Twisted. Gena Showalter

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СКАЧАТЬ inside her mind with a view straight from Riley’s eyes, she saw Dan, an ex-football star, tall, blond and rugged, standing in the kitchen of the ranch. His wife, petite, pretty Meg, bustled around him, tossing ingredients into a pot.

      “—really worried,” Meg was saying.

      “Me, too. But Aden’s not the first to run away. He won’t be the last.” While the words were accepting, the tone was not.

      “He’s the first to surprise you with his actions, though.”

      “Yeah. He’s just such a great kid. All heart.”

      Meg’s smile was soft. “And not knowing why he left kills you. I know, baby.”

      “I hope he’s okay. Maybe if I’d given him more one-on-one time, he wouldn’t have—”

      “No. Don’t you dare do that to yourself. We can’t control the actions of others. All we can do is support them, and pray we make a difference.”

      The conversation faded as Riley stealthily maneuvered from the main house and into the bunkhouse behind it. Aden’s friends were there. Seth, Ryder and Shannon lounged on the couch, watching TV. Terry, RJ and Brian were in front of the computer, playing games. Relaxing activities, but there was an undeniable tension radiating from each boy.

      They must feel the loss of Aden, too.

      I have to fix this, Victoria thought.

      Shannon stood, a chalky cast to his mocha skin, his gaze sweeping the room—and clashing with Riley’s.

      In the present, Riley released her hand, the images flickering, disappearing, and she was once again inside her bedroom.

      “Shannon saw you,” she said.

      “Yeah, but he didn’t do anything and I was able to get what we needed without incident.” Riley dug inside the basket, setting aside what he wanted and discarding what he didn’t. “There wasn’t a whole lot of information, just enough to tell me he needs the antipsychotics. This, this, and this.” As he spoke, he placed the desired pills in her palm.

      She studied them. One was yellow and round, one blue and oblong, and one white and scored in the center. These tiny things were supposed to help him when she could not?

      “Fetch a glass of water from my bathroom,” she said.

      Commands were not something Riley usually responded to, but he didn’t hesitate to obey, soon thrusting the desired glass in her hand. His concern for Aden was as great as hers.

      “Lift his head and tilt it back,” she said, and again, Riley jumped to obey.

      She pried Aden’s mouth open and set the pills on his tongue. Then she placed the rim of the glass at his mouth and poured. Just a little, but enough. Without looking away, she reached out and set the remaining water on her nightstand. Or tried to. Her aim was off, and the glass thudded and splashed to the floor. She didn’t care. She closed Aden’s mouth with one hand and worked his throat with the other, until all the pills made their way into his stomach.

      That done, she straightened and peered down at her patient. “Now what?” she whispered, watching for any kind of response … and not seeing one.

      “Now,” Riley said, grim, “we wait.”

      FOUR

      MARY ANN GRAY SAT AT THE corner desk in the back of the library, reading countless microfiches—the same thing she’d done every night for a week. Days were beginning to blend together, her temples were throbbing, the muscles in her back were knotted, and there were (probably permanent) marks along her butt and thighs that were a perfect match to the scuffs in the freakishly uncomfortable chair she’d commandeered.

      According to all the “How To” info she’d read for people on the run, she knew developing a routine was bad. Like flashing a neon arrow just above your head. Problem was, this routine was necessary.

      “They close in thirty, you know.”

      She flicked an irritated glance at her companion. AKA the boy she couldn’t ditch no matter what she tried. And she’d tried a lot. Dine and dash. The old “wait here, I’ll be right back.” The classic “what’s that over there?” And even brutal honesty—” just leave me alone, I hate you.”

      “So I’ll finish in thirty,” she said. “Now get lost.”

      “Let’s not start that argument again.” Tucker Harbor perched at the edge of her desk, pushing books and newspapers on top of each other and crinkling their precious pages. Just to irritate her, she was sure. “I’m not going anywhere.”

      “Do you mind? This stuff is important.”

      “Yes, I do mind, thanks for asking,” he said, staying put.

      She glared up at him. A mix of blond and brown hair shagged around the boyish face of an angel. Which was one hundred percent false advertising, considering he’d been spawned from a demon. Or would that be spawned from the devil?

      “When are you going to tell me what you’re looking for?” he asked.

      “When I stop wanting to rip out your trachea. In other words, never.”

      He shook his head in mock despondency. A hard thing to pull off while he was freaking grinning. “Harsh, Mary Ann. Harsh.”

      He was so annoying. She’d dated him for months, then dropped him like the used condom he was when she found out he’d cheated on her with her best friend Penny. Penny, who was now pregnant with his kid.

      Penny, whom she’d forgiven and still called. As of this morning, her friend was suffering from all-day sickness. Despite that, she’d managed to crawl her way out of bed to check on Mary Ann’s dad.

      Her friend’s words played through her head.

      “Sweet Jesus, Mary Contrary,” Penny had crackled over the line. “He’s, like, the walking dead. He doesn’t even go to work anymore. He just stays in the house. I peeked in the window last night, and he was just staring at your picture. You know I’m as hard core as a girl can be, but that almost broke me.”

      Me, too, she thought now. Nothing I can do about that, however. I’m saving his life. She’d had him freed from a vengeful fairy’s compulsion to never leave his room and to ignore everything around him. That would have to be enough. Better he was despondent than murdered to get to her.

      And, now it was time to change the subject inside her head. What had she been thinking about before? Oh, yeah. Tucker.

      Why, why, why had she convinced Aden, Riley and Victoria to save Tucker’s life after a group of vampires used his body as an appetizer? If she hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been alive to stab Aden in the heart.

      Weirdly enough, Tucker had confessed to the crime without any prompting from her. He’d even cried while telling her. Not that she had forgiven him. Maybe when the shock wore off. Then again, maybe not.

      “What you did to Aden was harsh,” she said softly.

      He СКАЧАТЬ