be burned by je la nune; at least, that’s what she thought Aden had called it. He’d also said je la nune was fire dipped in acid then wrapped in poison and sprinkled with radiation. Or something like that. That’s what was hidden inside of Victoria’s ring.
What a painful way to die. Mary Ann wasn’t sure Aden would prefer that to the few cuts and bruises he had now.
“He’s going to die, you know?” Victoria said softly. She rested her head on Aden’s chest, as if she were listening to his heartbeat. Silky black hair spread around her shoulders and draped over the arm she had wrapped over Aden’s stomach. Together, they looked like a magazine ad for a fancy perfume. “Has he told you yet? ”
“What’s to tell? All humans die.”
“No. He’ll die. Soon.”
At first, Mary Ann could only blink over at her, certain she’d misheard. Then, as the words penetrated—He’ll die. Soon.—they became real. All the moisture in her mouth dried, her limbs shook and her heart did that hammering thing. “How does he know he’s going to die?”
“One of the souls inside his head is psychic. A death predictor.”
“Wh-when is this supposed to happen? How is it supposed to happen?”
“A knife through the heart. The other, the timing…that, he doesn’t know. Only that it will be soon, like I told you.”
Soon. What was soon, though? A day? A week? A year? And a knife through the freaking heart? Dear God. An even worse way to die than from the je la nune. He really did need tough vampire skin.
Why hadn’t he told her?
“Why can’t you turn him?”
“Attempts were made to turn humans in the past. None were successful.” “Can’t we—?”
“Stop it from happening, now that we know about it?” Victoria laughed without any trace of humor. “No. Apparently, that will only make things worse for him. He told me that stopping a death, once it’s been predicted, does not change the outcome, only the way that outcome is achieved. And when changed, that outcome becomes far more excruciating.”
Aden. Dead. Soon. No! Tears burned her eyes, stinging down her cheeks. “How does he live with that knowledge?” Don’t talk like that. Something can be done. Surely.
“I don’t know. But I don’t think I could. He is human, yet he is stronger than I will ever be.” She traced something over his heart, but Mary Ann was too far away to tell what that something was. If she were guessing, though, she would say it was the same thing Victoria had traced on the tabletop in the cafeteria.
“And you’re sure you can’t make him a vampire?” There had to be a way to save him.
“I am sure. Our blood is…different than yours and in large doses, which would be required to turn someone, it drives humans to insanity and death. Sometimes the vampire trying to do the turning dies, as well, though no one knows why.”
No way Aden would risk Victoria’s life. That she knew. “How did you become vampire, then?” The question emerged broken, hoarse.
“I was born this way. My father was the first to change, you see. He was a blood-drinker, even as a human, and slowly found himself changing. His skin thickening, his hunger for everything else fading away. His body no longer aging. He had his most trusted men and their females drink blood, like him, and they, too, changed. He then had his beloved pets, the wolves, drink. They changed, as well, though they became vicious. It is their offspring, like Riley, that you see now, able to shift into human form.”
“Why can’t Aden drink that blood? What your father and his people drank?”
“He drank from people, Mary Ann, and those people are long gone. Dust in the grave.”
“But if Aden drank from people…maybe…”
“That, too, has been tried. That, too, has failed.”
So that was it? They were supposed to give up and watch Aden die? Soon? No. Absolutely not. She refused. There had to be a way to save him, she thought again. Please let there be a way to save him.
Suddenly Riley strode from the closet, wiping his hands together and claiming their attention. He was fully dressed now. His clothes were wrinkled, torn and bloodstained, and there were streaks of dirt on his face and arms.
“It’s done,” he said, and there was no emotion in his voice. “No one will know a prince was killed in Aden’s home.” His gaze raked Mary Ann, ensuring she was okay, before moving to Aden and Victoria. “How is he?” “Better.”
As if he’d heard the question, Aden moaned. Both Mary Ann and Riley stilled before rushing to the bed and crouching beside him. Mary Ann latched onto his hand and squeezed.
Victoria rose over him, on her knees, and patted his cheeks. “Can you hear us, Aden?”
Slowly he blinked open his eyes. There was a collective intake of breath as they waited…waited…He focused, though his multicolored irises, a mix of brown, blue and green, were glassy. “Victoria?” he asked groggily. “I’m here. How are you? Is there anything I can get you?”
He frowned, his head tilting to the side. He blinked again, and his frown deepened. Then he shocked everyone by snarling, “No!” grabbing Victoria by the shoulders and throwing her behind him as he popped to his knees. “Don’t you dare touch her!”
Startled, Mary Ann followed the line of his gaze. She saw…no one. “Aden?”
“How are you still alive?” he demanded. “Riley killed you. I felt you die!”
“Aden?” Victoria approached him again and curled her fingers around his forearms, urging him down. “Who are you talking to?”
“The prince.” He remained where he was, balled his fists and raised them, ready to strike. “The prince who had better be leaving.”
“He’s here? “ Riley demanded.
“Yes.”
“But that’s impossible. I mean really impossible. I just buried him.”
SIX
BURIED HIM.
The words penetrated the fog drifting through Aden’s head, and he rubbed his face with a shaky hand. Not happening. This was so not happening.
Buried him.
He once again maneuvered Victoria behind him, but Thomas continually reached through him, trying to touch her. No, not just touch her. Kill her. There was hate in the fairy’s eyes. Only good news was Thomas’s hand ghosted through Aden and Victoria, every try.
Riley had already grabbed Mary Ann and pushed her against the wall, his body covering hers like a shield. His predator’s gaze circled the bedroom, searching, his body waiting to act.
