“What?” they all asked in unison.

Mary Ann turned and faced him, watery eyes rimmed with red. “You’re not going to believe this. Our mothers—wait.” She rubbed at her temples. “I think I need to start at the beginning. Otherwise, you’ll never believe me. First, our birth certificates came, and it turns out I have two moms. The one who died after giving birth to me and the one who raised me. Second…” She showed Aden the two birth certificates. His eyes widened as he noted their matching birthdays and the exact place of their birth.

“What does it mean?” he asked. “About you and me?”

Her gaze was solemn. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. All I know right now is that my mother, my real mother, could time travel like you until she got pregnant with me, and that she lived next door to yours. Look here.” She held up the certificates again and pointed to their addresses. “I missed it the first few glances because I was so hung up on our birth date and the hospital thing. Actually, I don’t think I would have realized it at all if not for my mother’s journal.

“In one passage, she talked about her neighbor Paula, who was pregnant, as well, only two weeks ahead of her. She talked about how she’d felt calmer when she was around Paula, after an initial creep-out—her words, not mine—so she talked my dad into giving up their apartment and renting the house next door to Paula. But the more advanced her and Paula’s pregnancies became, the more the creep-out feeling returned until they stopped hanging out. She said it became painful for her to be near the woman. Aden, your mother’s name is Paula. They were pregnant with us.”

What did it mean that their mothers had lived next to each other, felt drawn to each other? Enough to have their children on the same day? What did it mean that it had become painful for them to be around each other?

So your parents lived next to each other, and you were born on the same day, Elijah said, and in the same place. There was something in his tone, something both hard and soft that Aden couldn’t identify. Were they on the same wavelength? And you can now do what her mother used to do, what Mary Ann stopped her mother from doing. What she stops you from being able to do.

Maybe not. “What are you saying?” he demanded.

Everyone in the car eyed him strangely.

“Give me a minute,” he said. Their brows remained puckered, but they nodded. He closed his eyes, concentrating only on the people inside his head. “Elijah?”

Think about it, about the similarities.

Similarities. Aden’s mom had calmed Mary Ann’s mom. Mary Ann now stopped Aden. But the fact that Aden could do so, the fact that he possessed the same ability…Dear God.

Eve gasped. I’ve connected the dots. You can’t mean—

I do, Elijah replied flatly.

A tremor moved through Aden. The thought was surreal and wild. Could it be true, though?

“You’ve felt connected to her since the beginning, Eve,” he said.

Yes, I have, but that doesn’t mean what you’re thinking.

“What if I did indeed draw you into my head the day of my birth? We agree you’re human souls without bodies of your own. What if you’re actually ghosts? What if you died the day of my birth, in the hospital I was in? What if you, Eve, really are Mary Ann’s—

I can’t be her mother! I just can’t. I would remember my own child.

And there it was. Out in the open. Eve might very well be Mary Ann’s mother.

“Had you remained outside my body, yes, you might have. But you didn’t. You were sucked into me, or maybe even forced yourself into me for whatever reason, your memories washed. Probably because I was just an infant and my mind wasn’t capable of containing or processing four full lifetimes.”

No, she said on a trembling breath. No. There’s just no way.

He didn’t give up. Now that the idea had been planted, he couldn’t. “That would explain why I’ve wanted to hug her, why she’s wanted to hug me. I think you sensed each other on a soul-deep level.”

“What are you saying, Aden?” Mary Ann’s voice reached him from the darkness, trembling and unsure.

Just like that, another realization slammed into Aden. If the souls were indeed confused ghosts, then he had only to help them to free them. He had only to help them do the one thing they regretted not being able to do. Like John, they would then float away, presumably to the hereafter. They wouldn’t get bodies of their own, but at least they would have peace.

Elijah had already predicted it. One of his companions would soon go free. Which meant, one of his companions was about to have their last wish granted. As motherly as she was, would Eve’s last regret have been not seeing her daughter? Not talking with her, not holding her? Would that be what she’d craved above all else?

There was only one way to find out…

“Pull over, Riley. I think it’s time for Mary Ann to meet her mother.”

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.”