Aiden grabbed him suddenly and pulled him into a tight embrace. “That’s wonderful!”
Winter gave a little laugh as he hugged Aiden, trying to breathe past the lump that had formed in his throat. Maybe, just maybe, he’d escaped the voices that had steadily followed him since childhood. The constant companions he could not see.
He roughly wiped away unshed tears before he laughed and straightened as Aiden released him. The vampire had been the only father he’d known in his lifetime, the one person he’d whispered his secrets to. He’d always felt different from his older brothers. They were careful to include him, wanted to protect him. Yet something had always held him apart.
Aiden helped get rid of that feeling. The vampire had never tried to coddle and wrap him in cotton. He always encouraged Winter to be bold and daring, but he also had a way of making Winter feel safe at the same time. There was a deep understanding in Aiden’s soft golden eyes, and nothing he said could ever surprise his father.
Winter turned his head to gaze around the surrounding street, a little grateful that they were alone, so no one could wonder at their slightly mad laughing and hugging. He was free. Yes, he was now a vampire, and life would be forever different for him, but he had a second chance. He could finally focus entirely on his mother and brothers. He could be honest with them. He could—
Every muscle in his body froze when his eyes fell on something…something so very strange.
It was a woman in a fancy gown and an equally extravagant bonnet on her head. She was strolling down the street, with a parasol in one hand as if she were out for her afternoon walk, not seeming to care that it was nearly four in the morning.
Oh, and the fact that she was quite clearly dead.
Winter’s heart hammered in his chest for an entirely new reason. Relief was swept aside under a mix of shock and wonder. She was entirely white, and he could see straight through her. As she passed steps and a doorway, he could see them through her body. She was a ghost. A phantom.
“What? What do you see?” Aiden demanded.
Winter looked over at Aiden, taking in his worried gaze, and then at the woman as she continued her walk. “You don’t see her?”
“Who? We’re the only ones out on the street.”
“The only living people on the street,” Winter corrected, his voice low and a little shaky as his newfound hope drained out of him. “I…I can see the dead.”
Had he just traded one trouble for another? His stomach churned, and he was lightheaded. How could this happen? He’d lost the bane of his existence and he was trading it in for what? Ghosts strolling through his life.
Aiden followed Winter’s line of sight, staring at the distant sidewalk, but it was quite clear he didn’t see anything. When he met Winter’s gaze again, there was a deep sadness in his eyes, but his lips were pressed into a hard, determined line. “We should speak to your brothers.”
“No!” Winter snapped.
“Winter—”
“Not yet, at least. They have enough to worry about with Mother. They’re still learning to be vampires. They don’t need to worry about me as well.”
“They deserve to know.”
“I’d agree if it meant they’d have to protect themselves from me or kill me, but I don’t think it will come to that.” Winter grabbed Aiden’s shoulders and placed himself directly in Aiden’s path. Desperation was nearly choking him. He’d been so close. The taste of freedom and hope was still on his tongue. He was not letting that go. Not yet. “Yes, I hear voices, like Mother, but I don’t feel particularly insane now. I don’t feel like you’re attacking me or want to hurt me. I don’t want to hurt my brothers. I’m still me, Aiden.”
“And you will always be my Winter, but this…and so soon…” Aiden’s gentle voice drifted. Pain and fear filled his eyes.
“Maybe it’s my vampiric gift?” Winter suggested, but Aiden didn’t appear convinced. Not that he could blame him. A vampire’s special gift typically didn’t appear for several months, if not years. Yes, there were exceptions, but it didn’t help that Winter had been hearing voices before he’d been turned.
“I’m worried about you. I only want what’s best for you,” Aiden said carefully. He cupped the side of Winter’s head, sadness still scrawled across his face. His father had already suffered the loss of Julianna Varik, the love of his life, to violent madness. Winter knew if he lost him as well, it would kill Aiden. “Winter, I would never hurt you. You’re my beloved son. We’ll protect you, always.”
He meant like they protected Julianna, safeguarding her from the world as well as protecting the world from her. It wasn’t what Winter wanted.