The Noctalis Chronicles Complete Set

  I fumble with the third book I’ve been trying to re-shelve after a finicky customer decided they didn’t want it, and I it drop to the floor. Actually, it doesn’t make it that far. Viktor comes out of nowhere and catches it, putting it back on the shelf with one smooth movement that makes me want to shove him against the shelves and have my way with him right in the middle of the store.

  But my mother would probably frown upon that.

  “Thanks, sexy. My head space is kind of . . . crowded today.”

  “I understand,” he says, fingers brushing the side of my face. We’ve been keeping our relationship on the down-low, but since Mom adores Viktor nearly as much as I do, she’d probably be okay with us dating. Having crazy sex all the time in my bedroom, probably not, but she never needs to know about that.

  Coby chooses then to come around the corner and glare at me from under his greasy wall of hair that hangs in front of his eyes and makes him bump into things. It’s pretty hilarious when it happens. Yeah, I’m a terrible sister.

  “Mom wants you to get that box from the basement,” he says, speaking to the floor. I think about a snarky retort, but Viktor sends me a subtle mental nudge to be nice. He’s always telling me, out loud and in my mind, to be nice. I hate having to be nice.

  “You wanna handle that, V?” I say, turning to Viktor. He was already going to do it, but I ask out loud anyway.

  “I’ll be right back. Don’t drop anything while I’m gone.” He gives me his patented swoony, knee-weakening smile and heads for the back of the store.

  Coby lingers for a minute and it’s like he wants to talk to me about something, but doesn’t actually want to say anything out loud. I can’t remember the last time we actually exchanged more than a handful of words. It’s been years. He just kind of stopped speaking in complete sentences, so we stopped asking him things and including him in conversations. Well, my parents did. They just think he’s going through a “phase” and sooner or later, he’ll cut his hair and be back to the bright-eyed, happy boy he was so many years ago.

  I say that ship has sailed and it’s not coming back. It hit an iceberg and sunk like the Titanic.

  “What’s up?” I say, because that’s the nicest and most normal way to start a conversation.

  “Nothing,” he says, running his hand along the shelf, but not turning and scampering away. He must really want to talk.

  “Do you, um, need some help with something?” Come on, kid. He’s making this really difficult.

  “No . . . never mind.” With that, he turns and scurries away. So much for that. I shake my head after him as Viktor comes back. One of the downsides (and there aren’t many) of noctalis men is that they don’t sweat. Granted, most sweat is gross, but every now and then, I like to see a sweaty man. Means his body has been working hard. It’s also kind of odd during sex when you’re the only one breathing hard and sweating. But he more than makes up for it in other areas . . .

  Mind in the gutter again. It kind of lives there.

  “I have no idea what is up with that brother of mine. Do you have the same problems with yours?”

  “No. But then we are not human.”

  “I guess.” I shrug and go back to work before Mom can scream at me again. The thing with Coby is only a brief distraction. I look at my phone for the thousandth time, waiting for a text, or call, or any news about Ava. I swear to God, if he kills her, I’m going to make him pay. He’ll wish he could die when I’m done with him.

  “Any news?” Viktor says, even though he knows the answer.

  “None. Are you sure we can’t go there? Just to make sure everything’s on the up and up?” I’ve suggested this at least five hundred times, and he shoots me down every time.

  “She will be very sick and very volatile, and I don’t want you near that yet. It will be fine.” He touches my shoulder and I move closer to him. I wish he could wrap me up in those big strong arms of his and make me believe anything that comes out of his mouth.

  He can be very persuasive.

  Viktor

  Her anxiety is palpable and comes in bursts. Every time I think I am used to her emotions, or get a handle on them, I realize I have barely scratched the surface.

  Near the end of the workday, she is strung so tight that I am afraid she is going to have a breakdown. I am afraid I’m going to have a break down. I try sending all the calm to her that I can, but her emotions tend to overwhelm mine at some points and there is nothing I can do. I would try to block her out, but that seems cruel and selfish, so I continue to let her in full-force.

  “I just need a second,” she tells me, and goes into the ladies’ room. I take the moment to check on her brother.

  He has been watching me, and watching Tex for a while now. He is one of those humans that sees everything, but does it unnoticed. He melts into the shadows as if they are a part of him, and no one ever suspects. Coby holds a lot of secrets inside him, and most of them probably aren’t his. I’ve tried talking to him, but I think I intimidate him, even when I try not to. My stature makes that a little difficult.

  He is tearing apart boxes so they can be stacked flat in the Dumpster. Without a word, I grab one and rip through the tape that keeps it in box form and flatten it, tossing it on top of the others. I try to do it with human-level strength, but it is not easy.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he says, looking up at me. Most people can’t see his eyes under his hair, but I am not most people. Haunted. That’s what those eyes are. Haunted eyes in one so young.

  “It’s my job,” I say, not bothering to smile and be charming. That would only scare him off more. I bring myself to his level.

  “Only because my sister got it for you. But I’m glad it’s you and not Toby. He was a fucking weirdo.” The curse sounds strange coming from his mouth, as if he isn’t quite sure how to say it, or is only saying it to shock me.

  I am un-shockable.

  In answer to his statement I nod my head. He knows it’s true. I know it’s true.

  “I know about you,” he says in a voice so quiet that human hearing might not have picked it up. “I know you aren’t human. I also know that you’re banging my sister.” He looks up for my reaction.

  I don’t have one.

  “I know. I could hear you watching.” Coby’s eyebrows knit together in confusion.

  “You could hear me watching?”

  “Yes. I could hear your breathing and heartbeat right outside Tex’s door. I hear a lot of things.” He pauses with a box in his hands.

  “What are you?” I have only told a few people the true answer to that question. I should ask Tex if it is all right with her that I tell him, but in the end it doesn’t matter because he already knows.

  So I tell him, starting with my own change, sparing none of the details. Our existence is a violent one, and bloody, and we leave a trail of bodies in our wake. Fascinated, Coby listens, standing as still as a human possibly can.

  “Are you going to kill her?” It’s the first question he asks when I am done with my story.

  “I might,” I say, giving him the truth. “Humans do not fare well when they are connected with us. But I will do my best. I like her very much.” This is the only thing in which I have not told him the complete truth. I love Tex. Not like I loved Adele. This is a different kind of love, but love nonetheless.

  Coby shakes his head and for the first time, I see a smile on his face.

  “That’s a little fucked up, you know that right? Does she know about all this?”

  “Everything. She knew before we started being together.”

  He thinks about that for a moment.

  “Are you going to make her like you?” I’d briefly explained what it takes for a human to transform into one of us.

  “Perhaps. If it is what she wants.” I hear Tex upstairs and I feel her looking for me.

  “This is between you and me. She would be upset if she knew I told you. Can you keep this secret?” His eyes go wide, but h
e nods.

  “Just . . . just don’t kill me. Or her. Please.”

  “I will do my best,” I say, because that is all there is to say about it.

  Seven

  Ava

  “That was . . .” I say, trying to come up with words, but words for this haven’t been invented yet.

  Peter and I are still naked, me admiring him, him admiring me, as we are twisted up together on the bed he somehow got into the church. I keep thinking how ironic it would be if some little old lady shows up to take some pictures or do some grave rubbings and discovers us in our little hideout. Unlikely, but anything is possible.

  Peter hasn’t said a word, and I’m getting worried. Technically, we were both virgins, but I don’t think his virginity counts as much as mine did.

  “Are you okay?”

  He’s been staring at my stomach, moving his fingers in and out of my belly button and it tingles in all the right places. His wings are still out, folded behind him, but I’ve been touching them non-stop. They glitter in the waning light of the remaining candles. There’s gonna be a hell of a lot of wax to clean up when we leave.

  Finally, he looks up and I brush his hair out of his eyes.

  “I love you,” he says. “Those are the only words I have.” And then he smiles that earth- and heart-shattering smile that I’d taught him.

  “You had me scared there. I was afraid you didn’t like it.”

  Even with the pain, it had been one of the best experiences of my life. Top five, at least.

  “Like isn’t a word I would ever use with you. It doesn’t go far enough.” He takes one finger and brushes my lips with it. They’re a little tender and sore, after being attacked by him. All of me is tender and sore, but it pales in comparison to how happy I am.

  “Ditto. Like is lame.” I scrunch up my nose at him, and he smiles again. I close my eyes as his hands drift over my body, touching here and there.

  “Can we just stay here forever?”

  “We can stay here, if you want to. But we can only have forever if I change you. Are you still sure?”

  “Yes.” I’m even more sure now. I have never been more sure. “But I don’t want to be naked. And I want to eat something and read my mother’s letter.”

  “Stay where you are,” he says, getting up and bringing the basket and my bag and laying them on the bed. Watching his lithe body move in the candlelight is almost enough to undo me again. He’s just so beautiful.

  “What would you like first?”

  “Food,” I decide. I’m absolutely starving. He reaches into the basket and pulls out the now-cold grilled cheese and starts feeding it to me, which makes me laugh. He does the same with the cheesecake.

  “Earth-shattering?” he asks.

  “Close enough,” I say, and nip at his fingers. Peter also pours me a glass of wine and I sip at it, savoring the last taste of it I will ever have. When I’m full of food and can’t take any more, he pulls out the letter and I slide the ribbon off with shaking fingers.

  “If you would like some privacy, I can leave.” I grab his wrist to stop him from getting up again.

  “Don’t you dare.”

  I unfold the letter and a waft of my mother’s scent hits me and I nearly burst into tears, but am able to hold it back.

  Ma Fleur,

  This is the first of my letters you will read, and it is the last I have written. They are in order in this box, so if you choose to read them one at a time, or all at once, you can do that.

  I have spent weeks writing these letters, some I have written alone, some with the help of your father. He loves you so much, baby. I know the power of your love for each other and for me will get you through this. Don’t be too hard on him, and don’t be too hard on yourself.

  It is always darkest before the dawn.

  I didn’t write these letters to make you sad, because I don’t want you to be sad. I want you to have joy and laughter and love every single day for the rest of your life. Sometimes, you have to make happiness happen. You have to look for it, to find it, to decide on it. I have faith in you, my sweet girl.

  Since this is the first letter, I’m not going to give you too much advice. There are more that are filled with everything I ever wanted you to know. You will get to those in time, and even if you don’t follow any of my advice and bits of wisdom, it is enough knowing that you have them if you need them. That I am here with you.

  Always.

  With all my love, all my heart, and all my soul,

  Your Mother

  P.S. Send my love to Peter as well.

  By the time I finish reading, my eyes are wet and Peter is brushing the tears away so they don’t fall and get the letter wet. Without a word, I fold it back up and curl into his chest to cry a few more human tears.

  Peter

  I was not sure how she would take the letter, if there would be anything in it to change her mind. If now that we have made love, she will want to stay human.

  The decision is hers alone. I test our connection, searching for doubt, but all I can find is love and sadness and hope. Hope for the start of a new life.

  I hold her for a while as the candles gutter down to stubs and many of them go out. I have plenty left, enough for three days. The light will help keep her grounded, and might make the transformation easier. Anything to make it easier for her.

  She breathes in and out deeply and turns her chin up so she’s looking at me.

  “I’m ready.” I nod and give her human lips one last, long kiss.

  It’s time.

  Tex

  Viktor doesn’t tell me to stop pacing, which is really nice. I feel like a human guy would be up my ass about it, but he just sits and lets me do it, busy fingers flying on my computer.

  “I don’t know why we haven’t heard from them. Didn’t Peter say he would text one of us when it was done? Maybe something went wrong. Maybe he killed her. Ohhh, if he killed her I am going to murder him. Are you sure wooden stakes don’t work on you?”

  My tirade is met with a steady gaze as he closes the computer. Unlike a human guy, he doesn’t get mad at me for interrupting him, or closing his computer when I want to talk to him. He just knows that means I really, really need to talk and he stops what he’s doing and indulges me. I mean, he does have a lot of freaking time.

  “It will be fine. He won’t kill her.”

  I make a sound of frustration and throw myself face-first on my bed.

  “You’re no help at all.” I could make him have sex with me. That would take my mind off things for a while, but now doesn’t seem like the time. Not when my best friend could be bleeding to death.

  “I can’t take it anymore. I’m going.” I say it partially so see what his reaction will be. I go for the door, but he’s off my bed and holding my arm to stop me quicker than you can say “vampire”.

  “Leave them be. They need time, Tex.” His voice is soft, but I can feel that he is serious, and he’s worried about me. I like that he’s worried about me, but I’m more worried about Ava right now.

  “Would playing the date game help you?” His tone is joking and I almost roll my eyes. Viktor, by virtue of being so old, and also having so much time on his hands, is as good at naming dates of historical events as I am. Well, actually he’s better, but I would never tell him that. Don’t want his ego getting too big.

  I’m about to make a snappy retort to his suggestion when my phone buzzes.

  “Oh, thank God.” My hands shake as I hold the phone up to read the text.

  She is fine. See you on Monday.

  I hold the phone up for Viktor to read.

  “That’s it? No details. Yeah, that’s not gonna fly.” I hit Dial and the phone rings four times before he picks up.

  “Texas,” he says, always using my full name. His voice is cool and calm. It always freaks me out when he gets like that. I mean, Viktor has a tendency to do that, but at least I have that mental connection to help me figure things out.


  “Hey. Your text messages leave a lot to be desired, you know. How is she? What’s going on?” Viktor doesn’t try to take the phone from me, but I can feel him pushing me in my mind.

  “Stop that,” I say to him before returning to my conversation with Peter. “Come on, I need details. She’s my best friend.” Shit, am I about to cry?

  “She is resting. The blood gain is too much for her body to handle, so she passed out. This is normal. It will take a day for her to wake, but she will not fully be herself again for a few days. I will let you know when she wakes up and let her talk to you as soon as she knows who she is.”

  “What do you mean, ‘knows who she is’?” That doesn’t sound good.

  “The transformation is so . . . overwhelming, we tend to forget who we are for a time. I have plenty of things to help bring her back more quickly. I have planned for this. You need not worry.” Viktor gives me a look like, “See?”, but I ignore it.

  “Okay, okay. Just . . . keep me updated and tell her that I love her. If you need anything, let me know and I’ll come up.”

  “Thank you, Texas. She sends her love as well.” Yeah, unconscious love.

  I hang up and then it happens. I start to freaking cry. I start to fall toward the floor and Viktor catches me. Bless his reflexes.

  Viktor

  I have never seen her cry like this. Combined with her emotional state, I can barely contain it all. My head spins with it and I bring her over to the bed. She’s not the only one who is having trouble standing.

  Bright blazes of pain and love and fear and any and every other emotion I knew are possible burst in my head and I have to close my eyes.

  “I’m so scared,” she says through sobs. “So scared for her. I can’t lose her.”

  “You. Won’t.” I am able to say, trying to see my way through the haze of emotions. It is no use sending her calm and care, but I try anyway.

  We lay on her bed, bombarded by all these human things, like a boat in the raging sea. She holds onto me and I hold onto her so we won’t be lost to it.