The Noctalis Chronicles Complete Set Page 71
Jamie makes a sound of surprise. How can he not know?
“You love him?”
“I do.” How has he not seen it before? I told him. Maybe it's different now that he knows everything. Now that he knows what loving Peter means.
“But you're going to tell me that I should let her go.” I wish I could. I wish I could tell him what to do, but I can't. “She makes me forget about everything. About Dad and Cassie, and all the shit I have to deal with. I don't have to pretend with her.”
I've never heard Jamie talk about anyone this way. He's had dates and flirted with girls, but never anything serious. Until now. A little pang of guilt goes through me. Maybe if I'd been there for him, he wouldn't have had to look somewhere else for someone who understands and listens to him. Maybe if... But it isn’t meant to be.
“She makes you happy,” I say. It's not a question.
“Yes. She's it for me. I'd be with her no matter what.” I glance behind me at Peter. I know he can hear everything. I feel his ache for me, and it magnifies my own. Jamie catches me looking mournfully at Peter.
“Why are you staying away from Peter?” Way to switch the topic with ease, Jamie.
“Remember how I told you about the bind he made with Di? Well, it's been chaffing him lately. I know that's a weird way to describe it, but that's the best way I can describe it. I'm just so scared to lose him. I can't lose him, Jamie.” My voice cracks and I'm afraid I'm going to get all blubbery and emotional again.
“Then you have to fight. I know I haven't been a fan of him, but if you love him, then I'm cool with it. As long as he doesn't change you without your permission. Then his ass is grass.” I laugh a little.
“I don't know how. It all seems so impossible.”
“If it's meant to be, it will work out.” Rasha said the same thing.
Yeah, I'm not really into the whole 'wait and see.' It's time to seize and take. The future belongs to those who take hold of it. My mother never said that, but I read something like that once.
“I'll be right back.” I turn around and see Peter lurking behind a Sentra.
“You. Come here.” I point to him and crook my finger. “I know you want to keep your distance and all, but that's not going to work for me.” I wait for him to tell me to stay away, that he can't be close to me, or for him to turn to ash.
He takes a step toward me. “It is not working for me, either.”
I want to throw myself on him, but I settle for another step. “Just, don't fall for me. Please? I'll do really unattractive things like blowing my nose in my hand and farting and stuff.”
A step. “Nothing you could do would ever disgust me. Ever.”
“Then you have to promise me something.” I pause before I say it. Promises are huge things for us. “That when we go to find Di with Helena, that if it doesn't work, you will change me. No more waiting.”
He turns his head to the side. “You want me to change you?”
“Yes.” I'm sure. It only took less than an hour of him ignoring me to know that I never, ever want that to happen again. The only thing that would be worse than being a vampire hybrid would be Peter ignoring me. It is unendurable.
“I said I would only change you if that was what you wanted. Is that what you want?” I nod.
He holds my arms with his hands, looking deep into my eyes. Just to make sure. “If we can't get rid of Di, yes. I want you to change me.”
He nods. That's a first. “Then I promise. I promise that we will make a plan to get Di and if we can't follow through with it, I will change you.”
“Okay then.”
I lean up and kiss him on the lips. Just a quick peck and then I run away. Kiss and ditch. My heart fills with the certainty that no matter what, human or noctalis, Peter and I will be together. I can deal with anything else, as long as I have him.
I go through the rest of the day with a crazy smile on my face. Tex asks me about it, but I just shake my head. My teachers keep looking at me suspiciously, so I have to cool it in most of my classes. There is such certainty in my decision. I wasn't ready, but something about today has flipped the switch. One moment I had doubt and now I have none. I think the weekend did it to me, too. Seeing Mom's house and how tragic it all was affected me more than I could admit. I don’t want my relationship with Peter to be like that house. A place I remember, but can’t go back to.
Yes, the immortality thing scares the bejeezus out of me. Yes, I don't really want to live forever, but if I get to have Peter, I'll take it. I can do anything as long as he is by my side. The other side of the coin is that death scares me. Despite having a mother who is soon to face it, I am actually more scared about the thought of my own mortality than I was a little while ago.
I'm sure now.
~^*^~
I get home to a note that Dad's taken Mom to the doctor's. It sends a wave of nausea through me, but I know that this is going to be the norm now. It's going to get more and more frequent. We must have taxed her yesterday, but that was bound to happen. She refuses to slow down. I don't blame her.
Mom's tulips are starting to poke their little heads out of the soil and into the sunlight. She's been trying to keep up with the weeding, watering and such, but it's just too much for her since she tires so easily.
“Hey, want to be my garden boy?” I say to Peter, shading my face from the sun. Maybe I'll borrow Mom's giant straw hat.
“Your wish is my command,” he says, bowing. Oh, I could get used to that.
I put on the hat and grab some gloves and a trowel. Peter digs right in, moving faster than I ever could. I've discovered yet another one of his talents. Weed Master. I'm going to add it to the List of Things I Love About Peter right between Doing My Laundry and Letting Me Play Taylor Swift In The Car.
I sit back and watch him. The dirt covers his clothes, and he doesn't care that it's everywhere. He's so breathtaking and I can't believe I get to call him mine.
“You're staring,” he says.
“You're sexy.”
He lunges at me and I squeal to get away. He rolls with me in the flowerbed, and I don't care that we're probably crushing some of them. He props himself on his elbows over me and wipes some dirt on my nose.
“There.”
“What was that for?”
“I wanted to see what you looked like covered in dirt. Humans are very clean.”
I can barely breathe, and it's not because my lungs aren't working. “We tend to be. I could not shower if you'd like that.”
“I like the way your skin smells in the morning when you wake up.”
“You probably don't like my breath very much.”
“Humans are very concerned with how they smell, I have noticed.” I roll so that I'm propped on one elbow. We should really get off Mom's flowers.
“Well, if we all smelled like you, we wouldn't have to worry about it.”
“You smell good to me.”
“That's a relief,” I say. “We're probably crushing Mom's tulips.”
“We probably are.” He moves to his feet and leans down to pull me up. He pulls too hard and I slam into his chest. It hurts, but I like it.
“If you change me, maybe I'll be the one bruising you.”
“We don't bruise.”
I roll my eyes. “I know, but it would be cool to think that I'd be the one with the upper hand.”
“Ava, you have the power to destroy me every second. What more of an upper hand do you need?” There he goes again, turning it around on me.
“I guess you have a point. Still, it would be nice to beat you at an arm-wrestling match.”
He gives me a slow smile. “I could let you win.”
“Such a sweet boy,” I say, patting his cheek and wiping some dirt off it. He's a dirty boy, too.
“Come on, why don't you get cleaned up? Not that I don't like the garden boy look on you. There are some clean clothes in your drawer.”
“I will be right back,” he says, smearing dirt on my
face as he walks by. Naughty boy.
I like this playful side of Peter. It is rare, so I cherish it even more. I realize this is what it could be like. Forever. I could lie in the dirt with him forever. Never grow old. Never change, never worry about getting sick.
My parents pull into the driveway as I'm putting the tools back in the shed. Dad helps Mom out of the car and she leans heavily on him.
“What's wrong?”
“They did some blood tests, so I'm a little woozy,” Mom says as she toddles up the steps to the front door, Dad helping her like she's a baby learning to walk.
I wish they would stop doing tests. They're not going to change anything, because she's not going to get better. I lean on the banister of the porch steps. That's a horrible thing to think. I know they're doing tests to figure out what medications to give her so she can be more comfortable, not just because they're sadists with God complexes. First do no harm, and all that, but still. Why can't they leave her alone?
I walk back inside as Peter is walking downstairs, slicking his wet hair back from his forehead. God, I love it when he does that.
“Oh hello, Peter. I didn't know you were here,” Mom says. Such a lie.
“He was just helping me in the garden,” I say because Dad looks really suspicious, like he's going to start talking about cleaning his gun, which he doesn't have.
“Oh,” he says.
“And he was just going home, right Peter? You have finals to study for.” I give our connection a little pinch.
“So do you,” he says.
“You're welcome to study here if you want to,” Mom says, smiling and giving Dad a pinch that we all see, but pretend not to.
“Thank you, Claire, but I should get home. Goodnight, Ava.”
“Goodnight, Peter.” I dive and give him a kiss on the lips right in front of my parents. If things go according to our promise, they're going to be seeing even more of that. Best to start them out slow.
“See you later,” I say as he walks out the front door. He's just going to turn around and go through the backdoor. Or in his case, roof. I'm adding Stealthily Climbing In My Window to the Peter Love list.
Twenty-Two
Peter
Ava's mother has a cold the next morning.
“It's nothing,” she says, her voice full of mucus.
Sam sends her back to bed with lots of medicine and orders her to rest. Ava's anxiety twangs upstairs to me, and I know that she is very close to breaking. I send her as much positive energy as I can. If I could, I would attach my hands to her skin and keep them there, to keep the bad things away.
I wish she did not have to be in school. Although I think it is important for her to maintain her human life, it does not seem possible right now. Minimizing my impact as much as possible is all I can do, and she makes it difficult. Especially now that I have promised to make her a noctalis. I knew it would come to that. She is so intent on ending her human life and starting her immortal existence. Sometimes I wonder if it is the escape from mortality, or if it is me that she is after. It is times like this when I wish I could read all her thoughts.
“I can't go today,” Ava says when I get in her car at the end of the driveway. “Can we just go to the beach or somewhere and just be the two of us? I need some us time.”
“Of course. I will take you wherever you need to go. Always.”
She looks at me with so much pain and desire to be with me it is nearly impossible to deny that she does want to be with me. Still, I will always have that doubt that if I had not Claimed her, she would not feel so about me.
“Thanks,” she says, giving me a peck on the cheek.
“Do you want me to drive?” I ask. I do not mind driving. It is rather pleasant, in a strange sort of way.
“Thanks, baby.” She kisses my cheek again and gets out of the car to switch seats.
“Buckle your seatbelt,” she says as she buckles hers, and pushes her seat back so she can lie down.
“Tired?”
“I don't know. I just couldn't turn my brain off.” The circles under her eyes have been getting darker and darker. The instances of her nightmares are more frequent as well.
“You had the nightmare again,” I say, brushing one finger along her arm to watch her skin burst into goose bumps.
She sits up, startled. “What?”
“The nightmare you have about me and your mother burning as we... say those words.” I have to stop myself from saying it. The words are in the back of my throat and burn like ash, but I'm able to swallow them down.
She groans loudly and pretends to smash her face on the dashboard. I start the car and drive toward town. I want to take her somewhere new. Somewhere she hasn't been. A place without memories so we can make some new ones.
She groans again, and I rub her back. “I really wish you couldn't read my mind. Really, really wish. Not that I don't love you, but I really don't need you in my head.”
“I am sorry. It comes to me and I cannot stop it. I like knowing what you're thinking. Not all the time, though. I also like you surprising me.”
“Well that's good. I'm sorry about that.”
“You cannot control what you see when you sleep, my girl.” She smiles when I call her mine. I like saying it because I like her reaction. I don't call her baby because she asked me not to. I will have to try out some other endearments to see which she likes the best.
“I don't really believe in omens and all that. Tex gave me this book on dream interpretation, but it was no help. I know what it means. I'm scared to lose you, but that's no mystery. I think about it all damn day. You'd think I'd get some peace when I slept, but no dice.”
“I am sorry. I would invade your dreams and change them if I could.” Anything to help her sleep. Her human body needs it.
“That would be kind of cool, even if it was creepy that you could affect my dreams.”
I think for a moment. “I do not remember dreaming.” I only know what it is like from her perspective. It is murky, dark and changes quickly, going from a normal day at school to a cave to a blue sky. Confusing and strange. They are a kind of magic, dreams.
She shrugs. “It's not that great. I wish I had more time to do stuff. You waste years of your life sleeping.”
“What would you do with your time?” I turn onto the main road that leads from Sussex to the more populated areas.
“Read more, probably. Maybe I'd be better at math if I had more time. Or maybe not.”
She laughs and turns on the radio to the pop station. One of her favorites, Taylor Swift, comes on and Ava hums along. Her mood is better, but there are still dark edges to it. She is worried about Claire, but is trying not to think about it.
“What would you like to do today?” I say.
“Nothing.” The wave of desire that hits me reveals her lie. Yes, she has shoved anxiety about Claire far to the back of her mind. I give her a look.
“Okay! Okay. I hate that you can read me like that. It's crazy embarrassing.” She hides her face in her hands.
“Ava,” I say, putting one of my hands on hers. I send my desire to her and she gasps, uncovering her eyes.
“You are not the only one.” I remove my hand from her skin so we don't get carried away.
“It's a good thing I'm not driving. I might have crashed.” Her voice is unsteady and her blood pumps faster. I should not have done that.
“I am sorry.”
“S'okay. Just… warn me next time.” She struggles to calm herself down, fiddling with the radio again. “Where are you taking me?” she says finding another Taylor Swift song.
“A place I found when I first came to Sussex. You'll like it, I promise.” It is so easy to promise her things. She may think that they are empty, since they are not binding, but for me, they are more important, because I choose them. I choose her.
“You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?”
“That would ruin the surprise.” She is worse than Claire.
It only takes twenty minutes to get there, since I drive as fast as I like. Ava doesn't ask me to slow down. She knows that if the car was to crash, I would be able to get her out. It thrills me that she trusts me with her life, but it is also a large responsibility. The heaviest thing I have ever carried.
We don't talk much on the ride. I am content to give her all the calm I can, holding her hand so I can pump as much as possible into her. She closes her eyes and dozes.
It is the most peaceful I have seen her in a while. I wish it could last forever.
Ava
I should go to school. I should focus more on other things, but I need a break. My poor human brain can only take so much. I need a vacation, even if it's only for a few hours. No Di, no Helena, no Brooke. No worrying about Viktor turning Tex. I'm still worrying about my mother's cold. She's not supposed to get sick. We've tried to keep the house sterile and limit her contact with people, but somehow some germs got into the house. Her immune system is compromised as it is, and a cold can be dangerous. Maybe it was Gretchen, that bitch.
I somehow fall asleep and wake when Peter kisses my shoulder.
“We're here.” I stretch and look out the window. Tall ancient trees surround a little stone church. It's so old there isn't even a road for cars. “Come on,” he says, getting out of the car and opening my door.
I step out onto soft ground that is spongy with moss. No one has been here in a while. The air is thick with moisture.
“What do you think?”
I look at the unassuming church. It's small, even smaller than my house, and made of stone. The door has long since rotted away, leaving only a stone doorway. There is a little turret that rises about ten feet above the main part and is capped by a little triangle with a tiny cross on it. I suppose there was once glass in the windows, but it is long gone. Peter takes my hand and leads me closer. The stones are rough and uneven, as if they were gathered and not made by a mason’s calloused hands.