“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.
Their birth certificates hadn’t arrived yet, so they didn’t know who his parents were and couldn’t even visit the hospital where he’d been born to retrieve his medical records. Their only hope at the moment lay in her dad’s files.
I am not a coward. I do not welsh on my promises. Besides, it would be better if she took the files rather than someone else. She would be keeping them in the family, so to speak.
She stood, squared her shoulders. “We’ll do it. Together.” And then she did something that shocked them both. She rose on her tiptoes and pressed a swift kiss on his lips. “Thank you for returning to help me.”
When she tried to move away, he latched onto her forearms and held her in place. His eyes were gleaming. “Next time you decide to do that…”
“What?” she said, stiffening. “Give you a little warning?”
“No.” He grinned. “Linger.”
CHAPTER 17
From the case journal of Dr. Morris Gray
January 23
SUBJECT A. What can I say about him? First time I saw him, I was reminded of my daughter. Not in appearance, of course, they look nothing alike. Not in demeanor, either. Where my daughter is wild and carefree, laughter so easy for her, A is quiet and shy, afraid to look people in the eyes. I have never seen him smile. My daughter is happiest when surrounded by people. A is happiest in the shadows, alone, unnoticed. But I can see the longing in his gaze. He wants to be part of the crowd. He wants to be accepted. That he isn’t breaks my heart. And that is where the two are most similar. The love I feel for them, in one case understandable, in the other…not.
Love is exactly what A needs, though. No one has loved him since his parents gave him up, while my daughter has been coddled her entire life. That is why she smiles and he does not. And yet, despite their different pasts and opposing natures, they both possess a bone-deep vulnerability that radiates from them. Something that strikes the heart, like claws digging in and refusing to let go. Something that imprints them in your mind so that you can never forget them.
I’ve noticed the way some of the other patients look at A. They, too, feel those claws. They, too, are drawn to the young boy without knowing why.
Funny, though, that the only patients concerned with him are those who are here because they see things that aren’t there, talk to people who aren’t there and think they are spawned from hell itself.
During therapy sessions, I’ve asked a few of them why they watch A so intently. The answers were the same: he draws me.
That shocked me each time I heard it because I had felt drawn to this institution with the same intensity they were drawn to the boy. I’d driven past it and had been filled with a need to work here, even though I’d already had a job. A well-paying job at a private practice I’d had no intention of leaving. I could have risen up the ladder and eventually become a partner. But none of that had mattered after I drove past Kingsgate Psychiatric Hospital.
I’d wanted to—had to—go inside. I’d wanted to be there, to stay there forever. What surprised me most about my determination was that my daughter, also in the car, had cried when we passed it. She’d been perfectly happy there in the backseat of my sedan, applying her favorite flavored ChapStick, when she’d suddenly burst into tears. I asked her what was wrong, but she’d just rubbed her chest as if it hurt, unable to explain.