TWENTY-TWO

INSTEAD OF DOING as Aden had asked, Riley kept driving until he reached a motel. Victoria procured a room (free of charge), and the four of them locked themselves inside. Strangely enough, none of them spoke during the twenty minutes it took. Mary Ann was glad; she was a jumble of nerves.

Of all the things she’d come to accept these last few weeks—werewolves, vampires, witches and fairies, flesh-eating goblins and straight-from-hell demons—this would top them all. Her mother, a woman she herself had never known, had been trapped inside of Aden all this time? So close to her, yet so unattainable? Impossible. But that’s what Aden had been implying. That’s what he wanted her to believe.

Trembling, she stood at the threshold of the room and peered inside. There was a dresser, a nightstand with a TV and two twin beds. Aden crossed over and eased onto the edge of one, facing her but not looking at her. He was as pale as Victoria, who settled next to him.

Riley sat on the other bed and waved Mary Ann over with a crook of his fingers. Her body didn’t want to move; her feet felt rooted in place. I can do this. I can. Just the other day she’d hoped to talk to her mother’s ghost. A different mother, yeah, but then she hadn’t had all the facts.

She just kind of fell forward, forcing her too-heavy legs into action. But when she reached the bed, her knees gave out. Riley caught her and positioned her next to him. She flattened her sweaty palms on her thighs to prevent herself from reaching over and shaking someone. Had to press her lips together to prevent herself from screaming. This was too much, not enough, everything and nothing, hope and defeat all rolled into a beautifully frightening package.

“This can’t be right,” Riley finally said, breaking the silence. “One of the souls trapped inside you simply can’t be Mary Ann’s mother.”

“Her name is Eve,” Aden replied, “and that’s what she says, too.”

Mary Ann exhaled quickly. “Well, then, it’s settled. She’s not my mom. Besides, my mother’s name was Anne, not Eve.” She forced the words past the scream still lodged in her throat. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Aden’s Eve to be her mother. Having her mother nearby would be amazing. It was just that, to hope for the best and then later find out she was wrong…it would be like losing her mom all over again and she wasn’t sure she’d survive.

Aden pulled at his shirt collar. “The souls inside of me have no memory of their other lives. Of course their names are different. Besides, I helped pick them.”

“What makes you think they’re ghosts? I mean, they would have to be for one to be my mother. And I thought ghosts were a possibility for a while, too, but why haven’t you drawn other ghosts inside your head? Let’s think about this.” Did she sound as desperate to them as she did to herself? “My ability to negate others’ powers apparently worked while I was inside the womb, not allowing my mother to…time travel.” Saying that was hard, made it real. “That means your ability would have shown itself before your birth, as well.”

“True. But what if my mother was a neutralizer like you? I wouldn’t have drawn anyone until my actual birth, until I was carried away from her. We won’t know until we talk to her, if we find her. And as for why I haven’t drawn other people—or ghosts, or whatever they are—inside my head, maybe I was only vulnerable at birth. Maybe, even as a baby, I learned to guard myself. Maybe there wasn’t room for anyone else. That’s something we might not ever learn.”

She had no reply. Everything he said made sense and beat at her resolve.

“Right now, you and Eve have the chance to learn the truth. Do you really want to miss out on that?”

Did she? If she continued to hold on to her disbelief, she would remain emotionally guarded. If she opened herself up to the possibilities, she would be risking every ounce of her newfound happiness.

Riley’s warm hand curled around the back of her neck and he began massaging the muscles knotted there. With the touch, his strength seeped into her and changed the direction of her thoughts. She wasn’t some mouse to be scared away from a dream come true so easily. After all, she had faced down a wolf, befriended a vampire and demanded answers from her father. She could do this, too.

And if, afterward, she needed to pick up the pieces of her shattered life once more, she would.

“No,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “I don’t want to miss anything.”

Aden nodded as though he’d expected such a reply. “I’m going to do something I haven’t done in years. Something I hate to do because I become like the souls, trapped inside a body that isn’t my own, control no longer mine.” His eyes were swirling, all the colors blending together. “I’m going to allow Eve to take control of the body. That means the next time I talk to you, it won’t be me. It’ll be Eve. Okay?”

Her nervousness intensified but she nodded.

His lids fell, shading those irises. In and out he breathed, every inhalation audible, every exhalation like the calm before a storm. “Eve,” he said. “You know what to do.”

An eternity passed. Nothing happened, nothing changed. Then he stiffened and a groan parted his lips. Then, his eyelids cracked open. The shimmer of colors was gone. Now his eyes were a hazel-brown. Like hers. She could only gape in wonder, the world around her gone. Aden was the only anchor she had at the moment, the only thing keeping her from floating away.

“Hello, Mary Ann,” he said. No, Eve said. It was Aden’s voice, and yet, there was a gentleness to it that had never been present before.

She shivered, the urge to hug him stronger than ever before. “Hello.”

“Should we leave?” Victoria asked.

“You can’t,” Aden-Eve said. “Without Riley, Mary Ann blocks Aden’s abilities. I wouldn’t be able to hold on to the body.”

They lapsed into an awkward silence.

“This is silly,” Mary Ann said. “There’s no way we’ll figure this out. I don’t know anything about my mother, and you don’t know anything about her, either. You don’t know anything about me.” She was surprised by the bitterness in her tone. Not for Eve, but for the things she had missed.

You do know something about her, she reminded herself. The journal. One passage was already burned into her memory.

Sadly, she probably had.

“Do you remember anything about your life?” Mary Ann asked. “Before Aden, I mean?”

A shake of that dark head. “No. I’ve tried. We’ve all tried. I think there are memories just waiting to be freed. I mean, I can feel something swirling in my consciousness, but I just can’t seem to get to it.” A sigh. “We all have thoughts and feelings, fears and desires we can’t explain any other way.”

“What are yours?” she dared to ask.

A fond smile. “I’ve always been the mother hen, as Aden calls me. The protector. The scolder.” That dark gaze lowered, and the smile faded away. “I’ve always loved children and feared being alone. Perhaps that’s why I didn’t help Aden try to find a way to free us as doggedly as I should have. But that’s my cross to bear.”

The nuances of Eve’s personality fascinated her, and she found herself comparing her to the little she knew about her mother. So far, they meshed. “You met my father during a therapy session. Do you remember that?”

“Yes.”

“Did you feel anything for him? Like an unexplainable need to hug him, the way Aden says you feel for me?” A need Mary Ann still battled herself.

“I felt a fondness for him, a sense of gratitude. At the time, I assumed those feeling were because of his treatment of Aden. He sat down with the boy, listened and didn’t judge.”

“Now?”

A shrug. “I’m not sure. Like Aden, I was just a child when I first met your father. I wouldn’t have known how to interpret something deeper, like what a husband and wife should feel for each other.”

Mary Ann threw her arms in the air. “How are we supposed to figure this out then?”

“I have control of the body now. I could travel back, maybe put myself inside a younger version of me. This is amazing!” Aden-Eve’s head tilted to the side; his lips lifted in another smile. “All the voices. Wow. I had forgotten how difficult it is to tune everyone out. Aden’s reminding me that I have to have a specific piece of my life in mind to travel back and as I recall nothing about who I was, if I even was someone else, there’s nowhere for me to go but his past.”

Mary Ann chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. “There might just be a way.” Hand still shaking, more so now, she reached into her backpack and withdrew the journal. She clutched it to her chest, not wanting to release it, but after a moment’s hesitation, she forced herself to relinquish it. “This belonged to my mother. She wrote about her life. Perhaps, if you truly are her, something in there will spark a memory of your own.”

Did she want it to? Did she not want it to?

“Wonderful idea.” Aden-Eve’s hands were shaking just as violently as those strong fingers cracked the spine, settling on a page. “Today I am tired,” he read. “There is nothing on TV, but that’s okay. I have company. My precious angel, nestled close to my heart. Her kicks are strong today.” He rubbed his stomach, as if checking for signs of life. “She’s craving apple pie. Maybe I’ll bake her one. I can almost smell the cinnamon, almost taste the melted ice cream.”

Aden flipped the page, hand shaking, and continued reading. “I was too tired to bake so Morris brought a pie home. The store only had cherry so it’ll have to do. I just hope my angel doesn’t start kicking up another fuss. She’s…he’s—Oh, my God.” Lips smacked together. “It’s almost like I can taste it.” Deep breath. “Smell it, too. I can even see it. I can really see it! The cherries are so red.” There was an excited gasp, and then suddenly Aden was gone, the only indication he’d been there the dent in the mattress.

Victoria and Riley popped to their feet, both gazing around the room with concern. Mary Ann just clutched her stomach, tears of dread and that silly hope she’d tried so hard to deny pouring down her face, and waited for Aden-Eve to return, telling herself they’d merely gone back into a past version of Aden.

She didn’t have to wait long. Within three minutes, Aden was back on the bed as if he’d never left. His eyes were still hazel. Like Mary Ann, he was crying. Or rather, Eve was.

“I remember. I remember.” Eve launched herself at Mary Ann, arms wrapping around her. “Oh, darling baby. My darling baby. How I’ve waited for this day. Dreamed of it, all the days I carried you.”

At first, Mary Ann tried to remain immobile. This proved nothing, not to her. No one could remember an entire lifetime that quickly. Right?

“I went back. I was there, in the little house I shared with your dad. I was eight months pregnant and lying on the couch, rubbing my belly and singing you a lullaby, that bowl of cherry pie resting on top of me. I remember now. I remember. The walls had the most horrid floral wallpaper, and the furniture was threadbare, but clean, and I loved every stitch. The orange couch, the yellow loveseat. I’d worked as a waitress to help pay for everything. And since my first memory with Aden isn’t as your next-door neighbor, I’m guessing his parents moved him.” Her grip tightened. “All this time…if only they had stayed, I could have watched my angel grow up. My beautiful angel.”

Mary Ann remembered that floral wallpaper, the carrot couch, as she’d called it, and the sunshine lounge. She’d spent the first ten years of her life inside that house, climbing on that furniture, while her dad put himself through school, then worked like an animal to pay off his debts.

Carolyn could have changed the décor, but she hadn’t. She’d left everything the same. A tribute to the sister she’d both envied and mourned?

There was no way Eve could know those details. Unless…Mary Ann stopped breathing. It was true, then. Eve really was her mother. Eve really was her mother. For a moment, she was too stunned to react, her emotions numb. Then joy burst through her, joy in its purest form, undiluted, heady, leaving no part of her untouched.

Eve petted her hair. “Tell me your aunt Carolyn treated you well. Tell me your life has been happy.”

Her arms moved of their own accord, wrapping around Eve’s shoulders. They hugged as tightly as they’d longed to do since the beginning. Just then Mary Ann felt like she was finally home, enveloped in warmth and light and love.

“I was happy,” she worked past her throat. “She treated me like her own. And I think—I think she missed you. She changed nothing in the house, even picked up the bright color scheme when we moved, probably so that we’d both feel closer to you.”

“So she forgave me. Thank you for telling me that.” Eve pulled back and cupped her trembling chin, staring into her watery eyes. “Oh, my darling girl. I adored you from the moment I first learned of you, imagining the two of us tending the garden together, shopping, you styling my hair, painting my nails and doing my makeup as I used to do to my mother. Your father named you after me and the hospital you were born at, I’m guessing.”

She nodded. With a whimper, she threw herself back into Eve’s arms. The tears were flowing freely now, burning her skin. She had what most people could only dream of: a second chance. A second chance to love, to apologize. “I’m so sorry I killed you. It was my fault. I drained you, stopped you from using your ability.”

“Oh, sweet baby, no. Don’t ever think that.” Eve ran her hands down Mary Ann’s back, soft, gentle. “You might have stopped my ability to go back for a redo, as I called it, but I was happy about that. I can’t tell you the number of times I screwed up my present by messing something up in the past. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t accidentally or even purposely go back, so the amazing future I saw for myself was secure. The nine months I carried you were the happiest of my life. What you gave me…I can never thank you enough. And my sweet darling, it was better for you that I wasn’t there. Knowing myself the way I do, I would have tried to go back and fix everything that went wrong in your life. I might have ruined you. Killed you. And I couldn’t have lived with that. Your father couldn’t have lived with that.

“He was always a good man. Don’t be too hard on him for keeping me a secret. I was a difficult part of his life. And a good one.” A grin. “We would lie outside for hours, gazing up at the stars, holding each other close.”

Mary Ann rested her cheek on her mother’s shoulder, the new center of her world. “Was Aden good to you?” She wanted to know everything, every little detail, about her mother’s second life.

“The best. He is a treasure, that one. Anyone else would have crumbled thanks to what we put him through, but he managed to flourish. Now, enough about me and the kid for the moment. I want to talk about you. I want to know everything.”

They chatted for hours, laughing, crying some more, never letting go of each other. Eventually the sun cast bright rays inside the room. Neither Riley nor Victoria had moved from their places on the beds. They hadn’t spoken, either, and Mary Ann assumed they were resting their minds.

She’d never been as happy as she was at that moment, hearing about her mother’s childhood and talking about her own. They lay on the bed, in each other’s arms, breathing each other in. She didn’t want their time together to end. In fact, she no longer saw Aden when she looked at “the body.” She saw Eve, with long dark hair, sharp cheekbones, a small nose and a heart-shaped mouth. An illusion of her own making, most likely, but she didn’t care.

Eve smoothed a strand of hair from Mary Ann’s cheek and hooked it behind her ear. “After I gave birth, they swathed you up and placed you in my arms. I remember looking down at you and thinking how beautiful you were. I could feel myself fading but managed to find the strength to lean down and kiss your forehead. My mind then locked on a single thought: one day. Just give me one day with her. That’s all I needed to have led a full life.”

“And now we’ve had that,” Mary Ann said with a grin.

Eve returned the grin with another hug. “Now we have.”

“And the wonderful thing is, there’s so much more we can do! So much more we will do. Sure, Aden will look funny when I put makeup on him and style his hair, but he’ll—Eve? Anne? Mom?”

Eve had lost her smile, had even closed her eyes. “What’s happening?” she asked, and at first Mary Ann thought she was speaking to her. “Aden? Do you know?” Silence, then, “Ahh.” Her/his expression crumpled, became resigned. “I understand now. And it’s for the best. For you, for Aden.”

“What’s going on?” Mary Ann peered down at her mother with concern. Those eyes were glazing over, blue seeping into brown. Riley was suddenly behind her, her comfort, her support. “Aden, don’t take the body away from her yet. Please.”

“I love you, Mary Ann,” Eve said softly, sadly, peering over at her with those lovely hazel eyes. “This isn’t Aden’s doing. It’s mine. My time to go. I was granted my final wish, and now it’s someone else’s turn so that Aden can have the peace he’s always wanted. The peace he deserves.”

“You plan to go back inside his head, right?” she asked desperately. “You’ll still be there. We can still talk.”

“I’m so sorry, angel. I’m…leaving the body. I can already feel myself separating. Aden, honey,” she said, closing her eyes, “you have to let go. I love you, but this is right. This is how it’s supposed to happen. I realize that now. You gave me back my daughter, granted my last wish, and now I’m giving you that which should have always belonged to you. You.”

Another of those pauses.

“Aden, my sweet boy. You’ll be fine without me. I know you will. You’re strong and smart and all a mother could desire in her son. I will miss you more than I can ever say. All I ask is that you take care of my angel.”

“Eve. Mom!” Mary Ann gripped her shoulders and shook until Riley pried her hands loose. “Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this. Stay. I need you. I can’t lose you again.”

Those lashes flicked open once more, and Eve reached out, touching her face, smiling gently. “I love you so much. You are the best thing I ever did, my greatest joy, and my only reason for living. I will cherish you always. Please don’t forget that.” She pulled Mary Ann up to her face and kissed her forehead, just as she’d done to her as a newborn. Saying goodbye.

“No. No!” Mary Ann shouted, jerking free of Riley and throwing herself at her mother.

Victoria was suddenly there, moving so quickly she couldn’t see her, pushing her back. “You will not hurt him,” the vampire said, hovering protectively over Aden’s body.

Her gaze moved back to Aden. Aden…no longer Eve.

He sat up in a rush, gaze as wild as hers, a tormented “No” screaming from his lips. “Eve! Can you hear me? Eve! You have to come back. I thought I wanted to be free but I was wrong. I was wrong. I need you.”

Mary Ann waited, silent, hoping he would smile at her and tell her Eve was still there, still talking to him. But the minutes dragged by, time seemingly alive, a presence beside her, constantly whispering in her mind: just a few seconds more. Reality never changed.

Finally, his shoulders slumped and he dropped his head into his upright hands.

“She’s gone. She’s really gone.”