“Come here,” he said. He released her hand and held out his arm in open invitation. Eagerly she stretched out beside him, her head burrowing in the hollow of his neck. “I have something to tell you. Something you won’t like, something that will probably scare you.”
She stiffened against him. “All right.”
There was nothing left to do but say it. “I’ve seen my own death.”
“What do you mean?”
He heard the horror in her voice and wished he could take back the words. Instead, he plowed ahead. “Sometimes I know when people will die. Sometimes I know how they’ll die. Awhile back I saw my own death, the same as I’ve seen a thousand others.”
Her palm flattened on his chest, just over his heart. She was trembling. “And you’ve never been wrong?”
“Never.”
“When is this supposed to happen? How?”
“I don’t know when, only that I won’t look much older than I do now. I’ll be shirtless and there will be three scars on my right side.”
She sat up, silky hair tumbling down her shoulders and back, and gazed down at his stomach. Without asking permission, she lifted his shirt. There were scars, but not the three parallel lines he’d seen in his vision. “To have scars you must first be injured, and that injury must have time to heal.”
“Yes.”
Her expression hardened with determination. “Once you’ve rested, you will tell me everything you know about this vision and we will do everything in our power to stop it. For what is the point of knowing something in advance if you can’t change it?”
Aden reached up and caressed her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. Some other time, he would tell her the consequences of trying to prevent someone’s death. He’d given her enough to deal with for one night. Here, now, there were a thousand other things to talk about, a thousand other things to do.
“Have you noticed anything different about my room?” he asked. “Anything different about the people here at the D and M?” Maybe Ozzie was as sweet as an angel now that the past had been altered. A guy could hope.
She eased back down and once again curled into his side. This time, she wrapped her arm around his middle and held on tightly, as if afraid to let him go. “The only difference I’ve noticed is the array of pills on your desk. I don’t recall ever seeing those before.”
Pills?
Amid her protests, he rose from the bed and crossed the room to the desk. At first glance, everything looked normal. There was his iPod. A few weeks ago, someone had left it on a park bench and he’d snatched it up. He swept his gaze across the rest of the desk. Pill bottle after pill bottle greeted him. He picked them up one by one and read the labels. No wonder his companions had been silent since his waking. They were totally and completely drugged.
“Guys?”
No response.
“Guys!” he said to jolt them. What if the drugs had done irreparable damage to them? What if they never returned? He thought he’d taken every kind of medication there was, but he—they—had never reacted this way. He glanced at the label. He hadn’t heard of the drug names. Experimental, maybe?
He wanted them out of his head, yes, but he also loved them enough to want them to have lives of their own, fulfilled lives, happy lives. He would rather live with them than see them destroyed.
Elijah had told him one of them would leave him in this new, altered reality. He’d assumed that meant one of them would find a body. What if it meant one of them would be killed inside him? Aden almost threw up then and there. What the hell had he done?
He looked at the name of the doctor printed on the bottles. No longer Dr. Quine, but Dr. Hennessy.
“Guys!”
Finally, Eve spoke. So tired, she said.
Can’t think, Caleb said.
Just want to sleep, Elijah added.
Julian remained quiet.
“Julian,” he demanded in a fierce whisper. Nothing. “Julian!” Louder.
Still quiet.
“Julian, I swear to God if you don’t start talking I’m going to—”
Too loud, Julian slurred. Keep it down.
His shoulders sagged. Thank God. They were all here and they were all alive and well. As well as they could be, anyway.
What happened? Eve asked.
He explained about the drugs. Like him, they retained the memory of their former selves, not changing even when the past did. They wouldn’t know what had happened to them, either.
Aden turned toward the bed, but Victoria was no longer there. He hadn’t heard her move, but she was suddenly beside him, arm wrapping around his waist, holding him tight.
“I have to get back,” she said, head nuzzling against his neck. “My family is awake this time of night and expects me home. There are werewolves out there, besides Riley, that is, surrounding this property to keep you safe. Mary Ann’s house, too.”
Aden cupped her cheeks and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. “Will I see you to—” He stopped dead. There was someone at his window, glaring into his bedroom. Glaring at him. He shoved Victoria behind him. “Hide,” he told her, gaze searching for his blades. Where had she stored them?
“What’s—” She stepped around him, gaze following his. A breath hissed between her teeth. “No. No, no, no,” she said on a moan. “Not him. Anyone but him.”
Why would the wolves have allowed someone Victoria disliked this close to the ranch? “Do you know him?” Aden couldn’t stop a tide of jealousy from swimming through him. The man, whoever he was, was tall with blond hair and golden eyes. Who was he? What was he? Aden’s gaze sharpened, going deeper, and he froze. A vampire. With skin as pale as Victoria’s, his fangs peeking from his lips, gleaming white, that’s all he could be.
She moved from behind Aden. He reached for her, planning to draw her back.
“Don’t touch me,” she said, her voice colder than he’d ever heard it.
“Victoria?”
She glided to the window. “I told you to stay away from me, Aden, and I meant it.” With that, she disappeared in a blur of movement.
WHEN RILEY LEAPT through Mary Ann’s window at one o’clock in the morning, she was sitting at the edge of her bed, surrounded in darkness, arms hugged to her chest, rocking back and forth.
She didn’t say a word as he trotted into her bathroom. Didn’t say a word when he emerged fully clothed and crouched in front of her.
“Mary Ann,” he whispered. He traced a fingertip over her cheek. “You okay?”
His skin was warm, his hands callused. Comforting. She couldn’t stop herself from leaning her head onto his shoulder. At first, he stiffened. Why? Then his free arm wrapped around her waist, tugging her even closer, and she forgot all about that momentary rigidity.
He wore the same shirt and jeans he always wore when over at her house. And no underwear, her mind supplied, causing her to blush.
He chuckled, which caused her blush to spread. “Hello, excitement.”
“What are you doing back here?” she asked, changing the subject. She did not want to tell him what had caused that excitement.
“I took Victoria home. My time is now my own.”
“What if she sneaks out again?” There’d been something in Victoria’s expression earlier that said such a thing was highly likely. Besides, to be with Riley, Mary Ann would have done just that. Who are you becoming? She didn’t want Riley in trouble.
He smiled wryly. “There’s someone else in charge of her care tonight.”
“Who? Why?”
“That is Victoria’s secret to share. Not mine,” he said, his tone suddenly flat. “Now. Tell me what you were thinking about when I arrived.”
She leaned back and looked down at her hands. “My father knew Aden. I just mentioned his name and my dad started acting weird. He locked himself in his office and hasn’t come out since.”
“Well, at the moment he’s asleep.”
Her gaze lifted. “You’re sure?”
“Very. I peeked in on him and his aura is white, serene. Plus, he’s snoring.” Once more, Riley traced a fingertip over her cheek.
Her skin tingled.
“More excitement,” he said, lips curling in a grin.
She wanted to pull out her hair—or maybe his—in frustration. “Stop reading me.”
That grin faded. “Why?”
“It’s unfair. I never know how you’re feeling.”
He arched a brow. “In that case, allow me to share. At any given time, it’s safe to say I’m thinking about you and equally excited.”
“Oh.” Wow. The frustration drained. “You…like me like me, then?”
“Why else would I hang around like this? Why else would I sometimes want to destroy your good friend Aden? Too good a friend, if you ask me. And what about your feelings?”
She watched him, incredulous. “Can’t you guess?”
“Just say it,” he growled.
“Fine,” she said, suddenly wanting to laugh. “Yes. I like you.”
His harsh expression evened out. “Good. That’s good.” He stroked her hair and sighed as he glanced at the alarm clock on her nightstand. “Much as I’d like to continue this conversation, we have to find those files Aden wants. Victoria has insisted I must do what I can.”
“I have a feeling they’re with my dad.”
Frowning, Riley pushed to a stand. “There is only one way to find out.”
“I know,” she said on a sigh. It’s what she’d been debating for hours and had finally decided to do. Wait until her dad fell asleep and then go down there and search.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I can get them on my own. You won’t have to be involved.”
Was that what she wanted? She’d promised to help Aden. And as her history teacher was fond of saying, “A successful future is impossible if you don’t know your past.” Maybe her dad had seen something in Aden, something that could point them in the right direction.
