“We’ll revisit the time-travel thing later.” Riley lumbered from his bed. “Right now, I want to see the wards on your head.”
If by “later” he meant “never,” then yeah, Aden was on board with that plan. Elijah hadn’t told him anything useful. And until Aden attempted a vision on his own, well, there was no reason good enough to give himself a second chance to screw everything up.
The scent of Victoria’s sweetness was replaced by the earthiness of Riley’s as the shifter—ex-shifter—loomed over him. Hard fingers combed through his hair, tugging at the strands.
Riley said, “They’ve faded quite a bit and worked longer than they should have, but I know what they are. Joe wasn’t lying. These stopped you from being mobbed by creatures.”
“Until I met Mary Ann.” Joe had expected Aden to be grateful about that. As if that were enough. Why couldn’t he have loved me?
“The explosion of energy, or whatever it was,” Mary Ann said, nodding her head. “That’s what stopped the wards from working, guaranteed.”
Riley let Aden go and plopped beside Victoria.
She rested her head on the wide berth of his shoulder. “The magic you guys created together must have overpowered the one Aden’s dad, a mere human, created,” she said.
“Don’t call him that,” he snapped. “His name is Joe.” Seeing Victoria and Riley together always roused his jealousy. But just then, he experienced something more. Their ease with each other, their taking comfort from each other…disturbed him.
Her cheeks leached of color. “I’m sorry.”
Great. Now he was taking his bad mood out on her. “No need to be sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.” As he spoke, he watched as Riley rubbed her arm up and down. Again he was struck by their ease with each other.
That should be me. Instead, they relied on each other. Had for years. Decades. Another thought hit him, a subject that had been bothering him since it had first come up, a subject he’d buried as more important issues arose. A subject he couldn’t dismiss at the moment.
When Victoria had wanted to rid herself of her virginity, so that her first time would not be with the guy her father had picked out for her, she would have gone to…
Riley.
Only Riley.
Aden jackknifed to his feet, his hands fisting, Junior’s growling more pronounced. And that’s when Aden knew beyond a doubt. Junior wasn’t just hungry. He truly was reacting to Aden’s emotions.
“Aden, your eyes,” Victoria gasped out. “They’re violet, glowing.”
“Get your hands off her,” he said, shocked by his voice. Layered, one his own, one raspy with smoke. Both enraged. “Now.”
Riley’s eyes narrowed. At first, that was his only reaction. Then, he dropped his arm at his side and stood. “Yes, my king. Whatever you wish, my king. Anything else, my king?”
“Riley,” Victoria said, her gaze never leaving Aden. “Leave the room. Please. Mary Ann, make him leave the room.”
Riley just stood there. Mary Ann jumped into action, at least. She grabbed Riley’s hand and tugged him out the door. He didn’t resist, and a second later, there was an ominous click.
“You know,” Victoria said, wringing her hands.
“I know.” Harsh, menacing.
“I—”
“Don’t want to hear it.” Aden swiped up the box of papers and books, stalked to the bathroom, slammed the door behind him. On top of everything he was already dealing with, his girlfriend had slept with one of his friends. A long time ago, sure. But he’d always comforted himself with the fact that Riley and Victoria were friends, only friends. Now he couldn’t do that.
He wanted to beat Riley’s face into pulp. Instead, he closed the lid on the toilet, sat down, and dropped the box between his feet.
“See that one coming, Elijah?” he sneered.
No reply. Of course.
You can’t blame Victoria for— Julian began.
“I don’t want to hear from you, either. Let’s just go over this crap and figure out who you were. Okay? All right?”
Silence.
Silence he was suddenly grateful for. At least he hadn’t actually seen Victoria in bed with Riley, at least Edina had taken center stage in each of those visions. Visions. The perfect distraction. Maybe now was the time to try and force one.
Or not, he thought half an hour later as sweat poured down his chest. His turbulent emotions had interfered, preventing him from making any headway. Whatever. He’d try again later. As for now, he picked up one of the books and started reading.
OUTSIDE, COLD AIR BITING at her with teeth she couldn’t see, Mary Ann whirled to face Riley. “What was that about?”
His expression was hard, completely blocking her out. “Nothing.”
Nothing. Oh, really? “Do you hate me now? Is that why you won’t talk to me or tell me the truth? Should I take off again?” The moment she realized what she’d said, she wanted to snatch the words back. What if his reply was an unwavering yes?
Wary, he scrubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t hate you.”
No mention of the other thing, she noted. “Do you resent me? Is that why you can barely look at me? Why you won’t talk to me? Why you offer Victoria comfort but not me?”
One of his brows arched. “Do you need comfort?”
Something else of note: that wasn’t an offer.
She’d hurt him. She’d destroyed his life. And there was nothing she could do to make it up to him. She knew that. But that didn’t stop her from loving him. From wishing things were different.
“No,” she lied. “I don’t need comfort.” She wanted to lean her head on his shoulder, that strong, strong shoulder, exactly as Victoria had done.
“You’ll want to answer differently in a few seconds,” a male voice said. A voice she recognized. Tucker’s voice.
Riley spun, but the demon was nowhere to be seen.
Before fear had time to set in, a strong arm wound around her waist, and another around her neck. Cold steel pressed into her vein. “Riley,” she gasped out.
He peered over her shoulder, his eyes narrowing. “Let her go.”
“We’ve gotta talk,” Tucker said. “All of us. Preferably alive, but I’m open to negotiation.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
ANYTHING YET?
“No.”
Well, look again.
“I’ve looked eight times already.”
Look again.
“How many times can we have this conversation, Julian?”
Let’s not find out. Let’s look. Again.
Aden ground his teeth. He’d left the toilet a few seconds ago, and now crouched on the floor. His head fell back, resting on the cool porcelain of the tub, and he stared up at the ceiling. Frustration was eating at him, but he once again thumbed through the papers he’d brought with him.
His ears twitched, picking up…something, a rustle of clothing maybe, then nothing.
Not those. I don’t like those. They give me the creeps.
Like the room at the hospital. That was something, at least. He read the spine of the book he held. Dark Arts of the Ages.
Show me the pictures again.
We’ve memorized them already, Caleb complained.
As promised, Elijah kept his figurative lips shut.
Aden heard another rustle of clothing beyond the bathroom door as he discarded the book and picked up the photos. What he saw as he shuffled through them: two little boys the same age, so alike they could have been twins. Yet, the older they got, the more dissimilar they became, Robert aging faster than Daniel. Also, the older they got, the unhappier their expressions became, until Robert—looking fortysomething—and Daniel—looking thirtysomething—were sullen and miserable.