Mary Ann’s dad. Aden’s stomach clenched, even as he realized Dan truly meant to help him. Dr. Gray had been his doctor years ago. They both recalled that, and how Dr. Gray had tossed him out of his office because Aden had admitted to time-traveling—exactly what Mary Ann’s mom used to claim to do. He’d thought Aden had stolen and read his journals about his wife’s history, and had erupted.
Dr. Gray still thought so, because he didn’t want to admit the truth, that his wife hadn’t been crazy, that he’d tried to medicate her for nothing. That she’d died because no one had listened to her, helped her. Therefore, Aden and Dr. Gray did not get along.
“No,” Aden said with a shake of his head.
“Wouldn’t matter anyway. Dr. Gray already turned us down because he had too many other patients.”
Yeah. Right. “Maybe we could find someone in the city.”
“That’s close to a thirty-minute drive one way, and we just don’t have time for that, but I promise you I’ll be thinking. Something will be done. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Okay?”
“Okay.” That was more than Aden had hoped for, a dream come true. The adult responsible for his care had just proved he…cared. How had such a crappy day taken such a wonderful turn?
When they reached the ranch, Aden hopped out of the truck. “I want to wash up before I eat,” he said, and after Dan’s okay, he trekked to his room.
The bunkhouse was empty, the boys already at the main house. Aden shut himself in the bathroom, happy with Dan, with the unexpected support, with the fact that he would never have to see Dr. Hennessy again.
At the sink, he twisted the knobs until warm water sprayed and soaked his hands. “Guys?” he whispered to the souls. One by one, they acknowledged him. “Do you remember what happened in that office?”
No, Caleb said. I’m like a black hole right now, and it’s seriously messing with my mojo.
Who cares about mojo? I barely remember the day at all, Julian said.
It’s like my memory has been scrubbed, Elijah said, and I don’t like it.
So, what had been done to them during all those minutes inside Hennessy’s mind? Wait. He’d been inside Hennessy’s mind?
Even as the question formed, his own memory seemed to be sprayed with Windex and wiped clean. He frowned at his pale reflection in the mirror, trying to relive the past five minutes. Nothing. The last hour. Still nothing. Droplets of water splashed onto his hands, but he suddenly couldn’t remember walking into the bathroom, much less turning on the faucet.
His frown intensified. “What are we doing in here?”
Cleaning up, Caleb said with an unspoken “duh.” We’ve got a new tutor to meet.
“Oh, yeah.” He shook his head, rattling the sense of uneasiness working through him. “Let’s get this over with.”
ONCE AGAIN, TUCKER found himself huddled in the underground crypt, dust in his nose, darkness a vise around him and a damp chill stroking him with bony fingers. He was shaking this time. Not because he was weak—he was physically stronger now than he’d been last time—but because he could feel the menace pouring through the air. Thick, like blood. Acrid, like burning rubber.
What was in store for him? Nothing good, that was for sure. And why? He’d done everything he’d been told. He’d followed Aden. He’d kept watch. Yeah, he’d veered off course a few times, following Mary Ann instead, making sure she got to where she wanted to go without any problems, but he’d always gone back to Aden. Always.
“I am not pleased with you, boy.”
The smooth voice came from just a few feet away from him, though he couldn’t see the speaker, and jolted him far worse than if Vlad had yelled. “I—I’m sorry. I’m trying. Please, don’t punish me.” He couldn’t make himself stand and run, no matter how much he wanted to. God, did he want to. But he also wanted to please this man, this deposed king, the need a part of him, as much as his lungs or his heart, and right now Vlad wanted him to stay put.
“Punish you? Perhaps. You aren’t trying hard enough.”
“You’re not doing anything, either,” he muttered before he could stop himself. Then he cringed, expecting a violent retaliation.
“I am healing, you fool. My people cannot see me like this.”
“Of course, of course.”
“I have questions, and you will get me answers. How is the human, Aden, leading my people? Why are they following him? How is he still alive?” Each question was more clipped than the last.
“I don’t… I have no—” But he did. From everything Tucker had witnessed, only one answer made sense. “Tell me!”
Vlad had yelled the words, and Tucker had just realized he’d been wrong. Nothing was worse than hearing this vampire shout his disapproval. The deep, rolling waves of his fury were tongues of fire, licking, feasting. Tucker gulped. Just as part of him wanted to run, part of him wanted to hold his next words inside.
That part of him lost to self-preservation. “The wolves protect him.”
“The wolves.” Silence followed. Thick, heavy silence. Gut-wrenching, sweat-inducing silence, but finally, blessedly, Vlad spoke again. “Continue observing him. I have much to consider.”
Not an order to kill, and yet, Tucker experienced a sickening wave of dread. That final order was coming. Of that, he had no doubt.
DINNER SUCKED.
Oh, the food was good—Meg Reeves was an excellent cook—and Aden loved him some pot roast and potatoes. And this room, the “formal” dining room, was wicked cool. Aden never felt more like part of a family than when he was here. Something about the long, square table that Dan had crafted himself, the wallpaper with cherries and wheelbarrows, of all things, and the cabinet brimming with Meg’s favorite china. This was what a home should look like.
But the new “tutor”…he shuddered. Or perhaps shivered. The word “hot” didn’t do her justice. However, the word “fairy” did. Thomas had been right. His family had come looking for him. The new tutor was none other than Ms. Brendal, his sister.
Aden had immediately realized how precarious the situation was, but he hadn’t been able to bail. That would have looked too suspicious. So here he sat. And ate. And pretended to be as normal as the others.
All the boys were around him. Shannon and Ryder, who sat across from each other, refusing to look at each other, were too quiet. Seth was leaned back in his chair, one arm resting on the back slat, his gaze telegraphing come hither. RJ, Terry and Brian were openmouthed and dumbstruck. Dan sat at the head of the table and beautiful Meg at the foot. They, too, seemed to be under the fairy’s spell, raptly listening to her every word as if she were the savior of the world.
Even the souls were listening to her, waxing poetic about her face and body. Sadly, he wanted to join them.
Ms. Brendal sat across from Aden, and yeah, she was beautiful. Probably the most physically perfect being he’d ever seen. She had big, sparkling brown eyes that were somehow familiar to him, but her long, curling blond hair was not. He didn’t think. Her skin was so golden and luminous she could have swallowed the sun. And she smelled like jasmine and honeysuckle.
He loved jasmine and honeysuckle, more than anything. He loved Brendal, too.
His hands curled into fists. He had to stop thinking like that, but didn’t know how. Even though he knew what she was, he was more drawn to her with every second that passed…had the urge to protect her…hell, even to lay his head on her feet just to be near her. Caress her, kiss her…worship her. And that was dangerous (not to mention embarrassing). For Victoria, as well as himself. This woman, this lovely fairy, was his enemy. She would want to murder him the moment she learned what had happened to Thomas.