The Noctalis Chronicles Complete Set Page 49

  “I will be back,” Peter says.

  “Fine, whatever.” I love you, I love you, I love you. I turn my back to him and I can already feel the pain building in my chest at the thought of him leaving. I really didn't think he'd actually go through with it, but here we are. God this sucks so much I can barely stand. Everything in me, all that I am screams at me to go to him. But this is his plan, and I have to trust it. A warm nudge on our connection makes me feel a tiny bit better. But that feeling dissolves like sugar in a glass of iced tea when he takes to the sky.

  “Oh God,” I say, falling to the ground. I don't even hear Cal leave. Tex tries to hold me up, but I fall like a boulder into a pond.

  “What's wrong with her?”

  “It is the Claim. It makes them impossible to be apart.”

  “Then why did he leave? And why is he such a douche all of a sudden?”

  “He had to.” Viktor doesn't answer the second question.

  “That's crazy! What are we supposed to do?”

  “Get her inside.”

  “How? Seriously, how? Her parents are sleeping.”

  “I will take her in and come back for you.” Viktor picks my body up somehow. I've curled into the fetal position, because it's all I can do. Wind whooshes by me and I'm being lifted and carried. Without a sound, Viktor opens the door to the house and carries me to my room.

  “I will return,” he says.

  I fold myself on the bed. It's bad. Really bad. I'd cry but I can't remember how. The pain is a blazing knife that rests inside a forge that has since been sunk into my chest, slowly and carefully. Twisting, burning, stabbing. It is so excruciating, I can't even keep my eyes open.

  A warm body is thrown on top of me.

  “Oh my God, you're burning up. What do we do?”

  “Go and soak some cloths in cool water.” There's a rustle as Tex tries to go as quietly as she can. Viktor kneels next to me.

  “Ava, I am going to leave you for a few minutes. There are things I need to take care of, but I will leave you here with Tex. You will be fine. I will not let anything harm you.” With that, he's gone. Something cold touches my face and drips into my hair.

  “Tell me what to do. I'm so bad at this. You're always the one who takes care of me when I'm drunk and I just don't know what to do.” Her voice is bordering on hysterical as water drips down my neck.

  “Shut up,” I manage to say through my teeth. “Just shush.” I crack my eyes open and she's flapping her hands over me. Even though I'm in so much pain, I see that she's scared out of her mind. Tex almost never gets scared like that. She's never faced anything to make her look like that.

  She opens her mouth again and then shuts it. I close my eyes and wait to die.

  It could be hours or minutes later that two people enter the room.

  “Hello, lovely,” a surprisingly gentle voice says in my ear. The accent is British, but the words are so kind that it can't be Ivan. “You have gotten yourself into a fix, I'd say.” My head is lifted and a glass of water presses to my lips. I try to swallow, but it is not easy.

  “We're going to give you something to help you sleep.” I try to say no, but talking hurts too much. I barely feel the stick of the needle in my arm. Someone tucks me under my covers and pushes my hair away from my face. The hand is cool and soft.

  The pain dulls a little and my eyes are impossible to open. As I fade off, I hear Tex asking what they did to me and Viktor saying he's taking her home. The last thing I hear is Ivan promising to take care of me.

  Twenty-Five

  Peter

  It takes several tries before I am able to fly very high. The line that ties me to Ava yanks me backward. As did the pain. It is hot this time — a fire lit within that wants to consume me. I pull at the connection, trying to do what I need to do to save her. Ivan will protect her. So will Viktor.

  I swerve drunkenly, not flying with my usual speed. I dip low, keeping Cal in my sights. He moves fast, but not faster than I can fly. Still, at this rate, it will take us hours to get there. I cannot take too much time. I must get back to her. But first, I need to see what Cal is up to.

  We travel about seventy miles and I have to stop. I swoop down to where Cal waits for me in the middle of a clearing next to a small pond. We are going south along the highway.

  “It is painful, yes?”

  “It can be.” I do not want him to see that I can barely stand.

  “It was a rash decision.”

  “I would say so. You are not one for rash decisions.”

  “Usually.” He doesn't ask me for the reason for the rash decision.

  “Shall we go?”

  “Yes.” A pang sends me to my knees.

  “Can you fly?”

  “Perhaps not. I will run.” My wings take a long time to dissolve into my back. All of my abilities are dulled. I am at my best when I am with her.

  I stand and use my legs to propel me forward. Cal drops and uses his hands and legs to run with me. We are going slowly; I can tell. Soon, it is all I can do to move at all. I stop again. We are nearly a hundred miles from her, and I am not sure how much farther I can go or if I will hit a wall and not be able to go on.

  The wall comes twenty miles later. I cannot go on.

  “Peter?”

  “I cannot move.” I have to tell him the truth. He stands over me, an unfathomable expression on his face.

  “Wait here.” I have nothing else I can do. I cannot move at all. I turn on my back and stare at the stars. I hope she is seeing the same stars. Orion's belt dances above me. I close my eyes and try to bring up her face. Dark hair in loose curls, ivory skin, those green eyes. The most perfect face. It blurs, waving in and out, like a reflection on a disturbed pond.

  “Hello, Peter dear.”

  It is Di. I cannot make my jaw work to give her a response. This is what I suspected. She found a loophole. Ava was right.

  “You didn't listen to me. This girl is destroying you, little by little. You should have killed her.”

  I clench my teeth and try to think of Ava's face.

  “You made me do this. I wouldn't have if you would have done it. Cal, precious?”

  “Yes, mother.”

  Ava would slap me for being so blind all those years.

  Cal picks me up and puts me over his shoulder. I can do nothing to stop him. Di puts her face against mine.

  “I missed you.”

  “I love you,” I say, because it is the only thing I can say. It is true. Even after all this time and all she has done, the love is there but not by my choice. The promises we make, we cannot break.

  “I know,” she says against my cheek. “I am doing this for you.”

  We run farther away from Ava. I know not where we are going. It does not matter. I am completely paralyzed within a few miles. My eyes stay open, staring at Cal's furred back. Di runs gracefully next to me. She could fly, but chooses not to.

  Against the two of them, I am useless. There is only one thing to do. Ava, Ava, Ava. Ava-Claire, my Ava, mine, mine, mine. I call out her name in my head, projecting it along the connection I can no longer feel since it is stretched too tight. For the first time since I became a noctalis, I pray. I ask God if he could help her. I did not care about me. But if I am like this, it means that so is she. I could not have that. I pray like I used to when I was young.

  As I lay me down to sleep... Please help my Ava. Let her survive.

  I say it over and over to the beat of Ivan's walk. It is the only thing I can focus on. It is the only thing I can hold onto. Everything else is slipping away. With. Each. Step...

  Ava

  I finally wake from the pain/drug-induced haze. Something has changed. I slit my eyes open, which takes the force of pushing boulders. The light in the room is soft and gray. Morning is approaching.

  “Something's wrong.” The words come out of my mouth like mush, but a voice answers me. My lips crack like earth in the desert.

  “I would certainly
say so. I thought we were going to lose you.”

  “Why isn't he back?”

  “I warned him. I told him this would happen. No matter, it all leads to the same end. All roads lead to Rome, do they not?” Ivan said something like that before, but I can't remember when.

  He turns from the window and walks into my vision. He peers down at me as if he's never seen me before. “You look like death warmed over.”

  “Thanks.” I try to keep the talking to a minimum. “Where's Peter?”

  “Would you like my honest answer? Or the answer you want to hear?” What kind of question is that?

  “Honest.”

  “Probably buried in a hole somewhere. Or a dungeon. Perhaps a mausoleum. Someplace dramatic. If there is one word to describe Di, it is dramatic.”

  “Di?” What did she...? Oh. Fuck.

  “Take me to him.”

  “Very persuasive, my love. You are not really in a state to be making demands, are you?” His head tips to the side, but it's not like when Peter does it. I close my eyes to shut it out.

  “Why?”

  “Because he loves you.”

  “Can't.” I hear more than see him blink.

  “Nevertheless, he does. And Di does not want to lose him.”

  “Save him.”

  “You know that is the last thing I want.”

  “Save him. Save me.”

  “Interesting. Even in this state, you try to manipulate me. Bravo.” My bed dips as he sits down. If he starts clapping, I'm going to lose it. Not that I have much to lose anyway.

  “Save me. Get revenge later.” I try to reach out to him. He moves away. Yes, that's right. I can't touch him. But didn't he touch my head? Oh what the hell does it matter? He laughs and I wish I could cover my ears.

  “Oh, love, you are something. I can see now why he Claimed you. Not that I would do it myself.”

  “Josephine?” I try to make my voice go up at the end of the word so he understands it's a question. He stares at me for a second and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would kill me if he could.

  “She wanted to be married first.” His voice is quiet. He looks away from me, as if seeing me is painful.

  “Why?” My voice is going. I don't have much time. I feel my life slipping away. I fade out for a moment.

  “That was who she was. I never even had a chance to kiss her.” Wow. That's crazy. I can't imagine that. My mind goes away again, and I feel like there are little lights popping in my brain. It won't be long now.

  “Revenge.” It comes out “rshsmgsche.” He understands anyway.

  “True.” He turns again, and I can feel him watching me. “There is something about you. Even in that state. You remind me of —” He cuts himself off. Huh. I fade again. I try to speak again, but it doesn't happen. And then I feel it. So faint and far away I almost don't feel it. A tug. Somehow I get the strength to open my eyes and move my arms to try and push myself up. I slump back down, my face smashing against the covers. I panic a little, because the fluffy blanket is shoved in my face and I can't breathe. Ivan moves it. I move my eyes up to meet his.

  “Please.” My arm comes up and I reach for him, palm up. Even though I know he can't touch me.

  “You, my lovely, have put me in an interesting situation. On one hand, I can leave you here and you will probably succumb. But my quarrel is with Peter and not you. No matter what I have done, I do not take a life lightly. I see you do not believe me, but it is so. On the other hand, if I bring you to Peter, then he owes me for saving you. It would not exact my revenge, but maybe it can be exacted another way. Having Peter owe me a favor I would be able to cash in at any time might come in useful.” He turns around, looking at the sky for a moment. “And I do not want Di to win. While Peter took something from me, so did she.”

  I'm not going to mention the fact that if Di hadn't changed him, he wouldn't have met Josephine, because then where would we be? I don't care if Peter owes him a million favors if it means we get to be together.

  “So,” he says, turning back around and clapping his hands together, “it seems as if a gallant rescue is in order, my fair lady. I guess that makes me the noble steed.” I would love to laugh at that, if we were in any other situation. But we're not, and all I can do is breathe and not die.

  “This will be a little tricky since I cannot touch your skin. Ah,” he says, reaching for a blanket. I lie there as he wraps me up like a human burrito. My arms and legs are so tight that I couldn't move them if I wanted to.

  “Sorry, sweet blossom, but this is going to be a little awkward for a while. Don't fret, I'm fast.” He winks at me. Didn't know he could do that. He leans down and sort of folds me in half to get me into his arms. He pulls the window up and we are blasted with cool air. It's not summer yet.

  It's a good thing I can't see, because then I'd be freaking out more. If I was able to freak out, which I'm not at the moment.

  “Ready?”

  I make a sound at the back of my throat that means, “Sure, why not?”

  He laughs again and then we're in the air and landing on the ground with a soft thump.

  “Onward we go,” he says, and then he's running. I have to close my eyes against the flashes of the trees that zoom by. If I could move or do anything, I'd probably throw up. This is different than flying. Not that the ride isn't smooth, but I can see so much that it makes me sick.

  “How are you?” he says a few minutes later.

  I whimper, hoping that he understands it means, “As good as it gets right now.” Like before when Peter left me, it takes a while for me to even sense that I'm feeling better. It would be the equivalent of being hit by a bus and being hit by a truck. Only marginally better. So small that I'm not sure if it's real.

  “Where are we?”

  “Portsmouth, New Hampshire. I am following their scent.”

  “How much longer?”

  “I think you would be the one to tell me that.” I tug on the connection, so relieved when I discover a little resistance. Thank all the stars. It's not huge, but it's something. I just wish...

  “What is it like?” Ivan's voice startles me. Even in my weakened and drug-addled state, I am still surprised.

  “What is what?” I can't finish even though the pain is lessening.

  “To be Claimed. I have heard of it, but have never seen it done. It seems as if all it causes is agony, from what I have seen.”

  “Not agony always.”

  “Yes, I can imagine that. I see some of the benefits for Peter, but your motivation is still a mystery.”

  “Love. Him.” I clench my teeth around the words. I wish I could forge my words into daggers and have them by my side. Love as my weapon of choice.

  “I see.” But really, he doesn't. I want to ask him more about Josephine, but a little nudge interrupts me.

  “We're getting closer.”

  “But we are still miles away.” Miles and miles to go. Like that Robert Frost poem.

  Peter.

  Twenty-Six

  Peter

  The place in which they put is dark and damp and echoes. From what I can tell, it is some sort of underground bunker. It is surrounded by an old stone foundation. Perhaps it was once a house or part of a military barracks. And now it will be the place I spend the rest of my eternity. Or at least as long as they decide to keep me here. They do not say much, but from what I can tell, they plan to leave me here and see if Ava comes. What the purpose of this is, I cannot understand. My mind is not sharp. I need her.

  I call out again.

  “Peter dear, I am sorry about the accommodations, but you are used to it, I assume.” I can't answer her. She reaches down with soft hands and strokes my face. Di has incredibly small hands. They are about the size of a child's.

  “You were always my favorite,” she says, licking my cheek. “My youngest.”

  “Cal.” I am trying to ask about him, when I feel it. Feel her. It is faint and still so far away, but she is
there. She is coming. I knew I could count on Ivan.

  “Cal is my oldest. He was the first. You didn't know that, did you?”

  “No.”

  “I was barely transformed myself. I had run away from Hartfield and found him in an alley. I seem to like the lost causes, do I not?”

  I asked Ava once if she thought I was a lost or hopeless cause. I was both before I met her.

  She is coming.

  “He had something about him that I couldn't understand. I was inches away from killing him, but still his heart beat on. I couldn't extinguish that, could I?” Cal steps from behind her. She smiles at him and he smiles back.

  “My first. We had some times, didn't we?”

  “We did.” His voice changes and his accent shifts to a lower-class British drawl. The shift of accent is like a light turning on and off. Cal has never told me of his maker, his origin. I had never asked. I knew little of Di's origin as well. I had never asked.

  “And what did you promise me, Cal?”

  “That I would do whatever you asked of me.” And there is the loophole.

  I close my eyes again and picture her face: smiling, with the sun shining down on her; Ava, letting me brush her silky hair; staring up at the stars; singing along with the radio; baking with her mother; and relishing the taste of lemon meringue pie. Ava, Ava, Ava.

  She is coming.

  Closer, closer, closer.

  “And you have done whatever I asked of you.” Her hands caress his face, just as she had mine. Cal could not, or decided to no longer hide, his adoration for her. His hands entwine with hers, dancing together as if they have done so for eternity.

  Just a little longer, and she will be here.

  Relief slowly trickles through me, starting at the tips of my toes, my fingers, the top of my head. My fingers finally work and I twitch them back to life. Very soon I will be able to walk. But I must not let them know that. I stay still.