The Noctalis Chronicles Complete Set Page 20

  “I know you're supposed to love the Scarecrow, but I've always had a thing for the Tin Man,” I whisper and watch his reaction.

  “Why?” He doesn't take his eyes off the screen as the Tin Man sings about his missing heart.

  “I don't know. Maybe I have a thing for people who think they don't have hearts when it's really the opposite.”

  He opens his mouth as if he's going to say something and then doesn't. I feel dumb and wish I hadn't said it.

  “Do you ever smile?”

  “Does it bother you?” He still doesn't look away as Dorothy falls asleep in the field of poppies.

  “It's kinda weird,” I admit.

  “It is not natural for us. To smile.”

  I want to mention that they dyed the horses different colors using Jell-O, and they kept trying to lick it off, but this doesn't feel like the right moment.

  “Is that part of the humanity thing?”

  “Yes. When we change, we lose all those things. Like smiling, laughing, breathing, blinking, all of it. We have to remind ourselves how to do them. If we want to blend in.”

  “And you don't want to.”

  “I do not need to. Most of the time.” I've never seen someone so transfixed by a movie before.

  “You could make more of an effort, around me.” I didn't know it bothered me until I said it out loud.

  “Would you wish me to?” Finally, he looks at me. I'm so startled I look back at the TV.

  “I don't want you to do anything you don't want to.”

  “If you want me to smile, it is no trouble for me to try to do so. For you.” The last part makes me grin like a moron, but I smother it as quickly as I can. He still sees it, though.

  “You don't have to do it right now. Just, you know, if you feel like it.”

  “I will try.” His eyes go back to the screen.

  “Cool.”

  We aren't in Kansas anymore.

  Twenty-Five

  “I have something to ask you.”

  Dorothy's back at home, in black and white, surrounded by family. The music builds to a crescendo and it's all beautiful and happy.

  “Go ahead,” he says.

  I've been silent for the rest of the movie, watching him instead of the screen, even though he's so still. This uninterrupted time to look at him in daylight is a luxury. Not that I'm staring or anything.

  “About you being a noctalis and all. And the Claiming.” If I can get away with both.

  “You wish to tell your mother.” It's a statement, not a question.

  “I don't know if I can keep it from her.” It's been less than a day, and I'm about ready to explode. I wouldn't insult her intelligence by thinking that she doesn't notice a difference.

  “Will she believe you?” He still hasn't given me an indication of his views on the subject, which makes me nervous.

  “I think she would.” In reality, I have no idea. There isn't a manual for this sort of thing. I open and close the DVD box. The credits on the movie roll and he turns his head.

  “Then tell her.” As simple as that?

  “You're serious? Isn't there like some sort of noctalis code of silence?” I pull my knees up on the couch and prop my chin on them.

  “There was, back when people believed in magic and witches and gods. Now, if you told someone you were immortal, they wouldn't believe you. If you showed them a video or a picture, they would say it was doctored. We have no reason not to tell who we wish to tell.” That makes me feel kind of special.

  “I guess that makes sense. Don't you worry about the government finding out about you and using you as a weapon?” Peter could be a weapon of mass destruction, no doubt about that.

  “You read too many science fiction novels.”

  I raise my chin. “It could happen.”

  “But it would not.” He's more stubborn than I am.

  “Why not?” Images of police in bullet-proof vests trying to capture Peter as a hurricane of bullets rain on him fly through my head.

  “We would not allow ourselves to be captured. One of our greatest abilities is to melt into the darkness. People also have a tendency to forget us after they have seen us. The mind rejects that which does not fit in with its established beliefs.” He sounds like a college professor.

  “That sounds like a really fancy way of saying that people don't believe in magic anymore, so they reject it even when it's right in front of their faces.”

  “That is what I said.” Only fancier, with bigger words.

  “Whatever. So you're really cool with me telling her?”

  “Yes. Did you think I was lying?” he asks. He tilts his head to the side. I love it when he does that. Somehow it softens him, but I don't know how.

  “No, I just wanted to make absolutely sure.”

  “You can do what you want, Ava.”

  True enough.

  “What about Tex? Would you mind if I told her?

  Blink.

  I'll take that as a no.

  Peter

  I could not stop my hands from trembling. She appeared calm, which was in opposition to the feelings that rolled off her like body heat.

  I had not been afraid of anything in a long time. I supposed afraid was not the right word. I didn't know if I could take any more, but seeing her did make me feel marginally better. Perhaps better was not the word. I felt... safer? No. More content. Things were the way they should be. It also made me want to do other things. Touch her face and stare into her eyes and find out what her lips might taste like. Of course I had thought of these things before but there was immediacy now, as if I would die if I did not do these things. It burned within me, this need to be close to her.

  I did not like it.

  I did like it.

  I didn't know.

  She looked at me differently. I wished I could crawl inside her mind to see what she thought. Was she thinking about me? I hoped she was. I couldn't tell where my feelings began and hers ended anymore. They were all muddled and twisted together and I couldn't find myself.

  Her mother didn't trust me. I didn't trust me, either.

  Ava

  “Can you drive?” I decide that there's no time like the present to fix things with Tex. I also want to put off telling my mom about everything, but I don't want him to know that.

  I tell Mom that Peter and I are going out. I get an eyebrow raise and a, “Drive safe and be back for dinner.”

  We pull out of the driveway just as Dad is pulling in. I don't bother to ask Peter to duck. Dad's not paying attention to me anyway. I wonder what other sparkly thing he's brought home for her. I keep seeing shiny things appearing on her ears or around her neck that weren't there the day before.

  “I am familiar with the mechanics. My brother, Viktor, is fond of cars,” he says.

  “I've never heard you mention him before.”

  He blinks. Noctalis shrug.

  “Well?”

  “He's my next oldest brother.”

  “He's not like...” I don't need to say the name.

  “No. We get along quite well.”

  “Can I meet him?”

  “I don't think that would be wise.”

  “Why not?”

  Blink.

  Grr. He's doing that thing again, but I can feel through the emotional telegraph that's strung between us, there's more to it and he's keeping a lot from me. I turn on the radio and find some Celine Dion. I concentrate on him, trying to pick up his vibes. It's like tuning into radio static, only harder, because I'm part of the static.

  Tex is working late, so I bring her an Irish cream cappuccino, which I know will soften her up. I add a Danish, just to make sure I'm covering all my bases. I make Peter wait in the car, which seems kind of mean, but I want to talk with her without him there giving me vibes or freaking her out.

  “We're closed!” Tex calls as I open the door.

  “Good, that means we're alone.” I walk slowly toward her, pretending to be sexy. Instead of p
laying along, she glares at me.

  “Shouldn't you be wherever it is you go, which you won't tell me about, doing whatever it is you also won't tell me?”

  “I came to apologize and I brought provisions.” I hold up the bag in front of my face like a peace offering. I hope she won't throw it back at me. That cappuccino's hot.

  “Bribery is a start.” She opens the bag and yanks out the Danish. She turns it over before she bites into it. “Talk,” she says around a mouthful.

  “So, here's how it goes. I asked the person if it was okay to tell you, and he said yes. Whatever you think it is, it's not. It's weird. And not weird like someone who LARPs on the weekends or has a multimillion-dollar Pez collection. This is big.”

  “Come on. Now you have to tell me after building it up like that.” She takes a spiteful bite of Danish. At least she hasn't thrown it at me.

  “Okay.” I take a deep, cleansing breath.

  “You don't have to tell me right now,” she says, backpedaling while wiping the cappuccino mustache off her upper lip. “I'm not going to torture you. I can tell that this is tearing you up. I just can't imagine what could be so crazy that you couldn't tell me. All I can think is that it's something illegal and that scares me.”

  “It's not illegal.”

  “That's good to know, because you'd look awful in orange.” She licks some frosting off the Danish. Man, I'm hungry.

  “That is true, but it's not that, I assure you.”

  “Then fine, tell me if you can.” The Danish did it.

  “You're not mad at me?”

  “I'd hate to be one of those petty friends who freaks out when someone has a secret.”

  I let out the breath I've been holding. “And that's why I love you.”

  She looks scandalized. “You'd better love me.”

  “Of course I do, I brought you a Danish, didn't I?” I point to the quickly disappearing pastry.

  “You did.” She smiles and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Just don't make a habit of keeping juicy secrets. I can't stand not knowing things.”

  “Yeah, I'm aware.”

  “Don't push your luck.” She finishes the Danish and licks her fingers. I forgot to get her a napkin. She looks at me expectantly.

  “You should probably sit down.” She grabs two rolling chairs from the back office and crashes into one, swiveling from side to side.

  “So this is going to sound insane. So um, you know that guy, Peter?” Her eyes light up, like she's expecting juicy gossip, like I lost my virginity or something. Oh, if only it was that.

  “Yeah, and?” She waves her hands for me to go on.

  “Anyway, so I've been spending a lot of time with him. There's other stuff I need to tell you, too.”

  “So tell me.” She grips the edge of her seat and leans forward, as if she's going to fall out of the chair if I don't tell her.

  “It's not as easy as you want it to be.”

  “You didn't do it, did you?”

  “What? No!” My cheeks flame for a second. It's time to put an end to this.

  “Peter's a vampire. Sort of.” I'm going to bring him in at the end in case she doesn't believe me, but she will. I know she will.

  “Yeah, okay.” She rolls her eyes.

  “No, seriously.”

  “You're screwing with me.”

  “No, I'm really not.” I start tipping back and forth in my chair, but she grabs it so I'll stop. “He died in 1912. On the Titanic, actually, but that's not relevant.” I wave it off. “So he's like, almost a hundred years old... wait, is he? That's not important.” I'm really messing this up.

  “He changed in 1912, and he's been alive ever since. He drinks blood, but he doesn't have to kill people. He also has wings. So he's kind of an angel, crossed with a vampire, but he's not dangerous.”

  Tex sits in her chair, staring at me. I've never seen quite that expression on her face. If I were to put a description on it, I'd say it was a WTF face.

  “Okay, sooo not what I was expecting.”

  “What were you expecting?”

  She throws up her hands. “I don't know! I thought he was really old and your dad would have had him arrested. I thought that maybe he had a kid or he was married or he was a criminal or you were doing drugs together. I could have dealt with all of those things. All of those things don't require me to believe in vampires.” She spins the chair around a bunch of times, like she's trying to make herself dizzy. She's making me dizzy. I reach out to stop the spinning.

  “Technically he's a noctalis.”

  “What?” She rolls her chair closer.

  “He's called a noctalis. It's a mash-up of nocturnal and immortalis. It's Latin. I didn't make it up, I swear.”

  There's a pause while I watch her think.

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I think I need a minute. Or an hour.” She looks up at the ceiling, as if it holds the answers.

  “Take your time.”

  “So, let me get this straight, okay?” She holds up one finger. “You're hanging out with a vampire.” She holds up another. “And you believed him, and now you expect me to absorb all of this. Do I have that right?”

  “Pretty much.” She puffs out her cheeks and lets a breath out. “Well, shut the front door.”

  “So you're good with this?”

  “I wouldn't go that far.”

  I think it's time for reinforcements.

  “Hold on just a sec.” I dash out the door before she can stop me. Suddenly, I feel like I can't do this alone. It's his secret, too. I haven't even gotten into the Claiming part.

  “Wait, what?” she calls after me.

  Peter's sitting in the car staring at me. It makes my stomach flutter and I have to stop myself from smiling.

  “Can you come in with me and help explain this? I thought I could do it alone, but I need some help.” What I really need is him.

  “Of course.” He slides out of the passenger side and takes my hand as we walk back into the bookstore. I freeze for a second, but he just keeps walking and I'm forced to move. He acts if we've done this hundreds of times, instead of this being the first. His thumb rubs against my knuckle and I forget for a second who I am and what I'm doing.

  “Are you guys like, together?” Tex says as we walk in holding hands. I'm a little distracted by how nice his skin feels. Every time it's a surprise, as if I forget what it's like.

  “Uh,” I stutter as I try to speak.

  “Yes,” Peter says.

  “You are?” Tex says just as I say, “We are?”

  “Yes.” He looks down at me. No blinking.

  “Well, this is all different kinds of crazy.” Tex crosses her arms. I can see her out of the corner of my eye because I'm too busy staring at Peter. God, he's so beautiful. Why is this news?

  “Where are you from?”

  “I was born in New York City.”

  Tex flaps her hands, dismissing that. “No, I mean you, your race or whatever you want to call it. I'm sure you didn't fall from the sky or a comet or ascended from hell. Or did you? Because that would be cool, too.”

  “There is no one origin story agreed upon by noctali. Is there one for humans?”

  “Depends on who you ask,” Tex says. Yeah, that's what I said.

  “No, it was no comets or hell. At least, I don't think so.” I file that away.

  “How do you go out in the sun?” She directs it to Peter. Of course that's the first thing she asks. I answer for him.

  “That whole thing is a myth. He actually needs the sun. Like a plant.”

  “He needs the sun.” She says it like she doesn't believe a word of it.

  “Or those special lights,” I say.

  “Or tanning beds,” he adds.

  I look at him, startled. “Tanning beds, really?” I ask.

  He blinks.

  Tex clears her throat.

  “He's okay with you telling me this?” She gives Peter an uneasy look.

  �
�I am,” he says, finally looking at her.

  We both see her tremble a little. Of course she's afraid of him.

  “Did you hurt her?”

  “Yes. But I don't want to do it anymore.”

  “So I'm supposed to be okay with this? What's done is done and we hug and hang out and I learn to live with this?” Neither of us responds. She starts pacing. “What about the fangs?”

  “No,” he answers.

  “Crosses and garlic?” She fires them off like bullets. I'm pretty sure she wishes she had a gun.

  “Fake.”

  This sets her tapping her chin and walking around the store. I hope she's not having some psychotic break.

  “Huh. So Bram Stoker and Anne Rice had it wrong all along.” She turns around and stares, as if she's remembered we're both there.

  “Pretty much,” I say.

  “And you don't just want her for her blood?”

  “No,” he says. He's still holding my hand, and it makes my heart jump and do funny things that make me feel like I'm having a heart attack. He gives it a squeeze, which only makes it worse.

  “Okay, I'm in. I'll take a first-class ticket on the crazy train.” She throws up her hands as if she's got no other choice.

  “So you're okay with it?

  “Ava, please. I read Interview with a Vampire when I was seven. I had a poster of Dracula in my room.” It was true. She'd gone through a vampire phase. I think I'd been in my unicorn phase at the time. The two things hadn't gone well together, but we'd stayed friends anyway.

  “Um, there's more.”

  “Dear God, don't tell me you're knocked up with a half-vampire baby.”

  That makes me giggle. I look at Peter. His mouth twitches. It's as good as a smile for me.

  “What? How am I supposed to know?” Tex slumps back into her chair.

  “I think I should explain this,” Peter says, letting go of my hand. It makes me want to take it back. He walks toward Tex. She freezes in her chair. He holds his hands in the air, palms facing out. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

  “Sure, whatever you say.” She pulls her knees up and wraps her arms around them like she's protecting herself. Her eyes are wide.

  “Here,” I say, putting myself between them. Without further ado, I wheel Tex's chair to one side of the room. I put myself in the other chair in the middle of the room. Peter gets the idea and stands on the other side, with me between him and Tex.