Unraveled

“Thank you.” Aden was still amazed that he and Sha

They headed into the bunkhouse, where the others were already washed up and in dry clothes, watching TV in the living room as if they’d just finished up their schoolwork like good little boys.

Aden waved at them, and kept moving. He and Sha

“Well, well,” another familiar voice said when he entered his room. “Look who’s back. Me.”

Freaking fantastic, Caleb grumbled.

Not good, Elijah said with a sigh.

Aden didn’t have to look around to know that the ghost prince had indeed returned. His hands curled into fists as he wondered if he’d ever lead a normal life.

“Aden?” Sha

At the same time, Thomas said, “Tell me what you did to me. Tell me why I’m here, why my people can’t see or hear me. Why no one but you can. Tell me!”

The voices blended together, making the words intelligible. He knew then that he wouldn’t be having a conversation with Sha

Not knowing what else to do, Aden covered his ears and threw himself on his mattress to wait out the storm.

SEVEN

TUCKER HARBOR HUDDLED in the corner of a dim, damp crypt, surrounded by darkness and flat-out creepiness. A spider might have just crawled over his hand, and was that a mouse squeaking? He would have given anything to see.

He hadn’t wanted to come here. He’d been lying on a hospital gurney, hooked to all kinds of monitors, drugs pumping straight into his veins, chasing away the pain. Yet the voice had called to him, drifting through his head, and he’d found himself unhooking the tethers, rising, walking, finally ru

Unfortunately, getting here hadn’t been that difficult. No one had tried to stop him, and his “gift” hadn’t been on the fritz. Tucker had cast illusions—something he’d been able to do his entire life. Whatever he envisioned in his mind, he could create around him. Or rather, make people think was around him.

If he pictured a gutter, a gutter would seem to encase him. If he pictured a circus, a circus would seem to appear, with him in the center ring. On his way out of the hospital, he’d pictured himself as the wall beside him. Outside, he’d pictured himself in a T-shirt and jeans, rather than this paper-thin gown.

So now, here he was. In pain, again, still weak from the vampire bites he’d endured only a few days ago—or maybe hours ago, he didn’t know anymore. Time was just…time. Ticking away, but not part of his awareness anymore. Maybe because he didn’t care.

Which he didn’t understand. He’d been tied to a table as if he were dessert, and vampires—real-life freaking bloodsuckers—had been allowed to simply lean over and bite him. Anywhere they had desired. He’d wanted to die. But then, as the blood had drained from him, his body growing cold, his conscious mind dimming, he’d wanted to live. So badly.

Then Aden Stone and Mary A

Yet now, without the threat of death hovering over him, without the utter helplessness, without the drugs, he wanted to do all of those things again. And he couldn’t ignore the urges. On the way here, he’d punched a middle-aged man he’d never met, felt the guy’s teeth cutting into his knuckles, and had laughed. Laughed. Because he’d liked inflicting pain.

I’m a monster.

The only time those kinds of urges left him was when he was with Mary A

She’d taken off one night, so he’d visited her neighbor and best friend, Pe

Part of him believed her. The human part of him that hated when he acted like a maniac. The other part of him, the part where all those urges churned, didn’t want to believe her.

He needed Mary A

Somewhere in the dark, he heard the whisper of cloth against flesh, the sound somehow far more obscene than the squeak of that mouse. Then, “You came,” a hard, emotionless voice said from the darkness. “Good boy.”

The voice. Only this time, it wasn’t inside his head.

As his heart pounded out of control, Tucker straightened. He still couldn’t see anything. There wasn’t a single beam of light in this crypt, and dust layered the air. Dust and death. “Y-yes. I try to be.” He would try to be anything this man wanted. “Who are you?”

“I am your king.”

Four simple words, but they changed Tucker’s life. Irrevocably. Yes. He belonged to the owner of that voice. It was strong, powerful, almost as if magic floated from each syllable, wrapping around him, tightening…tightening…controlling. More than being what this man wanted, Tucker would do whatever was asked of him, whenever it was asked. Happily.

“Vlad,” he said, knowing the name deep in his soul. He inclined his head in reverent greeting, even though he couldn’t be seen. Or could Vlad’s gaze pierce the darkness?

“Yes. I am Vlad. And there is someone else you know, Tucker. Someone I am deeply interested in. Aden Stone.”

A statement, not a question, yet Tucker replied anyway. “Yes.” He couldn’t help himself. Must please Vlad. Must always please Vlad. “I know him.”

“You will watch him.”

“Yes.” No hesitation.

“You will tell me everything you learn.”

“Yes.” Anything. Everything.

“That is good. I am counting on you, Tucker. Do not let me down. Because, you see, he took my crown, and when the time is right, I will take it back.”

THE NEXT FEW HOURS of Aden’s life passed in a blur. Sha

At the same time, Thomas continued to barrage him with rapid-fire questions. “Why can’t my kind see or hear me anymore? Why did I disappear into a black hole after the vampire and werewolf left?”

At the same time, Elijah demanded they discuss the coming vampire assembly. Plans needed to be made. What if there was a rebellion and someone tried to de-throne him?

At the same time, Caleb outlined what Aden should wear to impress Victoria enough to make out with him. Black leather was a top contender. Whipped cream, too.