“Empty. Leave. Will not return.” The boy nodded, his eyes glazed. He turned and shut the door behind him.

With barely a pause, Victoria refocused on Aden, as did Mary Ann. He appeared more relaxed, his color higher, the bruises fading.

“He’s healing,” she said, her relief palpable.

“Yes,” the vampire replied without looking at her. Despite the progress, the worry must not have left her.

She needed a distraction. “I’m a power neutralizer,” Mary Ann said. “So how can you use your Voice Voo—uh, command while I’m here?”

“You do not stop Riley from shifting, do you?”

“No.”

“Because the ability is natural, part of who he is. The same is true with me. Most of my powers are natural, what I was born to do. Like teleporting. You didn’t stop me from doing that, either.”

Too bad about the teleporting. And most of her powers? As in many. How many weird things could she do? And also, what wasn’t natural? Not that Mary Ann would ask. She and Victoria were friendly, for the most part, but the boys were the glue that held them together. Not affection. Not yet. Perhaps that would come in time.

“What a terrible week this has turned out to be,” Victoria muttered. “My father killed, a witch death curse unleashed and Aden injured by the Fae.”

The witches. Ugh. How could she have forgotten, even for a second? “Have you ever been summoned to a witches meeting before?”

“No. Usually, the witches and the vampires avoid each other. They are…well, their blood is our greatest addiction.” Her eyes closed, and she licked her lips, as if she were imagining drinking from one. “The taste is…I can’t even describe it. There’s nothing like it, and one sip can enslave us.”

Great. Neither of them knew what to expect, then.

“We’ve always maintained distance from each other, and have an unspoken pact. We do not use them for sustenance, and they do not bespell us. Until lately.”

“So you’re uncomfortable around witches.”

“I suppose.”

“And you’re also at war with the Fae.”

“Yes.”

“And you hate goblins.”

“Anyone with sense does.”

Were vampires allied with anyone? Well, besides werewolves, their trusted protectors.

Maybe you joined the wrong team.

The stray thought hit her, and she blinked. Wrong! She’d joined the right team. She’d joined Riley’s team. How dare her mind consider anything else.

Are you seriously angry with your own brain?

She hated that cynical inner voice. Besides, what other team would she have joined? The witches? Yeah, that would have been nice. Wasn’t like they could curse her every time she angered them.

Oh. Wait. They could.

But, God, if she could just talk to a witch. Ask a few questions, figure this thing out. How, though? It wasn’t like the witches were wearing signs around their necks announcing what they were, or popping up at school or this ranch and asking if there was anything they could do for her.

But Victoria and Riley could spot them at a glance. What if they went into town—where most of the creatures were congregating, trying to figure out how they’d been summoned to Crossroads and not yet realizing Aden was the source—and kidnapped a witch?

Her eyes widened. Of course. Kidnap a witch, ask questions, get answers and boom. Success. Death curse reversed.

She could have danced.

Of course, she’d never kidnapped anyone and had no idea how to go about it. But she’d figure something out.

Who are you?

The old Mary Ann never would have considered such a risky plan. This was a new world, however, and she had to adapt. Or die. She wasn’t ready to die.

“Let’s backtrack to the witches…” After she outlined her plan to Victoria, the vampire glanced over at her for the first time since she’d entered the room and nodded thoughtfully.

“Excellent.”

She beamed.

“I had not thought you so mercenary, Mary Ann.”

Slowly her “beam” dimmed. “What do you mean?”

“Only that I approve of your plan. Kidnap and torture for information. And after the meeting, we can even bargain for our captive’s release. If the witches vow never to curse us again, she lives.”

And if they refused to offer such a vow? Mary Ann’s stomach hollowed. No way would she commit murder. And torture? No! In her mind, she kind of expected the witch to offer answers in exchange for freedom. Easy, done. Just like that. Clearly, Victoria thought differently. And that she could resort to brutality so easily and without a hint of remorse…

First, you didn’t mind Riley acting all He-mannish. Second, Victoria’s a vampire, remember? Raised by one of the most vicious men in history. So for eighty years, and by her own admission, Victoria had viewed humans as food, nothing more, nothing less. Life had no true value to her. Besides, witches weren’t human, Mary Ann didn’t think, but they were a source of irritation to the vampire. Irritations were probably to be snuffed out immediately. Painfully.

That’s what Vlad the Impaler had most likely done, and that’s what Victoria assumed she needed to do. Someone would have to teach her otherwise.

So. New task to add to Mary Ann’s ever-growing list. Teach Victoria to respect other species. Hopefully, Riley wouldn’t need the lesson, as well. If he did, however, she would give it to him. There would be no killing unless absolutely necessary.

Unless absolutely necessary? Who are you? she wondered again. And just how was she supposed to teach a vampire and werewolf anything when they were far older than she was and had a lifetime of experiences she couldn’t even imagine?

“When is he going to wake up?” Victoria suddenly asked.

Mary Ann pulled herself from her thoughts. “When his body is ready, I suppose. Rest is healing.”

“I wish…I wish I could turn him into a vampire. Then his skin would be indestructible.”

She really needed to eliminate that word from her vocabulary. Vampire skin could 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.”