Unravelled

Why hadn’t he told her?

“Why can’t you turn him?”

“Attempts were made to turn humans in the past. None were successful.” “Can’t we—?”

“Stop it from happening, now that we know about it?” Victoria laughed without any trace of humor. “No. Apparently, that will only make things worse for him. He told me that stopping a death, once it’s been predicted, does not change the outcome, only the way that outcome is achieved. And when changed, that outcome becomes far more excruciating.”

Aden. Dead. Soon. No! Tears burned her eyes, stinging down her cheeks. “How does he live with that knowledge?” Don’t talk like that. Something can be done. Surely.

“I don’t know. But I don’t think I could. He is human, yet he is stronger than I will ever be.” She traced something over his heart, but Mary Ann was too far away to tell what that something was. If she were guessing, though, she would say it was the same thing Victoria had traced on the tabletop in the cafeteria.

“And you’re sure you can’t make him a vampire?” There had to be a way to save him.

“I am sure. Our blood is…different than yours and in large doses, which would be required to turn someone, it drives humans to insanity and death. Sometimes the vampire trying to do the turning dies, as well, though no one knows why.”

No way Aden would risk Victoria’s life. That she knew. “How did you become vampire, then?” The question emerged broken, hoarse.

“I was born this way. My father was the first to change, you see. He was a blood-drinker, even as a human, and slowly found himself changing. His skin thickening, his hunger for everything else fading away. His body no longer aging. He had his most trusted men and their females drink blood, like him, and they, too, changed. He then had his beloved pets, the wolves, drink. They changed, as well, though they became vicious. It is their offspring, like Riley, that you see now, able to shift into human form.”

“Why can’t Aden drink that blood? What your father and his people drank?”

“He drank from people, Mary Ann, and those people are long gone. Dust in the grave.”

“But if Aden drank from people…maybe…”

“That, too, has been tried. That, too, has failed.”

So that was it? They were supposed to give up and watch Aden die? Soon? No. Absolutely not. She refused. There had to be a way to save him, she thought again. Please let there be a way to save him.

Suddenly Riley strode from the closet, wiping his hands together and claiming their attention. He was fully dressed now. His clothes were wrinkled, torn and bloodstained, and there were streaks of dirt on his face and arms.

“It’s done,” he said, and there was no emotion in his voice. “No one will know a prince was killed in Aden’s home.” His gaze raked Mary Ann, ensuring she was okay, before moving to Aden and Victoria. “How is he?” “Better.”

As if he’d heard the question, Aden moaned. Both Mary Ann and Riley stilled before rushing to the bed and crouching beside him. Mary Ann latched onto his hand and squeezed.

Victoria rose over him, on her knees, and patted his cheeks. “Can you hear us, Aden?”

Slowly he blinked open his eyes. There was a collective intake of breath as they waited…waited…He focused, though his multicolored irises, a mix of brown, blue and green, were glassy. “Victoria?” he asked groggily. “I’m here. How are you? Is there anything I can get you?”

He frowned, his head tilting to the side. He blinked again, and his frown deepened. Then he shocked everyone by snarling, “No!” grabbing Victoria by the shoulders and throwing her behind him as he popped to his knees. “Don’t you dare touch her!”

Startled, Mary Ann followed the line of his gaze. She saw…no one. “Aden?”

“How are you still alive?” he demanded. “Riley killed you. I felt you die!”

“Aden?” Victoria approached him again and curled her fingers around his forearms, urging him down. “Who are you talking to?”

“The prince.” He remained where he was, balled his fists and raised them, ready to strike. “The prince who had better be leaving.”

“He’s here? “ Riley demanded.

“Yes.”

“But that’s impossible. I mean really impossible. I just buried him.”

SIX

BURIED HIM.

The words penetrated the fog drifting through Aden’s head, and he rubbed his face with a shaky hand. Not happening. This was so not happening.

Buried him.

He once again maneuvered Victoria behind him, but Thomas continually reached through him, trying to touch her. No, not just touch her. Kill her. There was hate in the fairy’s eyes. Only good news was Thomas’s hand ghosted through Aden and Victoria, every try.

Riley had already grabbed Mary Ann and pushed her against the wall, his body covering hers like a shield. His predator’s gaze circled the bedroom, searching, his body waiting to act.

Buried him.

Plausible, because Aden had taken a death-blow for him. He shuddered, remembering. The pain…He’d never experienced anything like it. In fact, there wasn’t a word to describe it. Excruciating was like a gentle massage in comparison.

And that’s how Aden was going to die.

Which meant he would have to experience that again. Chest ripping open, organ tearing, blood spilling. The cold consuming him, turning his bones to brittle ice. No. No, no, no. He refused. No one should have to endure that kind of death. And twice? Not just no, but hell, no. He’d think of something, do something, anything, to prevent it.

Yeah, he’d tried to save people in the past, hoping to circumvent the deaths Elijah had shown him. And yeah, they’d then died in other, more painful ways. But to Aden, there was nothing more painful than a knife through the heart. He’d take anything else. In a heartbeat. Stupid pun intended.

“Why can’t I touch her? “ Thomas snarled.

“Back off. Or—” What kind of threat would scare a fairy? “Or you’ll regret it.” Not the best, but all his foggy brain could come up with.

Finally, panting and skin glistening with sweat, the prince stilled. “What did you do to me?”

Good question. “Just leave her alone.” Slowly, Aden moved from the bed…his legs had better cooperate…yes! He remained standing, arms splayed to block any new attempt. “In fact, just leave.”

He stiffened as a thought occurred to him. Make you pay for this, even from the grave, Thomas had said before the knife plunged. Pay. Grave. Grave. Oh…crap. Had Aden earned himself a vengeful fairy-slashghost-slash-sidekick?

“Aden. What’s going on?” Victoria demanded, as the prince shouted, “I can’t! I tried.” She moved in front of Aden before he could stop her, ready to fight his demons for him. “Tell me what to do, and it’s done.”

“Victoria,” he said. He couldn’t stand the thought of her hurt. And despite everything, this could be a trick. What did Aden know about fairies and their afterlife? Thomas could be waiting for the right time to strike. For real.

“There’s no one here, Aden. Just us. The prince is dead. Riley buried the body, like he told you. Yet you see him still? ”

“Yes. But you can’t see him? Can’t hear him?”

A chorus of “No” rang out.

So. No one but Aden could see or hear Thomas, and Thomas couldn’t touch anyone. Maybe this wasn’t a trick, then. Besides, Thomas wanted Victoria and all of her family dead—enough to die himself—and wouldn’t have waited for the right time to strike. He would have simply struck. Aden should have considered that before.