The Noctalis Chronicles Complete Set Page 79
“I am not telling you anything. Do whatever it is you need to do.” Of course he’s on my bed, fingers flying on my laptop (which he just completely dismantled, cleaned, upgraded and put back together), doing God knows what.
Yeah, that’s right. Sexy, tall, muscly blond nerd. He’s pretty much the best thing ever. Now if only he could get some of those glasses . . .
Focus, Tex.
“You’re not helping.” He finally looks up from whatever he’s doing—hacking into the Pentagon database for all I know. It would be a piece of cake for him. I always joke that he could make a killing running rings around those guys with the Nigerian email scams.
“What are you working on?” My curiosity gets the better of me.
“Funneling money from a corrupt company into the bank account for a charity,” he says as if it’s something he does all the time.
“Really?” I look at the screen, but it’s all in html and I don’t speak that language. Like, at all. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I can.” He’s doing that thing where he kind of shuts down verbally. I poke that weird connection we have with my mind.
He shuts the computer and turns his attention to me. He knows by now that ignoring me will only make me try harder. I see it as a challenge.
“I have been responsible for so many bad things in this world that I feel like I should use at least some of my time to do some good. It won’t balance the scales in my favor, but it can’t hurt.” I can almost taste his sincerity. Christ, how could I not fall for this?
“You’re awesome,” I say, smiling at him.
“No, you’re awesome,” he says, crossing his eyes at me. I love it when he’s playful like this, because it’s rare when we’re alone. He usually only puts on his charm in front of an audience.
“I am, aren’t I?” I cross my eyes back at him.
“Be careful. You’ll get them stuck that way,” he says, tapping the top of my head. I sigh and lean into his chest, pushing the computer away.
“Ava has made her choice. It is not yours to make, although you can make your own,” he says, and I know he’s reading my mind or my body language or all of the above.
“What’s my choice?” I’m not aware I made one.
“You choose to stay human. She chooses to become immortal.” I hate how cavalier he’s being about this, but I guess when you live forever something like this isn’t important.
“Can you at least put yourself in my shoes for five seconds?” I sit up so I can see his eyes.
“She’s my best friend, and if she becomes immortal and I stay the way I am . . . maybe she won’t be my best friend anymore. I don’t want to lose her. She’s going to stay the same and I’ll age and then I’ll die and she’ll be the same, and I don’t think I can stand watching her stay young while I get all wrinkly and old. That is so not the point, but that’s what I think of. Do you understand how I could feel that way?”
I stare deep into his eyes. I still haven’t gotten used to the fact that they’re different colors. Will Ava’s eyes change? What color will they be? Will she change?
He puts one hand on both sides of my face, as if he’s holding it. Or holding me. Or holding me together.
“Ava loves you. A little thing like immortality will not change that. Besides. If she decided not to be your friend, I think you would hunt her down and force it on her. You don’t take no for an answer, Tex.” He pulls my face forward and kisses my forehead.
I think about that.
“I really don’t,” I say.
“One of the many reasons I am here with you. I like a woman who knows her mind.” With that he moves to kissing my lips and I put Ava’s mortality out of my mind as he strips my clothes from my body and devours me for a little while.
Three
Ava
I’m exhausted when we get back to my house, so I just pull my shirt and jeans off and crawl into bed in my underwear. Normally, this would lead to sexy feelings about Peter, but my brain is so overloaded that I can’t begin to think about that.
He seems to feel the same way as he peels his shirt off, folds it and puts it in the back of his drawer and climbs in next to me.
“Sleep, my Ava. I will watch your back.”
“Everyone says that,” I say through a yawn. “Can you watch my front too?” I feel him smiling as he kisses my forehead.
“I will watch all of you. Always.”
“Good,” I say before I close my eyes and fall into a deep, exhausted sleep.
~^*^~
The next week is a strange blur. I’m locked in a haze of grief for my mother, worry that Di is going to come back and pull a fast one, and anticipation of the ending of my human life.
I’d made a list of all the things I wanted to do before I changed, and we do them, from running until my lungs felt like they were going to burst, to pigging out on anything and everything on the menu from Miller’s diner.
One last time. I make Jamie and Tex come with me for that one. Just the humans, no immortals. Well, not in the restaurant. Peter, Viktor and Brooke hover outside like the Secret Service, hiding in the bushes.
Jamie isn’t Claimed (yet), but he and Brooke are inseparable. It’s only a matter of time. I can’t really question his decision, considering mine. I just warn him of what he’s getting into, as does Tex. Maybe he’ll actually listen, unlike her.
Funnily enough, he’s more understanding of my desire for immortality than Tex is. I ask him why over the biggest vanilla milkshake I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Because immortality is certain. Death is not. You don’t know what comes after. You’ve already lived life, so you know what to expect. It makes sense.” He sticks a straw into the cup, knowing that I will never be able to finish this thing off on my own. Tex scowls, but puts her straw in too, and the three of us bend our heads over it.
In a weird way, what Jamie says does make sense. And despite Di giving up her vendetta, there is still the matter of her son Cal, who doesn’t like me very much; and what happens when Helena and Di have another falling-out and Di decides to be Revenge Woman again? I’m not taking any chances.
By the time we get to pie, we’re all groaning, but end up eating a piece each because there’s no way you can go to Miller’s and not get pie. It’s against the law. Or at least it should be.
Tex is still trying to talk me out of going through with it, but Viktor is helping to make her less antagonistic, for which I’m grateful. She’s been a lot more . . . I don’t know if “mellow” is the right word, but a little more chill since he came into her life. It’s kind of nice.
There are two last things I need to do as a human. One of them is finally getting naked and making love with Peter, and the other is something I didn’t know I needed to do until I thought about it.
When my mother died, she left me a box full of something in her closet. It reminds me of the box of Peter’s things that I still have at the foot of my bed. Now, as a noctalis, I’ll need my own box.
Plus, there’s Dad. A very tiny part of me knows how selfish this is, to do this. In a few years, when I don’t grow older, I’ll have to leave him behind—make some sort of excuse to travel. Sure, I can get a bunch of makeup and maybe wear costumes or something to come back and visit, but it won’t be the same. After I change I will never be his human daughter again. He will be all alone.
Well, not completely alone. Aj is still staying with us, and I wonder if she would consider making it permanent. I know she loves her house, and it’s close to the college where she works, but maybe she can stay with us for a while. I’m planning on staying home for as long as I can. Plus, I still have my senior year of high school to get through.
I’ll figure it out this summer, right? Peter and I will figure it out.
I have to sneak into my parents’ room when Dad’s out with Aj getting food. She practically had to force his feet into shoes to get him out of the house. He’s barely spoken two words to me since Mom died. Ju
st as I expected, the two of us have even less in common without Mom forcing us together. I just . . . don’t know what to talk to him about, or how to do it. Everything reminds me of mom. Everything hurts. So I just don’t talk at all. And he does the same.
Peter helps me bring the box upstairs. It is surprisingly heavy, and I wonder what she’s put in there.
“I will leave you,” Peter says, as soon as he sets the box down. “This is something for you and Claire. Call me if you need me.” And he’s out the window before I can say anything. He’s right, of course. This box is between mom and me.
It’s locked with a brand new padlock, but it’s only a three number combination and I get it on the first try. My birthday, of course.
The lock clicks and I push open the top of the box. I hold my breath and close my eyes as I do it, waiting for my heart to stop pounding before I open my eyes again. I don’t know what I expect to find. Deep, dark secrets? An amazing dress? Piles of cash?
Letters. Stacks and stacks of them, all with my name written on the outside and green ribbon tied around each one. There have to be hundreds. That’s on one side of the box. On the other are a number of things. A few photo albums, some toys from my childhood, some from hers and a few other knickknacks and things. Some jewelry. Some things from my grandmother. There are also a few videotapes that say “FOR EMERGENCIES ONLY” in my mom’s handwriting. Hmm, I’m curious, but I’m not going to disobey her instructions. This isn’t an emergency.
Yet.
I take the top letter off the stack and hold it up to my nose, breathing in. I can just smell the barest hint of my mother’s lilac perfume. There is a bar of her favorite soap in here as well. Smell is one of those things you don’t think about when you lose someone. That you’ll lose everything about them. Not just their voice or their presence, but their smell. It’s a powerful thing, smell, as I know all too well, being a human who craves blood.
I thought I would cry when I did this, but my eyes are dry. This isn’t sad, this box. It’s more like my mother doling out one of her pieces of advice. I smile and sniff the letter again before placing it back on the stack and locking the box again. Once those letters are read, there aren’t any more, so I’m going to savor them as long as they last.
Peter
I try not to listen to her, or to influence her emotions. I pull away as much as I can to give her privacy. I often wonder what our connection will be like when she changes.
If it will still be there.
Rasha and Kamir are gone, and I suppose I could ask Viktor to email them about it, but part of me doesn’t want to know. I am afraid.
Afraid that once our Claiming is severed, and she is immortal, that she will forget me. Find someone else. Run away and see the world and leave me behind in a cloud of dust. I might not be enough for her anymore. The entire universe would be open to her. What part would I play in it?
I pull out the phone that Viktor gave me so we could stay in contact with one another. I dislike using it, but I need to ask him a question and I do not want Ava to overhear. I send him a text message and get a response in moments. We send a few messages back and forth and my plan is in motion. I am not sure how Ava will like it, but I am doing it anyway.
I open myself up again and prepare for her emotions to flood in, but she is calm. Always surprising me, that girl.
The other thing I am afraid of will come tomorrow. Not the change, but the before. Being intimate with Ava.
I should have told her no, that it wasn’t possible. That I couldn’t, but I never thought she would want to so it was a moot point at the time. Now it is not so.
“Peter, you can come back in now.” Her voice is even and I don’t smell the salt of tears when I climb back into her room.
“How are you?” I say, holding my arms out for an embrace. I love having my arms round her.
Love, love, love.
“I love you,” she says, folding herself into me.
“I love you,” I say, kissing the top of her head. Saying those words will never get old, even if I say them for thousands of years. They will never be more true than they are right now, right in this moment.
“I’m fine. It wasn’t sad, really. She left me a bunch of stuff and some letters. I’m sure they’re all full of advice and wisdom, but I don’t want to open them yet. I want them to last, even though I can re-read them, and there are so many. I think I’ll try only opening one a week.”
“That seems like a good idea. Would you like to open one now?”
She shakes her head into my silent chest.
“No, I’ll do one tomorrow . . . before, you know.”
“Before.”
Before everything changes.
Tex
“Would you change me?” I say the night before Ava’s transformation is supposed to take place. We’re naked and I’m drawing random designs on his chest with my finger. Christ he’s beautiful. I’ve never been much for “pretty” men, but he takes gorgeous to a whole new planet. To a new solar system.
“Do you want me to?” His fingers twist in my hair, pulling on it a little bit, but I don’t mind. He’s always been a little rough with me, and I enjoy it. I never did any of that stuff with Blake, which is probably because he was a boy. Viktor is a man. A hot hunk of man, and he’s mine. All mine.
I shrug one shoulder and he nips a little at it, but not enough to draw blood. He likes to keep my bites hidden. That’s going to be even more tricky come bikini season, which is now upon us. He tries to keep most of his feedings in my wrists, and I just wear chunky bracelets. He only needs to feed every couple of days, and it’s not much, so we’ve worked out a system.
“The question isn’t if I want you to, but would you? If I asked nice?”
He considers for a moment, and I can see the wheels turning in his head.
“Would you want it? To spend eternity with me? We have only known each other for such a short time, and you are impulsive.” I try to get a read on his emotions, but it’s like he’s blocking me. Huh. He’s never done that before. What the what?
“Hey now,” I say, not really offended, but pretending to be. I want to ask him about the blockage, but he would probably just shut down even more.
“It is true and you know it.” I am impulsive. Teachers were always writing that in my report cards when I was a kid. My parents were always chastising me for it. Obviously, none of those things made a bit of difference.
“But you like me being all impulsive. Keeps you on your toes.” I smile at him and he smiles back.
“You would be a force to be reckoned with, Texas Anne.” God, I hate it when anyone else calls me that, but he can call me whatever he wants in that voice.
“As if I’m not already,” I say, stretching a little. He’s wearing me out with all the sex, but I always crave more. What would it be like to do this forever? We wouldn’t need food, or sleep, or have to pee afterwards to prevent getting a UTI like with a human guy.
Just the constant sex alone would be worth it. But what about everything else? Everything I’d be giving up?
“I don’t know. I guess it’s something to think about. How old are you? I mean, how old were you when you changed?”
“Twenty-three. I have been this age for a few hundred years or so. I have lost count. Forever young.” Really? I mean, I guess I could believe that. Losing track of so many years.
Viktor is even more closed-mouthed about his human past than he is about his feelings for me. If not for that emotional connection to him, and being able to feel that he wants me, that he likes me (even if he’s not quite to love yet), then I would be much more insecure about his feelings for me.
“Okay, then I don’t want to be too much older than you. I’m not into that cougar thing, so that means I still have several years to decide.” Unless something happened to me in the meantime. That was surprisingly comforting.
“You do not have to change for me,” he says, holding my chin tightly in one hand. He’s got
such wonderful hands. The wall between our emotions drops and I feel a rush of sincerity. Mmm.
“I wouldn’t do it for you,” I say, lying through my teeth. “It would be for me. Because I wanted to. I’m not one of those girls who just abandons her life for a man.” I totally am.
“Hmm,” he says, pulling my face up for a kiss, but I pull away.
“Will she be different?”
Once again, he pauses before he answers. That always freaks me out, because I feel like he’s trying to find a delicate way to tell me something I don’t want to hear.
“She might be. Or she might be the same.” That’s the best he can come up with?
“That’s it? A diplomatic answer? You suck, V.” I push myself away from him, pretending I’m pissed. I really like to screw with him. And screw him.
“It’s nothing to worry about, Tex. You’ll see.” He freezes for a moment, going so still he doesn’t look real. It’s yet another reminder that he’s not human. I forget sometimes.
He lowers his head to my ear and I shiver. I like where this is going.
“Your brother is listening at the door.”
Shocker. I’m surprised Coby hasn’t already confronted me, or ratted me out to our parents for having Viktor in my room. Coby’s seen Viktor often enough. He’s probably also heard us having sex. My loudness extends to that avenue as well.
“Eh, let him listen. He can hear me moan while you go down on me. Oohhh,” I say in a loud voice and then hear a muttered curse on the other side of the door.
“See? Easy as that,” I say, flashing a smile at Viktor. He raises one eyebrow.
“Was that a suggestion?”
“Yes,” I say as he kisses his way between my boobs, heading south. Then the moaning is all too real.
Viktor
I watch her face as she sleeps later. I remember when I first changed, how I tried and tried to sleep, but it never came. Adele and I used to pretend, much like Ava and Peter’s “human nights”. Neither of us was very good at it.