Riley shifted—uncaring that he was naked—and closed the door as best he could. With the damage to the hinges, he could only prop the fake wood against the opening. Then he turned and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I know what you’re doing, you bastard, and you can stop.” Illusions. This was an illusion, and he knew it soul deep. Neither person on the bed, so lost to pleasure, cast any kind of aura.
“Riley,” Mary Ann said on a raspy breath.
The sound of his name on those lips affected him. His blood heated another degree and not with fury.
“Tucker,” she said next, pleasure giving way to irritation. “Stop, or I’ll stab you.”
A funny threat, coming from her, but effective. Tucker dropped the illusion, and once again Riley saw that Tucker was on the floor and Mary Ann was on the bed.
She looked away from Riley, even as she tossed him a sheet, a hot blush staining her cheeks. “For frick’s sake, Riley, cover yourself. Tucker’s here.”
Had she just said for frick’s sake? And, if he didn’t obey? He wanted to ask but didn’t. He caught the sheet and wound the material around his waist, tucking in the end to ensure it stayed put. He recrossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sure Tucker’s already come to grips with the fact that everyone he encounters is bigger than he is, so don’t worry that he’ll slip into a shame spiral and kill himself. Just start talking.” Before I start maiming. “What’s going on?”
“Can’t you tell?” Tucker asked, smug enough to boil Riley’s good intentions. “We’re dating again, and she’s playing hard to get.”
Riley ran his tongue over his teeth. “Not another word out of you, demon. Mary Ann?” She’d ditched him to go on the run with her cheating, evil ex. Riley had never been more stunned—or more pissed. “You’ve got witches across the street, fairies here in this building, and both are planning your execution. You can either tell me what’s going on now, or tell me after I kill Tucker.”
She gulped. “Now is fine.”
“Good choice.” Man, she was beautiful. Not just quietly pretty, he realized, but drop-dead beautiful. And, yeah, maybe the fact that he’d missed her so much was responsible for the change, but just then she was perfect in every way. Except for the ex. Tucker was an accessory that would not go with any of Mary Ann’s outfits.
Tucker stood. He wore a T-shirt and a pair of boxers. Both would look so much nicer torn to ribbons. Along with his skin. “You want a piece of me, wolf? Then come and get it. ’Cause your girlfriend sure did earlier.”
Another gasp left Mary Ann. “You are such a liar! I’ve changed my mind, Riley. We can talk after you kill him,” she added primly.
He flashed a grin. Until he heard “—wolf is back! What should we do?” The speaker was Jennifer. Through magic, they could watch anyone at any time. Why the hell hadn’t he thought of that?
“The slaughter will have to wait,” he said. “Grab your stuff. We need to leave. The witches are watching you.” And he needed to do something to stop them.
“Okay. Yes.” She was pale and trembling as she unfolded from the bed, but her bag was already packed, the same backpack she’d left home with, so the moment she slid her feet into her tennis shoes, she was ready.
They were racing into the night a second later.
Tucker, the bastard, followed them. “You’ll need me,” he said, smug again. “If you want to succeed.”
“Like you did such a good job before,” Riley snapped.
“She’s alive, isn’t she?”
No arguing with that.
“Zip it, both of you,” Mary Ann said, exasperated. “We can yell and threaten each other when we’re safe.”
He heard her unspoken question: Would they ever be safe? Truly safe? He wanted to reply but zipped his lips as ordered and shifted back to wolf form, the sheet falling away.
He’d make sure she was safe. Whatever he had to do, he’d make sure.
NINE
WHEN ADEN FINISHED PLAYING fetch with the beasts, he asked them to return to their hosts. They snorted and groused, but ultimately they obeyed, wanting so badly to please him. After that, he ordered his people to go about their business and no one—no one—was to disturb him.
After that, he spent a few hours walking the grounds (pristine), the house (immaculate), listening to gossip (boring) and ignoring the councilmen, who obeyed his edict to leave him alone but who purposely cast their voices his way as they argued about his future marriage plans (not gonna happen).
They also discussed his coronation ceremony having been canceled because he’d been missing, and then picked a new date, agreeing they could have everything ready in a week. Which, miracle of miracles, was nearly the same date as the ceremony they’d canceled, but whatever.
He was king, and he didn’t need a coronation to feel the part. Nor did the people need a coronation to follow him. Not after they’d seen what he could do with their beasts.
And now…now he was weary. He found a shirt, pulled it on and spent the rest of the night in the throne room, the power wafting from the wards woven into the carpet quieting the buzzing in his head, comforting him but not reassuring him. At least no one tried to enter, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
He wondered where Victoria was and what she was doing. Fine. He didn’t care about either. He just wanted to know who she was doing whatever it was with and kill the guy.
Victoria was his girlfriend. Right? So, warning other males away with violence was his prerogative. Right?
He massaged the back of his neck. Something is wrong with you, Riley had said. Victoria had agreed, and now Aden did as well. He was uncaring, cold and murderous, his emotions dying before they had a chance to grow, his thoughts traveling dark, dangerous paths he didn’t understand.
More than that, he knew things he shouldn’t. Like the names, faults and strengths of vampires he’d never met. Like how blowing the golden horn would summon his allies. Or Vlad’s. He knew his way around this home. Every secret passage, every forgotten hidey-hole. And his desire to start a war with anyone and everyone who opposed his rule? That topped the list of weird.
He had become someone else.
How was he supposed to fight this when part of him actually liked the changes?
By the time the sun rose, he hadn’t yet come up with a decent answer. He was tired, but still too restless to try and sleep. Good thing, too. Being vulnerable in a nest of vipers wasn’t wise. On top of that, his meds were wearing off, and the souls were murmuring inside his head. Nothing distinguishable yet but enough to assure him they were with him still.
He was relieved—he supposed.
Mostly, he was hungry. Not for pancakes or cereal or even a bagel, but for blood from a living host. Something else he should care about but didn’t. All he wanted was to feed. And he wanted to do it before the souls woke completely and decided to comment about his new eating habits. Although they might understand and accept, considering what they’d witnessed inside the cave.
He stood, his bones creaking from the hours of disuse, and finally strode out of the throne room. He waited, expectant, but the buzzing never started up again.
Two wolves stood sentry at the double doors, one the pure white of a snowflake, the other a rainbow of golds. They followed him as he walked, not even trying to hide their purpose.
Nathan and Maxwell, Riley’s brothers. Undoubtedly his new guards. He’d met them before, so it wasn’t strange that he knew them. They were good guys, if a bit irreverent.
One of his feet knocked into the other. See? Those weren’t his thoughts. Nathan and Maxwell were good guys, yeah, but Aden had never considered them irreverent before.