The Noctalis Chronicles Complete Set

  But that is not possible, and not just because of the Claiming. She has become part of the noctalis world. Even if she had only seen a small part of it, she has been exposed. It is like a disease that once you are exposed, there is no cure. You might not show symptoms, but it will always have a piece of you. Of her.

  Of course, it would have been better if I had never come back to the cemetery to see her. That would have been the best.

  Her window screeches open and she pokes her head out, gazing up at me, her forehead puzzled.

  “What are you thinking about so hard? Your plan that you won't tell me about? Again?”

  “How did you know I was thinking?”

  “I don't know. How did you know I was going to drink Tex's blood? How does any of this work?” Her eyes shut as she lifts her face to the sky, letting the mist fall on her face. “That feels really nice.” I watch her for a moment.

  “Your clothes are wet. Come in and get some dry ones. I made a drawer for you.” Gesturing to her dresser, I see a nearly empty drawer with the clothes she bought me folded neatly.

  “Your, uh, underthings are in that bag.” Her face is red as I take the bag and put it in the drawer. Ava's aversion to nudity is so human, but I respect it. Not that I would not enjoy seeing her with only rainwater covering her skin. I have thought of it more often than not.

  I fold the bag up and put it in the drawer, closing it with finality. Granted, my trunk is here, but there is something very intimate about having one's underclothes in someone else's drawer.

  “Go ahead and change. I think I need to sleep for a little while before we go.” I retreat to the bathroom to put on some of the pajamas she'd bought me. The material is thin, but soft. Not as nice as skin on skin.

  “Come here for a second,” she says when I emerge. She has also changed into shorts and a tank top with thin straps. I only know what the things she wears are called because she told me. When I was human, girls were not so exposed. I go to her.

  Her fingers scrape through my hair, pushing it away from my eyes.

  “Sometimes I wish you would cut it, but then I couldn't do this.”

  “I could try to cut it.”

  “You haven't before?” Her fingers peruse, teasing, massaging, exploring. It is wonderful. I breathe her in and try to lock the moment in my memory.

  “I never had a need to.”

  “It's okay. Sometimes I just want to see your eyes.” She pulls my hair back and pulls my face to be in line with hers. “I need to see them more often. They're so beautiful.” I could say the same about her luminous green irises.

  “You are right.”

  She cups her hand to her ear, as if she hasn’t heard me. I know she has. “What did you say? I could have sworn you said I was right.”

  “You are right.”

  “Thank you for admitting that.”

  “It did not hurt me to do so.”

  “Well that's good. Hopefully it will happen again.”

  Without meaning to, I catch her. It is nearly a reflex now. Her eyes focus on mine. Unblinking. The fatigue dissolves and I see the remnant of the girl I talked with in the cemetery. Although, she had been tired then. Tired from her mother's diagnosis. Human lives are exhausting things. I break the contact and her face sags a little under the weight of what her life has become.

  “I needed that. I shouldn't need reminding, but I do. I need reminding of why we're doing this and what we stand to lose.”

  “I will always remind you, my Ava-Claire.” She presses her forehead to mine. Her skin is hot, as if she has a fever.

  “Good.” Her hands drift to mine and she takes both of them as she walks backward to the bed.

  “Come here,” she says again. “I don't want to sleep alone. I've gotten used to having you here.”

  “I know.” I have gotten used to being here. I see my existence as two parts. Before Ava. After Ava. Darkness to light. If only I could keep that light burning. Like a lighthouse before electricity, I will have to keep the lantern we have lit burning. It will take both of us. I only hope we are strong enough. That I am strong enough.

  Ava

  Sleeping with Peter is amazing. Not that he's super cuddly, but I feel all my muscles release when I know he's next to me. I still have bad dreams. The burning one hasn't left me alone for more than a few nights. Still, a little sleep is better than none. I wake to him brushing my shoulder.

  As I freeze my ass off in Peter's arms, I can't figure out Peter's plan. In my opinion, we're walking into a snake pit. I don't trust this guy farther than I can throw him — which is not at all. Not even after the whole Cal-saved-me story he told me. The bottom line is that I trust Peter. And I know he wouldn't hurt me. So I go along to get along.

  When we finally land, I try to fight the creepy feeling that wraps around me like smoke. I can't put my finger on it. Maybe it is the lawn gnomes. Those things have always done it to me. Back when Mom would take me trick-or-treating, I would never go to a house that had them on the lawn. I'd have nightmares that they would pull their little feet out of the ground and come and kill me in my sleep. My thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of Tex and Viktor.

  “God, those things give me the creeps,” Tex says as Viktor sets her on her feet.

  “My feelings exactly,” I say.

  She squints at the house. It has a sinister feel, even though there are lights on inside. “So who is this guy? Some sort of vampire suburbanite?”

  “Noctalis,” I say.

  “Whatever.” Her expression, looking at the house, and mine from the first time are probably identical.

  “I just can't picture one of you —” She points to Viktor and Peter. “— living in such a... house.” There really isn't a better term for it. Basically, it is the Better Homes and Gardens version of the most average house in America. Plus the gnomes.

  “Cal is different.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” Just as we're all staring at the house, the door opens. Kind of like last time. The light floods from the inside, haloing Cal.

  “Hello again. I see you've brought more visitors.” His voice needs no amplification to carry across the lawn.

  “Cal.”

  “Peter. Viktor. And Ava. It is nice to see you again. Who have you brought with you?”

  “This is Tex.” Viktor makes the introduction. I'm guessing it has to do with part of the hierarchy — the hierarchy that Peter has never told me about and pretends doesn't exist.

  “Tex. What interesting names they have now.”

  “Yeah, it's great.” I shoot Tex a look. Please don't poke the tiger. I wonder if Viktor gave her any parameters to follow.

  “Won't you please come in? I am sorry I am not able to offer you refreshment.” I'm sure the house has a fridge, but I really don't want to know what's in it. Really don't. It takes forever and no time at all for us to get up the steps and into the house. I'd forgotten how clean it was. How sterile and gray and taupe. At least he's more hospitable this time. I'm not sure that's a good omen.

  “That is fine.”

  Cal pauses while he leads us to the living room. The first time we stood in the doorway and talked. He gestures for us to sit on the leather couches. Of course they make that horrible squelchy almost-fart sound when we sit down. At least when Tex and I do. Being a noctalis apparently gives you the superpower of being able to silently sit on a leather couch. Something else to look forward to. Cal picks up a glass paperweight. Who even has those in their house?

  “I have information, but it is not here. We well have to go get it,” he says.

  “I cannot leave my Claimed,” Peter says. Great, now I don't have a name.

  He tosses the paperweight into the air and catches it before I can blink. “Then we have no deal.”

  Seriously? This is the guy who saved Peter? What the hell? I have to say something. I can't keep my mouth shut any longer.

  “Are you kidding?”

  Cal studies me like the paperweight before
he answers. I want to slap that look off his face. No matter what Peter said about him, there was something wrong with this guy.

  “He has told you about his past. I can see that. But you cannot comprehend. You have not the brain for it.” Great, now he's saying I'm stupid. Nice. Real nice.

  “I could say that you don't know anything about love. About love that transcends everything. Mortality. Good sense. Logic. But I know about it,” Peter says.

  “You think you do.” Shut up. Just shut up. Where has the benevolent friend who saved Peter from the depths of despair gone?

  “Peter. If you wish to learn the information you seek, we must leave now.” I wait for Peter to say no. I wait for him to squeeze my hand or blink or something or anything. I wait for him to tell Cal to go to hell.

  “I will do it.”

  “What?!” I rip my hand out of his and stand. I can't sit when he says something like that. “Do you not remember what happened last time? And it's worse now. I freak out every time you leave the room!” I throw up my hands, begging the heavens for help. I hadn't told him the last part. And I didn't mean to tell Cal. I am not really good at the card-hiding thing. This is probably why he didn't tell me the plan.

  “We will do what we have to do. It may be uncomfortable, but it is necessary.” His voice is cold again. Trying to show Cal that he didn't care about me. At least he isn't blocking me this time.

  I feel something insistently tugging at our connection. My immediate reaction is to slap him for being such a jerk, but I hold off. He's playing a game that I don't know the rules to. I will just have to follow his lead.

  Another insistent tug tells me what to do.

  “If you're going to be an asshole, fine. Go. See if I care.” It takes the force of my will to turn my back on him and cross my arms. I send him a sharp jab, telling him that I received the message and I will play along. It's insane how implicitly I trust him. I'm not sure if that's part of the Claiming or if it's just because I love him. At this point, it's impossible to untangle my personal feelings from the Claim. Not that I would want to. I love belonging to him. I love that he belongs to me. That he needs me. That I can give him something no one else can. That he shares parts of his past with me. I love him so much it hurts.

  “I will be back.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to get home?”

  “That is not my concern.” He shoots what almost feels like a bullet of regret down the line of our connection. I know, I know. It's still hard not to be hurt by the cold way he says it. But seriously, how am I getting home? We're in freaking Florida.

  “You can take your Claimed home if you like. I will come with you. I have not seen Maine in a very long time.” Oh, doesn't that sound like a fun road trip? Skytrip?

  “That might be best.” Peter is both relieved that he can take me home, but there's something else there that he isn't telling me. Not for the first time, I wish I had telepathy.

  “Shall we go?” Cal looks between me and Peter. I make a huffy face and roll my eyes like a petulant teenager. I want Cal to think I am. I want him to underestimate me until I know what the hell is going on.

  We all walk calmly out of the house. Tex catches my eye and mouths something at me, but I give her a look that shuts her up. I have the feeling this isn’t what she had in mind. I thought it was going to take me physically putting my hand on her mouth to get her to stop talking. Seems as if the gravity of the situation has finally penetrated her thick skull. It's about time.

  The air outside has a chill in it that I know is only going to get worse. Why it's a good idea to let Cal know where I live is beyond me. But it looks like he's coming. I wonder how he's getting there. Peter has never told me about his other form.

  I watch as he takes his jacket off, folds it and places it just inside the door. He then removes his tie and shirt. I really hope he isn't going to strip down. Then he takes off his shirt and folds it, followed by his shoes.

  “You may want to turn your back to protect your human sensibilities. I know how you can be about the naked body,” Cal says. I do as I'm told and turn my back. Peter comes to stand behind me. I wish I could say something to him, but I know Cal would hear. Instead, I lean back against him for a fraction of a second. His fingers nip at my back. A warning.

  Without a word, Peter lifts me into his arms. Viktor does the same with Tex. There is no squeal of delight this time. We are all quiet. I turn my head to see where Cal is. Instead, I meet the face of what looks like a cheetah. Only a half-human one. His face is covered in patches of gold and black and white. There is a cruel beauty to him that takes my breath away. His whole body is covered in short fur, sparkling in the moonlight. He smiles at me, and I turn away. The savage beauty could kill me. Even though I know Peter wouldn't let that happen. It doesn't make me feel less uneasy.

  A growl signals our departure. Peter ruins another shirt, but I don't really care. Viktor stays in human form and takes off with Tex. I pray that he can keep her safe. Peter is silent and the wind whips around us as if it's angry. He stays silent until we are well into the sky.

  “I am sorry.”

  “I know.” His arms tighten around me. “What's going to happen now?”

  “I don't know.”

  “You don't know? I thought you were sending me all those vibes because you had a plan.”

  “I did. Cal changed it.”

  “Then you have to change the plan. God, have you ever watched an action movie before? They go to diffuse the bomb and the thing they'd planned on never works and they come up with something that might work and puts all of them at risk. And it pays off. Most of the time. So we just have to think of a crazy way to diffuse the bomb.” He doesn't say anything. “Well, you've gotten us into a pickle.”

  “Indeed.” He pauses as I wait for a new plan.

  “There's something you aren't telling me.” This has been my suspicion all along. That Peter does know what he's doing, even if he isn't telling me about it.

  “Yes.” Thought so.

  “And you're not going to tell me. Again.”

  “No.”

  “So I'm just supposed to trust you.” Again.

  “If you can.”

  “Oh sure, I can trust you. I just don't understand why keeping me in the dark is a good thing. You told me if you were going to do that to me again, you were going to tell me ahead of time.”

  “There are things I can't tell you.”

  “Why?”

  “The time will come. It has not yet.” I can't think of anything good to say to that, so I go with...

  “You suck.” Brilliant.

  “I am sorry. It is for the best.”

  “That's what your parents say when you have to go to the doctor and get a shot, just before they stick you with the needle.”

  “I would never hurt you.”

  “Intentionally.”

  “Yes.” Neither of us is dumb enough to deny the fact that he could just as easily hurt me unintentionally. He just hasn’t yet.

  I shut my mouth and try to stay calm for the rest of our little ride. It seems to take forever. I keep looking down at the ground, even though it makes me want to hurl. I'm just worried about Tex.

  “She will be fine.”

  “How did you —”

  “I just knew.”

  “Oh.”

  Twenty-Four

  Peter

  I told Ava a lie. Cal did not change my plan. He simply confirmed my suspicions.

  Since she entered my life, things have changed. My sensibilities have sharpened. It was almost as if I had lost the knack of noticing things when I became a noctalis. Not that my powers of observation were ever poor. Since my life had no meaning, I chose not to pay attention to inconsistencies.

  When I first met Ava and before I Claimed her, I saw Cal. He seemed to sense times of turmoil in my life, but that was impossible. We talked. He told me of his new house. It was an inconsequential meeting. I went back and saw Ava the next day. And tha
t was when it started.

  I did not see him again until after the Claiming. I have changed so much since then, little as I would admit it. Noctali are stagnant. We stay the same, never growing, never bending, breaking or ending. But the Claim had changed me. She had changed me.

  I saw that he was different when I brought her. That he looked at her in a way I had seen him look at hundreds of other humans. Only this time I cared. I cared so much I wanted to rip his throat out of his body. I wanted to cause him so much pain he would never recover. But of course, we are incapable of causing pain or experiencing it. I had not remembered pain until I Claimed Ava.

  It was a mistake to bring her the first time. I needed the information, and I did not know how he would react. I had my answer quite quickly but I kept it from her.

  I was willing to go back and see him, but the moment he opened the door, I knew he meant us harm. And another suspicion started to take root. I owed it all to Ava. To her keen sense of observation.

  The only way to know for sure was to go with him. And to put my trust in someone who wants to destroy me.

  Ava

  Peter and I are the first at my house.

  “Was it a good idea to bring him here, here?” We're in the backyard, out of view of the windows, but you can still see the glow from the lamp in my room. I forgot to turn it off.

  “He would find it anyway.” I wobble a bit, and he lets me lean on him. “Sh.” His voice is sharp. The opposite of the word.

  And then they are there. I don't hear them as quickly as Peter, but I do hear them before they get there. I prepare myself by stepping away from Peter. I wish I could kiss him good-bye. Or perhaps forever. But it is not viable now. I'm supposed to be mad at him. I step away and affix a glare to my face, hoping it's convincing and knowing it's probably not.

  Cal is still in his noctalis form, and I try not to look at places I don't want to see. Because honestly, he's all human from the waist down, minus the fur. Instead, I look for Tex. Viktor puts her down and she reaches for my hand. I try to get her an eye message, but she looks so scared she's not going to listen to anything, even if it is said out loud. Viktor blinks at me. I hope that means that he's watching out for us. He and Peter share a glance and I hope they're doing that thing where they share their thoughts. That would be good right about now.