. She offered him a small, waxen smile. “Thank you.”

“I would not thank me, if I were you.” He latched onto her shoulder, and sharp pain lashed through her. “What do you—”

He forced the bone to pop back into place, and she discovered what true pain really was. A scream ripped from deep inside her. Birds took flight, probably desperate to escape the horrendous, ear-piercing sound. “You’re welcome,” he said, straightening. She would take that to mean I’m really truly very sorry I hurt you, my love. “Next time—”

“There won’t be a next time. You won’t be jumping from the railing again. Promise me.”

“No, I—”

“Promise me,” he insisted. “Stop cutting me off.”

“All right.”

When he offered nothing else, exasperating her, she rasped, “Why did you jump? You could have walked through the house to reach the bottom.” And saved her a panic attack and dislocated shoulder.

“This way was faster.” He pivoted on his heel and marched away. Again.

“Wait.”

He didn’t wait.

Cursing under her breath, Victoria gathered enough strength to stand. Her knees trembled and nearly buckled, but she somehow found the will to remain upright. She trailed after Aden, feeling like a puppy on a leash. A bad puppy who didn’t want to go on a walk and had to be dragged.

Aden never once glanced back to make sure she was okay or even to ascertain that she was there. He just didn’t care, and that hurt worse than her shoulder, cutting at her insides, making her cringe. To him, she either followed or she didn’t, and neither choice evoked emotion.

“Why do you want to talk to everyone?” she asked.

“A few things need to be straightened out.” He strode to the front of the house, up the porch steps and stopped at the towering, arched front doors. Few vampires were out and about at this time of day, even with the hazy milieu, but those who traipsed the grounds blinked in shock when they spotted him, then quickly bowed to show their respect.

A minute ticked by.

More minutes ticked by.

“Um, Aden. You have to walk through a door to enter a house. Standing here won’t do anything.”

“I will. First, I’m surveying what’s mine.”

Once again, he sounded like her father—or Dmitri, her former betrothed—and she chewed at the inside of her cheek in disgust. She hadn’t been fond of either man. Please, please let Aden return to his normal self when the pills wear off.

What would she do if he didn’t?