The Noctalis Chronicles Complete Set Page 33

  “Yes.”

  “Your mother knew?” I can't fib about this. He'll know I'm lying, but he's so forgiving of her, it doesn't really matter. She could murder someone, and he'd say, yes dear, I'll hide the body.

  “Yes.” He rubs his chin and puts his fork down.

  “I don't know if I like this or not.” I'm going with or not.

  “Mom likes him.” I feel the need to point this out. It's pretty much Peter's biggest selling point.

  “She does?” I nod so vigorously my hair flops in the cheesecake and I have to wipe it off with my napkin. “How many times has he been here?”

  “A few.” Hundred.

  “Has he been in your room?” Every night.

  “Just to get a book.” Oh the lies, lies, lies.

  “That's all?” He drinks my blood, but no sex. Other than the eye variety. Oh, I also want to drink yours more than I want to eat this cheesecake.

  “Dad, it's not like that. Peter respects me. Mom would never let him in the house if those were his intentions.” We both know she would never open the door to a sleazy guy who just wanted to get in my pants. Not to mention the fact that I'd never be attracted to a guy who would do that anyway.

  “I'm sure he respects you.” He snorts, shaking his head. He definitely put quotes around the respect word. “Just please do not do anything to upset your mother.” Too late.

  “I'm not going to.” That cheesecake is going to burst into flames if I stare at it any longer.

  “Well, I had to do my Dad thing. As long as he is respectful of you and your mother is here to supervise, I think it's okay to have him over. But we'll have to set some rules.” Has he lost his damn mind?

  “Rules?”

  “He leaves before nine-thirty on weeknights, ten on weekends. No unsupervised trips to your room. If you do go to your room, the door must remain open. There will be no making out or horizontal behavior of any kind in this house. Understood?”

  “Sure.” The rules he's set out are so laughable given the situation it's nearly impossible to keep a straight face.

  “One other thing. I want to have a formal introduction with him so I can ask him some questions myself. Get to know him.” He takes a bite.

  “I don't know —” Of course he cuts me off.

  “I want him to come over for dinner one night this week.” Oh damn, that's going to be a problem.

  “He, um, his mom's really strict about having him home for dinner.” I'm flailing like a goldfish on a kitchen counter.

  “I think she can make an exception.” He scoops up the last bite of cheesecake.

  “Maybe he could come over after dinner?” Dad puts his fork down. Great, now he's suspicious.

  “Why don't you want him to come over to eat? I won't cook, we can order something.”

  “No, it's not that.”

  He folds his arms. “Then what is it?”

  “Ava?” Mom's voice silences both of us.

  “Claire, what are you doing up?” Dad rushes to grab hold of her as if she's going to fall.

  “I was lonely.”

  “Oh, Taylor.” He pulls her in for a hug, kissing the top of her head. I put away the cheesecake as they talk in low voices.

  “Maybe we could watch a movie?”

  “Whatever you want,” Dad says. Mom winks at me as he helps her into the living room. Well played, Mom. Well played.

  I half-ass all of my homework as we watch My Cousin Vinny. Mom's snuggling with Dad and keeps laughing. It's nice to hear, even if it's weak. Dad laughs with her, but only after she does. Clearly, he's not watching the movie, and instead, he is watching her. It's kind of sweet. And it makes me think of Peter. I hope he's okay. I feel along the thread that connects us. He's close, but not too close. I'd had enough space to remind me why I never wanted him to leave. Even when it is hard, I am better with him than without.

  I get restless waiting for Peter, and as soon as I can, I kiss my parents goodnight and head up to bed. I know Peter's there, but it's still a relief when I open the door to find him standing in front of my window, wings fully spread. I want to run and throw my arms around him and have him tuck his wings around us, making a cocoon, but I don't.

  Instead, I say, “My dad wants to invite you over for dinner.”

  Peter

  She closes the door and leans on it. “Don't worry, Mom distracted him, so I think he forgot about it, but you need to come over and formally meet him so he can pretend he's all concerned about my virtue and make sure you're not a psycho trying to steal his little girl.” I am always startled by Ava's unique way of putting something. “But that's not important right now. Are you okay? I feel like we left on a weird note.” Her hands flutter as if she wants to touch me and make sure I am fine.

  “I am fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Ava gathers her nighttime clothes, turning her back so I can't see her pick out underwear.

  “You're not lying to me, are you?” Her worry about rejecting me earlier speaks louder than her voice.

  “I would not lie to you, Ava.” I attempt a smile, and she returns with her own. Warm relief floods through her as she goes to take a shower.

  She continues to talk to me through the door. I have to speak loudly for her to hear, and she worries about her parents hearing, but she will not let me in the room while she is showering. I have never seen her naked body. I would like to, but not unless she wanted me to see it. And right now, it doesn't seem like she does.

  I had not thought of having a physical relationship with Ava, at first. After we danced that one night and after the Claiming, I feel differently. I did tell her I'd never been with anyone. I am not quite sure how it would work, even if we were to try.

  “Are you going to see your friend tomorrow?”

  “Yes.” I have not seen Cal in at least twenty years. It will also be the first time I have sought him out.

  “Where does he live?”

  “I don't know.” This is true. The last I knew he was in Canada.

  “So how are you supposed to find him?”

  “Viktor will help me.” He should be back tonight. Another one of Viktor's talents is finding people. I am not sure if it has to do with the bind with Di, but he has always been able to find me.

  “What, does Viktor have built-in noctalis radar?”

  “He is good at finding people.”

  “But this guy is your friend and you don't know where he is?”

  “No. We do not keep in touch.”

  “I can imagine that. I hope you find him. It seems like shooting in the dark, but if you say so.” There is a pause as she rinses out her hair. “I'm sorry about today. I didn't mean to push you away. It's just a lot sometimes.”

  “Yes.” She is speaking of the Claiming. “You do not have to apologize.”

  “I know you don't need me to, but I need to. Does that make sense?”

  “It is a human thing, an apology.”

  “Noctali don't apologize?”

  “No.”

  “Huh.” The water runs as she thinks for a moment. I hear a sponge scrape across her skin. “Do noctali get jealous?” What made her think of that?

  “Probably.”

  “Do you?”

  “No.” I think about it for a moment. I sense the emotion coming from her. I feel it. This is what I do when I get a new emotion from her. I taste it, feel it. Try it on. It is not a good feeling. Yes, I have felt it before. But only since I've met her. I'm thinking about jealousy as she turns the water off.

  “You don't get jealous?”

  “Not until I met you.” I can feel her smiling. She likes that I am jealous.

  A few minutes later, she comes out, wet hair dampening her shirt.

  “I know I shouldn't feel good about the fact that you get jealous because of me, but I kind of do.” She flops on her bed and crinkles her nose at me. I fold my wings and settle to the floor by my trunk.

  “I get jealous
when I can't be with you. I am envious of anyone who gets to be with you.” I don't know why I tell her this, other than I know it's going to make her blush and she does. I like it when she blushes, even though it reminds me more about her blood. I still want it. I was able to stop in the car, but I cannot stop now. Not when she is so warm and sleepy.

  “Ah.” She clutches at her stomach, folding her body around it. She breathes deeply, and I feel guilty for the second time today.

  She gasps. Her pain slices through me, dulling some of the want. But still, I must have her blood to stop her pain. This time.

  “Not again.” She turns her head. I instead take her hand, where a wide bracelet hides my previous feedings. I hate to use the same place, but I don't want more marks on her body. There are many more intimate places I could take it from, but I would not do that to her.

  “Please.” Her pain throbs like a heart. I bite softly into her wrist, clamping my lips around it so I don't miss a drop. The flavor hits me like a lightning bolt. She talked about earth-shattering cheesecake once. This is earth-shattering blood. If I ended my existence at this exact moment, it would have been satisfying. I pull the blood from her veins, letting it burst in my mouth. Her moan of pain does not stop me. It barely reaches me. What does stop me is her hand on my head and her voice.

  “Peter, that's enough.”

  Through the haze that has taken on a brilliant white tint, I hear the words and feel her warm touch. I release her wrist, nearly throwing her back on the bed.

  “God, Peter. That wasn't very nice.” She gets up, going to the sink in the bathroom and turning the water on. She shakes as she rinses her wrist off. The water is pink as it swirls down the drain.

  I give her the only words I have. “I am sorry.”

  “It's okay. It's not your fault.”

  “Let me take care of it.” I pull out the medicine kit from above the mirror. “Sit down.” She crumples to the edge of the tub, shivering even thought the night is warm.

  “I keep forgetting what it's like,” she says as she holds her wrist above her head to stop the bleeding.

  “What is it like for you?” I am curious.

  “Well, it isn't fun, but I'd rather give it to you than not. It's just something we have to go through. Some couples disagree about whether they like Thai food or not. We have this.” She points to her wrist, which has two semicircular imprints of my teeth. I slather it in antibiotic ointment, fighting the urge to lick off the excess blood. I wrap it up and then put the wrist cuff back on.

  “Better,” she says.

  “Good.”

  “I am truly sorry. I did not wish to hurt you.” She closes her eyes.

  “It's fine.” It is not fine.

  “You can tell me.”

  “I don't know. I just wish there was a way we could be normal. Not that you were normal, because I love the way you are.” She licks her lips. “But for your sake, I wish you could be normal. If that makes any sense. I just wish you could experience the things you can't. God, that sounds terrible.”

  “It doesn't.” I understand what she wants. I want it as well. What I used to want, before Ava, was to end my existence. I would still be content with that, if it were to happen. But I also have another wish. That I could go to school with her, holding hands. I wish we could go to the local eatery and I could share a pizza with her. I wish I could experience earth-shattering cheesecake. I want to be human with her.

  “I used to think what I wanted was to end my existence.”

  She shakes her head. “Don't say things like that. I don't like hearing them anymore.”

  “That is not what I want anymore. I wish I could be human with you.”

  “Me too.” I'm still crouched in front of her. She reaches out and pulls my head to her chest. It is a brave thing to do. I still have the taste of her blood on my tongue. I lick my lips, trying to get some of the residue.

  “But you can't have what you want,” she says into my hair. I put my ear to her heart.

  “I have what I want. This.”

  “This is nice.” We stay like that for a while, even though she's trembling.

  “May I get you something?”

  “Maybe some pizza from the fridge?” We both hear her stomach growl in protest from the blood-taking.

  “I will be right back.”

  Her parents are awake downstairs in their bedroom, but it is a simple matter to go to the kitchen and retrieve the pizza, a plate and a paper towel. I stop for a moment to listen to them.

  “Sam, you have to stop pretending. This is happening, and just because you don't want it to, isn't going to make a difference.”

  “I know.”

  “We'll see each other again,” she whispers. I hear them kissing.

  “Why, Taylor, have you gotten religious on me?” She laughs and he tumbles her around.

  “Maybe. It's something to think about. That my soul will live on somewhere.”

  “If anyone's soul deserves it, it's yours.” They resume kissing and I go back upstairs. I snagged a can of ginger ale as well. I heard Ava's mother say once that it was good for an upset stomach.

  Ava is back in bed, covers pulled up.

  “Did you want it warmed up?”

  “No, this is fine.” She takes the pizza and munches on it. “How are you feeling?”

  “Satiated.” It's what I always tell her afterward.

  “Happy?”

  “Yes.” No one has ever asked me if I was happy. I never was, so it didn't matter. I smile.

  “Almost normal,” she says.

  Eight

  Ava

  Peter stays in my bed again, so I guess you could say that we slept together, even though he doesn't technically sleep. I'd broken one of Dad's rules just hours after promising not to. Go me. Still, it is nice to wake up in the morning and see him there, still reading.

  “Did you sleep well?” Not really. I had the stupid burning dream again. I need to ask Tex about that book. I wonder if there's anything in there about getting rid of dreams. If that's possible.

  “Yeah.” I think he can tell when I'm lying, but he knows I have a good reason, or he just doesn't care and lets it go. I love that about him. It's insane that I can let him literally suck the life out of me and love him while he's doing it. But in a way, all relationships do that. They take from you.

  My wrist hurts like hell, as if someone's been sawing through it. Well, not really sawing. More like chewing. Ew. It wasn't like that. If you didn't know what he was doing, you'd think he was kissing my wrist. Just a hickey. Only with teeth.

  The blood is a small price to pay for all that I get from him. He may not be able to love me, but he can do a whole lot of other things. I've experienced more love from Peter, even if he doesn't call it that, than most people get. I'm lucky, honestly.

  “I must go.” He's doing that distance-gazing thing, as if he's reaching for something he can't have. Peter may not be able to smile, but he does longing really well. “Viktor is waiting for me.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He told me.”

  “What?” Peter points out the window. Slowly, I get to my feet and peer out the curtain. Oh hey, Viktor's down there. I wave to him. He doesn't wave back.

  “I'll miss you,” I say, looking down at my wrist, at the mark he left on me.

  Something makes me look up. He's smiling. It's a good one, too. It splits his face and makes these dimples appear around his lips and really, really makes me want to kiss him. Like, throw myself on him and kiss him and have him kiss me back and put his hands...

  I shake my head. His smile fades.

  “How was that?”

  Perfect.

  “Good. Keep working on it.” I feel like I should give him a cookie or something for making such a good smile.

  “What happens after I conquer the smile?”

  “We'll graduate to laughing. I'll have a ceremony and you can wear a mortarboard and toss it into the air.” He looks conf
used, which ends up making me laugh.

  “You didn't have graduations back in the day?”

  “Yes, we did. But you only got a mortarboard for college graduation. I was a junior when I died.” It always throws me off when Peter talks about his human life. Like he's talking about a different person he used to know. It both fascinates me and makes me feel really young and inexperienced. Also unworthy.

  “Well, we'll have to make up for that.” I really need to get ready. All this chat time with Peter is going to make me late. Since he entered my life, I'm almost always late.

  “I must go,” he says again.

  “I know. Will you be back tonight? I've got my date with Jamie, but I'll be home before nine.” I have reservations about him being far away, but I don't want to be a needy girlfriend, so I keep them to myself.

  “Yes. I will be here when you get home, but I may have to go farther away than I have.”

  “Do what you have to do. I'll survive.” Barely.

  “I know you will. I hate to leave you.” Not as much as I do.

  “Well, the sooner you go, the sooner you'll get back.” He stands next to me at the window. I want to hug him or something, but don't. I almost fall off my feet when he kisses me. His lips are not on mine one minute, and then they are. An ambush kiss. I'm so startled that I don't do anything for a few seconds. Maybe more than seconds.

  Then I'm kissing him back, reaching my arms around his neck. He puts one hand on each side of my face and pulls my head back so I'm looking right into his eyes. He doesn't even have to pull me in. I'm already there.

  “What was that for?” I don't need to mention it's the first time he's kissed me. Usually, I'm the one making the move. He lets me, but that's not the point. I'm always the one leaning in.

  “I wanted to take the taste of your lips with me.” Oh swoon. He's been saying increasingly more swoony things lately. It totally makes up for the blood-taking.

  I give him one more kiss.

  “There.” I bless my stars that I brushed my teeth before he decided to do this.

  “Good-bye, Ava-Claire.”

  “Good-bye, Peter. I'll see you tonight.” He blinks in the affirmative, slides out the window and falls to the ground. Of course he lands like a circus acrobat. I hear Dad's car pulling out of the driveway. Good thing he's leaving.