Twisted. Gena Showalter
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loved this new Aden.
“May we change our clothing before we enter the throne room, majesty?” Maddie asked softly, and when Aden nodded she pulled her sister away before the girl could say anything else.
Victoria’s mouth opened, snapped closed, opened again, yet no words escaped. Not that she knew what to say. That had been spectacular. Simply spectacular.
Back to business, Aden strode to the far wall and lifted the gold summoning horn hanging there. A thing of beauty, that horn. Solid gold, intricately carved, a dragon’s head curving from the top, scaled claws curving from the bottom and a mouthpiece rounding up into a tail. He placed that mouthpiece at his lips.
“Wait. What are you doing? Don’t—” Victoria raced toward him, only to stop when he blew. A loud wail echoed throughout the entire mansion, bouncing off the walls, vibrating against the floors, rattling the very foundation. “—do that,” she finished weakly.
He must have interpreted “don’t do that” as “do it again,” an easy mistake to make when you failed to listen, because he blew a second time, and another wail resounded.
Dread worked through her, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. Finally the wailing ceased, leaving a strange, deafening silence.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said.
“Why?”
Her hand fell to her side. “Uh, because I said not to?”
“Why not use the horn,” he continued, “when it’s out in the open, waiting to be used?”
“It’s out in the open for emergencies only.”
“This is an emergency.”
I will not scream at him. “How so?” Gritted, but not screamed. Good.
“I didn’t want to climb the stairs, call, text, email or wait for the grapevine to inform everyone about my meeting.”
I will not slap him. I absolutely will not. “Well, do you know what your laziness just did?”
“Yes. I summoned my vampires. Efficiently. Quickly.”
Maybe one little slap wouldn’t hurt. “Yes. You also summoned your allies and let your enemies know you are in need of aid. Wait. Let me rephrase. You summoned my father’s allies, and—” she lowered her voice in case anyone was eavesdropping “—he wants you dead—in case you’ve forgotten—and now he’ll have help. Because when he shows up—and he will—they’ll offer their support to him rather than to you.”
Which meant … Her brother would return, she realized. Her brother would return and assist her father.
What would she do if her brother fought her boyfriend?
She’d always loathed the decree that kept her segregated from Sorin, had hoped he would one day seek her out, but he never had. Neither of them had been willing to risk their father’s ire. She’d spied on him a few times, though, watching him flirt with women before coldly maiming the vampires he trained with.
She’d come to think of him as half irreverent brat, half homicidal maniac, and to this day she wondered what he thought of her, or if he would even care to learn. He’d always been Vlad’s staunchest supporter.
Aden winning against her father was a long shot, but Aden winning against her father and her brother? Impossible. Because the only thing that would be sliced was Aden.
She would talk to Sorin—for the first time ever, and sweet mercy, she wanted to vomit from nerves at just the thought—and ask him not to fight. And when she asked him, he would … she didn’t know what he would do.
“If what you say is true,” Aden said, “your father would have snuck in here and used the horn himself. But he didn’t, which means he didn’t want anyone summoned.”
“I—” Had no argument, and he had a point. Still!
Aden shrugged. “Let him—and them—come.”
What would it take to shake him out of this emotionless stupor? “Some will teleport into the surrounding forest. Some will travel as humans travel, but all will make their way here to hurt you.”
“I know. And that’s a good thing. I want my opposition disposed of quickly, in one swoop.”
Back to spouting Vlad’s—her—philosophy, was he? “My brother will be among those who travel here.”
“I know.”
He knew? And he didn’t care? “He’ll die like the others.”
No, he didn’t care. She stared up at him for a long, silent moment. “Who are you?” Her Aden never would have planned something so cruel.
“I’m your king.” His head tilted as his study of her intensified. “Unless you choose to serve your father now?”
“Why? Would you kill me, too?”
His expression became thoughtful, as if he were actually pondering his answer.
“Never mind,” she gritted out. The conversation was only making her angrier. “But my brother—”
“Is not up for discussion. Until Vlad develops the courage to show himself, our little war can’t begin. And it needs to begin, out in the open this time, so that it can end. We cannot have one without the other.”
He’d just spouted another facet of her beliefs. How many times had she said You cannot have an end without a beginning to Riley throughout the years? Countless. Of course, she’d been trying to talk the shifter into letting her misbehave, not trying to convince him to ramp up the hostilities. But here was a question to last the ages: had she been this annoying? “You. Are. Frustrating. Me.”
Aden shrugged, but underneath the casual, unconcerned action, she saw a glimmer of unease work through his expression. First thoughtful, now uneasy. He must not like frustrating her. She hoped.
Hope that was demolished when he said, “Enough. We have things to do,” and strode to the throne room to at last host his precious meeting.
Once again Victoria found herself trailing after him like a puppy. And she didn’t need Elijah to tell her bad, bad things were about to happen.
SEVEN
ADEN STEPPED INTO THE throne room, his bare footfalls silent against the plush red carpeting that formed a path directly to his throne. Black wards were woven into that carpet, and for the first time he could feel the full force of the power wafting from them, slithering around his feet. With every step, that power twined higher and higher, around his calves, his thighs, his waist. His stomach, chest and arms.
He breathed deeply, the constant buzzing in his head finally quieting. The power swirled, forming a halo that lifted strands of his hair, as if he’d just stuck his fingers into a light socket.
He experienced a startling moment of clarity. Of … emotion. Suddenly he was Aden, not the cold-hearted vampire king he’d somehow become. He felt. Guilt, joy, remorse, excitement, sorrow … love.
He reached back, extending his hand, needing to touch Victoria, even in so small a way. He knew she was behind him, each of his cells aware of her every move, her every breath. Every second that passed.
A momentary pause, a gasp of surprise. Her fingers tentatively twined with his, meltingly warm and familiar. “Aden?”
“Yes?”
Her step faltered, and she stumbled into him. He stopped and wrapped his arm around her to hold her up, loving the way she fit against his side. Like a puzzle piece he’d been missing.
“Your eyes … they’re normal.” Hope bubbled in the undertone of her voice.
Normal?