The Noctalis Chronicles Complete Set Page 55

  Ava rushes to get a bandage to cover the wound. Viktor takes her finger and licks the last of the blood from it.

  “Good boy,” she says, patting him on the cheek with her other hand.

  Ava comes back with some gauze and bandages Texas' arm.

  “That wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. Too bad we couldn't, like, suck it out and store it or something. Or freeze it! We could make you blood pops.”

  “Doesn't work that way, Tex,” Ava says, gathering up the remnants of the bandage packaging. “The blood is only good when it's in your body. I don't really understand it, but that's how it works. It's no good once it's left your body.”

  Texas' eyes go wide and she stares at Viktor. “You know I'm starting my period next week. You're not gonna attack me, are you?”

  “That is not the kind of blood we desire. So you are safe. You will smell better during those days, but I will not attack you, Tex,” he says.

  “Good to know, 'cause that's really gross, FYI.”

  “Yeah, I thought about that, too,” Ava says, squirming in her seat. Humans are so squeamish sometimes with silly things.

  “It is not something you have to worry about,” Viktor says, glancing at me.

  “Good to know,” Texas says, glancing at her wrist. “I'm going to need to get some chunky bracelets or a watch or something. How much are you gonna need?”

  “Not much,” Viktor says, which is what I told Ava.

  “God, it's like you all use the same playbook,” Ava says, brushing her hand across her neck where the scarf hides her wound.

  “How's your neck?” Texas asks, noticing.

  “It's fine, actually. I think I'm getting numb to it or something.” She shrugs.

  “We should do something,” Texas says, getting up. She wobbles for a moment on her feet and grabs her head. “Whoa, head rush.”

  “Be careful,” Viktor says, getting up and holding her until she's steady. I see his hands linger on her. He has adjusted to the Claiming well.

  “I have to pee,” Texas announces when she's stable on her feet.

  “I'll go with you. Make sure you don't fall in.” Ava takes Texas' arm and leads her down the hall, throwing me a look over her shoulder.

  Viktor and I wait until the girls are out of hearing range and hear their chatter resume before we speak.

  “Who will you contact?”

  “I'll start with Kamir and Rasha and move from there. I have not seen them in about forty years, but that is not unusual for them.”

  Kamir and Rasha are from India and prefer to stay in seclusion, but they are both at least five-hundred and have made many other noctali. Somehow they became friends with Viktor before I was changed, and they kept in touch via email since then.

  “Do you think they can be trusted?” I ask.

  “I would not go to them if I didn't think so. I never trusted Cal, but I trusted you,” Viktor says. The quip would bother me, if I were bothered by such things.

  “Do you think they will come to us?”

  “They enjoy travel every fifty years or so. I do not think they have been to Maine before, so that should attract them. They rarely leave their palace.” Viktor told me stories of their sumptuous palace and their many children.

  The girls are coming back, so we stop talking before they come down the hall. Ava and Texas are laughing, so that is a good sign.

  “Stop talking about us,” Texas says, sitting back down next to Viktor. “Hey, we were talking and we think we should totally do a human night. Ava told me about when you went to Miller's, and I think it's an awesome idea. We never really got to do our date. Did you have anything in mind?”

  “Yes. I have not been on a boat in a very long time. I flew when I came here a few weeks ago. Would you like that?” Viktor says.

  “As long as you call me captain, and I get to wear one of those awesome hats,” Texas responds.

  “I will find one for you, captain.” He salutes her. She giggles and ducks her head into her shoulder.

  “Gag me,” Ava whispers.

  “I heard that,” Texas says, glaring at Ava.

  “I meant you to,” Ava says, sticking her tongue out at Texas. “We should get back. My mom's doing a thing and she needs some help.” She twists her hands together as she does when she's nervous.

  “Speaking of your mom, I haven't been over to your house in forever. What's up with that?”

  Ava cringes and I feel her anxiety. She hasn't told Texas about her mother's illness, but I know she will feel better after she does.

  “Tell her,” I say.

  “Shut up,” Ava says, looking down at her hands, spreading her fingers out.

  “Tell me what? Are you about to tell me the thing that you've been keeping from me that I've been trying to get out of you forever?” Texas exaggerates the word forever, drawing it out.

  “No,” Ava says, refusing to look up. I take one of her hands. Her stress moves to me, and I want her to get it out so she will stop obsessing about it. I am uncomfortable with her stress.

  “Yes, it totally is. You'd better tell me right now, or I'll sick my noctalis on you.”

  “He can't touch me, moron,” Ava says, finally looking up. Her eyes are hard, determined. She takes a deep breath, and I can see the words in her mind before she says them. It takes a few seconds for her to arrange the words in the way she wants them.

  “My mom is sick. Really sick. She's, um... she's terminal.”

  Texas' hand flies to cover her mouth. “What?”

  “She's not going to make it,” Ava says, tears forming in her eyes and spilling onto her cheeks. I want to wipe them away, but all I can do is hold her hand and give her strength.

  “Oh my God. I can't believe it. I thought she was doing okay.”

  “She's not.”

  “Ava,” Texas says, shaking her head. She gets up and gives Ava a hug, pulling her to her feet and wrapping her arms around her. Ava finally breaks, sobbing on Texas' shoulder. Her pain rips through me, but I don't get up to comfort her. This is something she needs to do with Texas.

  “I'm not mad. I just wish I could have been there for you. I've been so horrible to you, making you go to all those parties and everything. Why didn't you say anything?”

  “I couldn't. I didn't know how. If I say it out loud, that makes it real, and it can't be real, Tex, it just can't.” She sniffs loudly.

  “I know, Ave, I know.” Texas rubs her back in soothing circles, rocking her slowly from side to side, as if they are slow dancing. Ava's shoulders shake and her crying fills the room. It is all I can do not to seize her and try to fix it.

  “Why does this have to happen to me?”

  “I don't know, honey, I don't know. I don't have answers for you. But I'm here for you, you know?”

  “Yeah,” Ava says.

  “Bad things happen to good people sometimes and there isn't a reason for it.”

  “I'm so angry,” Ava says.

  “I know.”

  “Why would God do this to us?”

  “I don't know, honey, I don't know.” Texas doesn't have answers, but her words have a calming effect on Ava, and her sobs slow to just tears. She wipes her eyes and Texas looks down at the wet patch Ava left on her shirt. “What are friends for? To let you snot and cry all over their brand-new shirts.”

  “Right,” Ava says, and they both laugh.

  Viktor watches them, as if he's fascinated. They are rather fascinating. Both of them.

  Four

  Brooke

  The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a dark place. My eyes cracked open, and my nose was punched with a musty odor. My body felt like it had been run over several times. Everything hurt, even my hair, although I knew that was impossible. I tried to move, but it wasn't going to happen.

  “You're fine, love,” a British voice said. It was bright and sharp in the darkness. My eyes started to pick out details. I was in a stone room, about twenty feet square. The floor was dirt,
and the ceiling was about twelve feet high. From the way his voice echoed, I could tell we were underground. I took a breath and heard an awful sound. I panicked, trying to get up. A hand touched my arm, pushing me back down. A face came into view. It was familiar, but not. I wanted him to make the pain stop.

  “Do you know who you are, love?”

  “Brooke. I'm Brooke.” My voice sounded different. It was clear and cold. I took another breath and heard the awful noise again. It was almost like a wheeze. As if the air was scraping the insides of my lungs.

  “You don't need to breathe, Brooke. Your lungs no longer need the air. Do you understand?”

  All at once I was assaulted by the room, him, the smells, and the sounds, and it was all too much. I closed my eyes, hoping it would go away. I just wanted it to go away.

  “It hurts.”

  “I know. It will be over soon.” A cool hand brushed my forehead. “Open your eyes, love. This is a whole new world, and soon you'll get to be a part of it. There are so many things I want to show you. We're going to see the world.”

  “What happened?” The more I thought about the pain, the worse it got. I needed to stop thinking about it.

  “I told you I was going to make you immortal. That's why you don't need to breathe. Look at your arm. It's healed from where I cut you.”

  I glanced down at my arm. It was perfect as I turned it over. It also had a subtle glow in the dark of the stone room. I turned it over, marveling at how smooth my skin was.

  “Just one more day and you'll be perfect. Then we'll see what you're made of.”

  “What's your name?” I couldn't remember his name. I could only remember mine.

  “I'm Ivan.” He stroked my face with the back of his hand. His eyes were two different colors. The left one a deep brown, the right green. They had flecks of other colors in them, subtle as a whisper. I stared at them and they stared back at me. I slowly sat up, putting my hands on the ground. The soil was moist and reeked of decay, dust and years.

  “Steady, there.” He helped me to my shaky feet. His arms were strong, but so were mine. I felt his skin give beneath mine. “You're strong.” He seemed surprised. He tried to pull me into his arms, but I resisted. What was he doing? Why was he touching me like that? I moved away from him, slamming my back into the stone that encased the room. There was a bang, and little bits of stone and dirt rained down on us.

  “Easy, easy,” he said, holding his hands up.

  I wanted out of the room. I ran to the other side, which took less than a second. I tried the other. I just wanted out. Out of this room, out of my body.

  “Brooke, listen to me. You can't go out or you'll die. Do you understand?”

  I looked up and saw a trapdoor. It was high up, but with a jump I could do it. Ivan's words reached me.

  “I want to get out,” I said.

  “I know you do, but you can't right now. We just need to sit for a while.”

  I looked at the door again, but his words scared me. I didn't want to die.

  “Do you remember anything?”

  “Anything about what?” I searched my brain. I remembered my name; I remembered him. But... nothing else. “What's happening?”

  “Brooke, you're sixteen years old. You liked a boy named Dillon, and your best friend is Cara. Do you remember that?”

  As he said the words, murky images swam through my brain, but as soon as I tried to grab them, they slipped through my fingers. I tried harder and I was able to hold onto them for moments before they slipped away again.

  “You think you hate your mother and her boyfriend. Your favorite color is sea-foam green. You hate Mondays and flossing and eggs. You love moonlight and silver jewelry and sunrises. Remember?”

  I heard his words, and they triggered little flashes in my mind. Little pieces that I tried to pick up.

  Yes, I was Brooke. I'd gone to hang out with my friends at the railroad tracks and met Ivan. He'd taken me into the woods and I thought he was going to kill me, but we talked instead. He kissed me. And now I was here.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “It's 6:34 a.m.”

  “What day is it?”

  “It's Sunday.”

  “Sunday?” I had to reach, but I remembered the night I'd gone out had been Friday. Two days.

  “Where are we?”

  I traced my hands on the walls, trying to feel our location. It was cool in this room, around 52 degrees. I didn't know how I could tell the temperature. I just could. Like how I could smell that no living person had been down here in at least fifty years. This was a secret place. Only rats and other creatures had been here. I could smell them, hear them scurrying around. They didn't bother me. I used to be afraid of rats, I thought.

  “We're in New Hampshire still. I would have carried you farther, but the sun was coming up and I had to get you out of it.”

  “Why?”

  “The sun will hurt you now. Soon you will revel in it, but for now it will hurt you. You're safe here,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “You like that word, don't you? I am not sure I can answer that. I am not normally impulsive. My plan was to kill you. To drain your blood. That is what our kind do. That is what you will do. We need blood to function. But something about you, maybe it was your eyes, or maybe it was something else... I don't know. Something about you reminded me of her. Of my Josie. She has been gone for so long, but I always search for her. I've been searching for her since the moment I lost her.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She died, a long time ago.” He looked away from my face.

  “You love her.” Anyone could have seen that.

  “Yes, I love her. I will always love her. Even if I could love someone else,” he said, taking a step away from me.

  “Do you love me?” I asked.

  “Not yet. But I could. There is another girl who — never mind. She is in love with my brother.”

  “Ouch. So you're stuck in the friend zone.” I didn't know where the words had come from. My mouth said them without thinking.

  He stared at me for a moment. “You are still somewhat human. I hope that doesn't change too much.”

  He touched my face and I moved away. I didn't want him touching me. I remembered the kiss. What was wrong with me? I knew nothing about him, he'd done something to me and I'd kissed him.

  “How long do I have to stay here?”

  “Until something happens.”

  “Until what happens?”

  “You'll know,” he said, brushing my hair back.

  “Stop touching me.”

  He smiled, stepping back. “Will you promise me one thing, love?”

  “Maybe. Depends on what it is.”

  “Will you promise me that you will spend one entire day with me?”

  “A whole day? I don't even know you.”

  “Will you do that for me?”

  Did I have a choice? Maybe he would let me go. “Yes.”

  “You have to say that you promise.”

  “I promise.”

  The air in the room changed, crackling with something that I could taste on my tongue. Something settled over me like a heavy blanket. I looked at him and he smiled at me.

  “Welcome to eternity, Brooke.”

  Five

  Ava

  Telling Tex about my mom is not nearly as horrible as I thought it would be. Isn't that always the way? You make things up in your head to be way bigger than they are, and afterward you wonder what you were so worried about.

  It's in that moment that I know there's a reason I've stayed friends with her. She drives me nuts most of the time, and her energy is sometimes too much, but she is always there for me. She's my soft place to fall. Peter is the one who catches me. I need both of them in my life.

  She gives me another hug before we leave and promises to call me later to talk. Viktor stands next to her, and I know I'm going to get used to seeing a large, blond Russian standing next t
o my best friend. She is completely smitten with him, and he seems pretty far gone as well. That damn Claiming does it every time. It's almost like a weird sort of marriage. I promise to love, honor and give you all my blood for as long as I shall live, and you shall exist.

  Peter leaves me at the end of my driveway and runs into the woods. I guess he's going to do laps around my house. The image of that is a little comical. Poor guy.

  Mom is elbow-deep in a huge bowl of something when I walk in, and the smell of blackberry jam cake fills the air. Next to blood, it's my favorite smell. Not that I like the smell of blood, because what normal person does? Not me, that's who.

  “How was your time with Tex?”

  She's mixing whatever it is by hand, turning it over and over in the bowl. I adjust my scarf to make sure it's in the right spot. I looked up some scarf tying techniques online, but I haven't tried many of them out yet.

  “Well, it started out good.”

  “What does that mean?” she says, raising her eyebrows at me. She's put on her everyday wig, and one of her old summer dresses. It looks good on her, but she needs more to fill it out. They're definitely going to notice that.

  I take a breath. “I told her about you.” Macaroni salad. That's what's in the bowl.

  “You did? And how did that feel?”

  “Really good, actually.”

  She smiles. Moms know everything. “That's what I thought. The truth will set you free. That's why I wanted to do this. I can't keep this secret anymore. I don't want it to be a surprise.”

  I glance around the kitchen, finding several half-completed dishes. “Do you need any help?”

  “Could you chop up that basil for me? That would be wonderful. That scarf is pretty. Where did that come from?”

  “Peter,” I say.

  She slides one end through her fingers. “Matches your eyes.”

  “Yeah.” I pull the cutting board and knife closer, rolling the fragrant leaves so they make ribbons when I slice them. “Where's Dad?”

  “Off doing something secretive again,” she says, smiling and shaking her head. I can only imagine. “Aj called. She's coming up next weekend.”