Twisted. Gena Showalter. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Gena Showalter
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Книги для детей: прочее
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408952047
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on everything. Julian found fault with her every action, Caleb took nothing seriously and Elijah was the biggest downer of all time.

      To be honest, she would have more fun overdosing on sedatives than speaking to him.

      Where were human junkies when you needed to top yourself off?

      Aden stood, his gaze locked on her.

      How can I stop him without harming him? She’d wondered this a thousand times before, but the solution had never come to her. Surely there was a way to facilitate—

      Hey, I kinda feel funny, Caleb announced, his voice booming as if there had never been anyone or anything more important than him and his feelings in the history of the world.

      Will you give it a rest? You’ve got a funny feeling in your invisible pants and the only way to fix you is for Victoria to undress. We know! Julian snapped. Why don’t you do our boy Aden a solid and stop trying to play Naughty Shower Time with his girlfriend?

      Victoria clawed at her ears, trying to reach the souls and finally kill them. They were so loud. So there, like shadows slinking through her skull, untouchable, darting just out of reach every time she closed in.

      No, I’m not horny. A laborious pause. Well, I am, but that’s not what I’m talking about right now. I … I think I’m … dizzy.

      Caleb was telling the truth. That dizziness was now spilling into her, and she wavered on her feet.

      Hey, Julian said a second later. Me, too. What did you do to us, princess?

      Of course he blamed her, even though it wasn’t her fault. The dizziness always hit them a few minutes before they returned to Aden, and they were always surprised.

      Here comes Aden, Elijah warned her. I hope you’re prepared for the changes about to unfold. I know I’m not.

      Hey, don’t help the enemy! Julian growled.

      “I’m not the—” The scent of Aden’s blood hit her first, potent and tantalizing, making her mouth water, reminding her of her body’s needs. Then, suddenly, she was falling, hard hands pushing her down. Cold rock scraped against her back, and she gasped out the rest of her sentence “—enemy.”

      “Feed.” Aden’s weight pinned her, his teeth chewing at her neck a moment later. She latched onto his hair again, but this time, when she tugged, he bit down harder—into her vein. Her skin actually split open.

      Never before had something like this happened, and a scream of pain tore from her. A scream that died as quickly as it had begun. Her throat clogged as the dizziness returned, accompanied by a tidal wave of unexpected fatigue. Her muscles quivered, and she thought she heard Caleb moan.

      Caleb. Reminded of his presence, she gasped out his name, willing to beg the soul to help her now. “Let me possess—”

      His second moan cut her off. What’s happening to me?

      “Concentrate. Please. Let me—”

      Am I dying? I don’t want to die. I’m too young to die.

      He and his babbling would be no help. Nor would the others. Julian and Elijah were moaning, too. But they weren’t leaving her, weren’t returning to Aden. And then their moans became shouts, fogging her mind, derailing her good sense.

      Flashes in her mind, like a camera switching views. Her bodyguard, Riley—tall and dark-haired, smiling with wicked humor. Her sisters, Lauren and Stephanie, both blonde and beautiful, teasing her mercilessly. Her mother, Edina, with black-as-a-midnight-sky hair swinging as she twirled. Her long-lost brother, Sorin, a warrior she’d been commanded to forget, she’d tried to forget as he’d walked away and never looked back.

      More flashes, the camera revealing only black and white now. Shannon, her roommate, kind, caring, concerned. No, not her roommate, but Aden’s. Ryder, the boy Shannon had wanted to date, even though he’d rejected him. Dan, beloved owner of the D and M ranch, her home for the last few months. No, not her home. Aden’s.

      Her own thoughts and memories were blending with Aden’s, forming a hazy cloud around her. Then the flashes disappeared all together. She was weakening … fighting the need to sleep.

       Come on, Tepes! You’re royalty. You can do this!

      A pep talk courtesy of herself, one that worked. She could do this.

      Determination driving her, she managed to tug on Aden’s hair, lifting his head. Unfortunately, she wasn’t strong enough to throw him. Not this time. And for a moment, their gazes clashed. His eyes were red now, glowing. Demonic. Blood dripped from his mouth—her blood—and splashed onto her chin. Blood she desperately needed to keep.

      She should have been frightened. Because, as she looked up at the fiend she had created, she saw her death. A death that made sense. Elijah had claimed Aden was now lost to the beast, and Elijah was never wrong. And yet …

      Blood … her own hunger rose again, filling her up, becoming all that she knew, strengthening her. She would not be taken down without feasting on him, she decided.

      Her fangs sharpened as she surged up to bite. Only, she could not pierce his skin. Something blocked her. What blocked her? She looked, determined to remove the obstacle, but she saw only the bronze of Aden’s skin. Nothing covered that hammering pulse.

      Taste, taste, must taste. A mantra she couldn’t blame on the souls.

      Snarling, she released his hair and clawed at him. A tiny cut, that’s all she needed to make. So easy, but her nails failed her as thoroughly as her teeth.

      “Feed.” Aden dove back down. Clearly, her jugular was his favorite chew toy.

      TASTE. She surged back up, trying to bite him again.

      “Taste,” the beast said, as if he’d heard her thought and mirrored it.

      They rolled on the floor in a bid for dominance. Whenever she managed to toss him away, he always flew back in less than a blink. They crashed into the walls, slammed into the dais and splashed in the shallow puddles of water.

      Whoever won would feed. Whoever lost would die, drained, the circle of life proven once again. For only the strongest could survive; everyone else became a snack. Until Aden, her every action had been motivated by that principle. After him, she had fought to protect those weaker than herself. Fought her instinct to take, to have. Now, she couldn’t fight. She wanted. She would have.

      All too soon, however, Aden pinned her, and this time, he held her down so firmly, she was unable to wrestle her way free. Their bodies rubbed together as she still continued to struggle, their limbs tangling. Finally, he managed to grab her wrists and brace them over her head.

      Game over. She had lost.

      She took stock. She was panting, sweating, her neck throbbing, her mind locked on one thought: TASTETASTETASTE.

      Yes.

      “Let go,” she snarled.

      Above her, Aden stilled. He, too, was panting and sweating. His eyes were still glowing that bright crimson, but now there were flecks of amber mixed with the red. Amber, his natural color. That meant, for once, Elijah had been wrong. Aden was in there, still battling the beast for control.

      She could do no less.

      The thought was a lifeline, and she clung. Victoria concentrated on her breathing, in and out, slow and measured. Voices other than her own began to penetrate her awareness.

      —feeling worse, Caleb was saying.

      The dizziness had never been this bad before. And once the switch-switch-switch had begun, the souls should not have been able to stay put. Why hadn’t they left her?

      We all have to stay calm, Elijah said. Okay? We’ll be