Intertwined
Page 15

“Aden,” she called as she rushed forward. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he couldn’t have gotten far.
The sleek black wolf, taller than she remembered, bigger than she remembered, jumped out in front of her the moment she passed the line of trees that blocked off the school. She screamed, hand fluttering over her heart.
He gave an irritated growl, his green eyes bright. Settle down. I won’t hurt you.
The word yet hung in the air, unsaid but palpable.
Though the voice came from in front of her, she whipped around, expecting to see someone behind her. But no, she and the wolf were alone. “Who said that?” The words trembled from her.
As I happen to be the only one around, I think you’re safe in assuming that I did.
This time, the words came from behind her. Once more, she faced the wolf. No one was standing beside him. “This isn’t funny,” she said, a little more substance to the words now. Her gaze tripped left, right. Breath sawed in and out of her throat. Hot. Too hot, burning. “Who’s there?”
I love being ignored, I really do. Look, I’m big, I’m black. I’m right in front of you.
She scanned the bright emerald foliage around her. There was no sign of life. “I told you. This isn’t funny.”
You’re wasting time searching for someone else, little girl.
Again her attention fell to the wolf and she laughed without humor. “You can’t be talking to me. You just can’t. You’re a…you are…you’re not human.”
Smart of you to notice. You’re right about the other thing, too. I’m not talking. Out loud.
No, he wasn’t. His harsh voice was echoing inside her mind, she realized, dazed. “This is ridiculous. Impossible.”
One day you’ll laugh about what you just said, because baby, I’m about to open your eyes to a whole new world. Werewolves are just the beginning.
“Shut up!” Mary Ann rubbed her temples. More than ridiculous, this was insane. Utterly insane. Or rather, she was insane. This had to be a hallucination. Nothing else explained it. A wolf—or rather, a werewolf—who had walked her to school and clearly waited for her. A werewolf who was speaking directly into her mind.
What would her father say?
She thought she knew the answer. That she’d been working too hard, not resting enough, never enjoying herself, and this was her mind’s way of taking a vacation. He’d tried to warn her this morning, in fact.
What if, now that she’d fallen over the edge, she needed medication? The thought scared her, and she laughed without humor. She didn’t want this kind of breakdown in her medical files; most likely, it would haunt her for the rest of her life, ruining her chances of landing the internship she wanted. Who would trust her to handle their problems when she couldn’t handle her own?
Bye-bye fifteen-year plan.
But maybe, just maybe, this is real, she told herself, part of her clinging to the hope. There was only one way to find out.
Mary Ann inched forward and stopped before she bumped into the creature’s nose. “There’s a difference between a wolf and a werewolf?” she babbled to break the silence. Do it. Just do it. Gulping, she lifted her arm.
Of course there is. One is merely an animal, the other is capable of being a man. Now, what are you doing?
Though she’d expected him to speak this time, she was still surprised and jerked away with a yelp. If she was wrong, if he was more than a hallucination, he could bite her. Maim her. Kill her. Don’t chicken out now.
“Don’t you already know what I’m doing? Can’t you read my mind? I mean, you can talk inside it.” A figment of her imagination would be able to read her mind, right?
No, I can’t read thoughts. But I can see auras, the colors around you. Those colors tell me what you are feeling, making it easy to guess what you’re thinking. But right now your colors are so jumbled I can’t see anything.
“Well, I plan on touching you. If you’ll just hold still, please.” Great, now she was issuing orders, expecting him to understand. Could this be a joke? Was someone filming this, intending to laugh about her gullibility later? Surely not. No way could someone fake projecting a voice into her head. “If you bite me, I’ll…I’ll…”
He actually rolled his eyes. You’ll what? Bite me back? With those puny teeth?
There wasn’t a reply that would intimidate so irreverent a beast, so she remained quiet. And he remained in place, not even blinking as she reached out again, her index finger ready to poke. She was trembling and hesitant. Finally, skin met fur. Soft, silky fur.
“You’re real,” she gasped out. This was no hallucination. He was real, and he was freaking talking inside her mind, reading her aura. How were those things possible? Even more unbelievable, he claimed he was a werewolf, capable of changing into a human. That was…that was…Dear Lord.
A moan escaped him. Scratch behind my ear.
Still too dazed to process what was going on, she automatically pressed deeper, harder, massaging him.
He uttered another moan, snapping her back to her senses.
Hello. Anyone home? she thought. You’re willingly prolonging contact.
Her arm fell to her side, suddenly too heavy to hold up. “You’re real,” she said again. Which meant she wasn’t crazy. She should have jumped for joy, but couldn’t force her body into motion. She was talking to a werewolf, person, thing, the ordinary world she’d woken up to no longer the world she inhabited. That wasn’t exactly cause for celebration.
For a moment, he gave no response. Just closed his eyes, seeming to enjoy the lingering effects of her touch. Then his eyelids popped open, the green fierce and glittering, and he snarled at her. Let’s get down to business, shall we? What do you know of the boy?
He. Was. Real. “Boy? What boy? I don’t know why you’re following me, but you can stop. You’ve got the wrong girl.” Were there others out there, watching her? Had they always been here, able to communicate, and she just hadn’t known? Wildly she looked left and right, panic building. When she saw no one, nothing, she backed away until she was pressed against the jagged bark of a tree trunk. “Seriously, you can go now.”
Last time I’ll ask nicely, little girl, and then I’ll start demanding. You do not want that to happen, Mary Ann. Trust me.
First, he knew her name. The knowledge jolted her. Second, the words themselves were threatening. But the way he said them, so matter-of-factly, lent them a truth that all the shouting in the world couldn’t have provided. If she didn’t answer, he would force her. With claws, with teeth. Whatever was required.
He stalked toward her, slow and sure, closing the distance between them. What do you know of the boy?
He reached her and rose up, placing his front paws beside her temples, boxing her in.
The blood rushed from her head and pooled in her legs, making her head dizzy and her limbs all the heavier. “What boy?” she managed to gasp out.
I believe his name is Aden.
This was about Aden? “Why do you want to know about him?”
He ignored the question. You spoke to him. What did you talk about?
“Nothing personal, I swear. All I know is that he’s a new student at my school. You’re not going to hurt him, are you?”
Again, he ignored her. What about the other boy? The one you escorted to the stadium.
“That’s Tucker. I’m dating him. Kind of. Maybe. It might be over. I think. Are you planning on hurting him?”
Suddenly the wolf growled, another of those low and menacing rumbles that danced over her nerve endings as delicately as a flutter of wings yet still managed to cut her up and leave her bare. Then she heard why he was suddenly ready to slaughter. Footsteps pounded through the grass, crunching against leaves and acorns. He stiffened and swung around, ready to face the threat.
Aden suddenly burst from the trees, sweat glistening over his face and causing the shirt Tucker had taunted him about to stick to his chest.
“Mary Ann,” he gasped out. “What’s wrong?” Then he spotted the wolf and stilled, ready to defend and protect. “Move around the tree. Slowly.” Gaze never leaving his foe, he bent and withdrew two daggers from his boots.
Her jaw dropped. He carried daggers?
The wolf reared back on its haunches, preparing to attack.
“No, please no,” she cried out. “Don’t fight.” Not once, in all her life, had she ever pictured herself in the middle of something like this.
“Go home, Mary Ann,” Aden demanded. He crouched, determined. “Now.”
Tell him to leave us, the wolf snarled at her without removing his focus from Aden. Why wouldn’t he tell Aden himself? Could he not talk to two people at once? Or did he not want Aden to know what he was? And why was she asking herself all these questions? A battle was about to take place!
“A-Aden,” she began, attempting to move between them. The wolf twisted, blocking her path. “Don’t fight him,” she couldn’t help but plead, suddenly unsure of whom she was speaking to. All she knew was that there would be a bloodbath if one of them didn’t walk away. “Please, don’t fight him. I’m fine. We’re all fine. Let’s just go our separate ways. Okay? Please.”
Neither boy—wolf, whatever—listened to her. They circled each other, intent, panting viciously.
“Stop it, Eve,” Aden snapped, his harsh voice like a boom amidst the silence. “I need quiet.”
Eve?
Then Aden froze, blinked as if confused. He glanced at Mary Ann to ensure she was there, and frowned. “I can hear them.”
She, too, blinked in confusion. “Who?”
Enough! the wolf roared. Tell. Him. To. Go.
“He wants you to go,” she told Aden on a trembling breath. “Please go. I’ll be fine, I swear.”
“You can talk to it?” Thankfully, he didn’t sound horrified. Didn’t gaze at her as if she were insane.
“I—”