Neither

  “As long as it's not Dirty Dancing,” he says, glaring at Tex. Her face goes bright red and without warning she slugs him in the face.

  He grabs his cheek and doubles over. “What the hell, Tex? What was that for?”

  “Oh my God,” I say, going to see if Jamie's okay. Tex stands there, looking at her hands as if she's never seen them before. Shit.

  “I'm so sorry! I don't know — I have no idea what happened. I was angry and then —” She shakes her head, as if trying to erase it like an Etch-A-Sketch.

  “Are you okay? Let me see,” I say to Jamie, trying to get him to stop holding his face.

  Luckily, we're hanging out in the parking lot and there aren't a lot of people around. If we'd been at lunch, Tex would have gotten hauled to the Head Office. As it is, there are a few people rubbernecking. I glare at them and they go about their business. Stupid nosy idiots.

  Jamie turns his face up and I see that she got him right on the cheek. That angry red mark is going to turn into a lovely bruise soon.

  “We should put some ice on it.” He flinches as my fingers prod the spot.

  “No, I'm fine. I've dealt with a punch to the face before. It's fine.” Jamie shakes his head, too.

  “Jamie?” Tex holds out her hands as if she's begging. Tears run down her face and she starts to fall. Before I can catch her, Viktor is there, coming out from behind a car at lightning speed.

  “You're fine. It will be okay.” They sound like words he learned somewhere else, and not like things Viktor would say. They sound odd with his accent.

  “What did I do?” Tex sobs, turning to put her face in Viktor's chest. He holds her close, whispering in her hair.

  “Where did you come from?” Jamie says.

  Oh, dear. Jamie would have to be blind not to have seen how fast Viktor moved. This kept getting stickier and stickier. We should just tell him what is up and get on with it. Tex and my mother took it well.

  “I was just coming to meet Tex,” Viktor says, not really answering the question.

  Jamie works his jaw, wincing. He's still looking at Viktor as if he knows something is up, but isn't sure if it is his mind playing tricks on him.

  Tex is still mumbling into Viktor’s chest. She turns her head.

  “I'm sorry, Jamie.”

  “Geez, I guess I just know not to insult that movie anymore. I didn't know you were so passionate about it.”

  “I really like Patrick Swayze,” she says, as if that explains it. She and I need to have a chat ASAP. I'd told her about my experiences with the Claiming and how my emotions were all over the place. Guess she didn't really believe me until it happened to her.

  “I've gotta get home, but I'll, uh, see you later.” Jamie makes a hasty exit.

  “We're going to have to tell him,” I say as Peter emerges from the woods. It's a good thing he hadn't come out earlier or Jamie would have been even more suspicious.

  “I don't think he's going to take it well,” Tex says, wiping her tears. “I can't believe I punched him. What is wrong with me?”

  “You have two people's emotions in your head. When you get upset it makes Viktor upset, which then makes you more upset. It's like a circle of anger, and then it explodes.” I've been there, done that. Except I hadn't punched anyone. Well, not yet.

  “How do you control it?” she asks.

  “Usually I run away from the situation before it gets that far.”

  Tex is more confrontational than I am, also more high-strung, so it's no surprise that she punched someone. It is a miracle she lasted this long and hadn't done something worse.

  “Are you sure we can't just blame it on extreme PMS?”

  “I don't think so, babe,” I say. “It'll be easier after we tell him, I think. Especially now that you're here,” I say the last part to Viktor. If he is going to be in Tex's life so much, Jamie is going to have to get to know him.

  “Should we do it tonight?”

  “The sooner the better, I think. I know he's dealing with a lot with Cassie, but it seems wrong to keep this from him,” I say.

  “I agree,” Peter says.

  “You would,” Tex responds with an eye roll. “Okay, okay. Let's all hop aboard the crazy train. Woo woo!” She makes a train noise and pretends to chug away.

  I laugh and look at Peter.

  “She's a strange girl,” Peter says.

  “Yes, she is,” I say.

  ***

  For all our talk, Tex and I chicken out of telling Jamie when we go to the movies. We share an insane texted conversation about it that afternoon and decide that we don't want to do it just yet. It seems like a better idea to let Jamie get to know Viktor and Peter before we drop that bomb on him.

  Tex agrees to the plan, so we meet at the movie theater and pretend everything is normal. They shake Jamie's hand and act as human as they can, remembering to blink and shift their bodies, etc. Viktor turns on his charm, and he and Jamie really seem to hit it off. It's harder for Peter, but he puts in a good effort. He even smiles and laughs a few times. I'm bursting with pride.

  We're going with the story that Viktor and Peter are brothers who both attend Galdon Academy and live with their lawyer mother. It's easy to add Viktor to the story I'd already concocted as Peter's backstory.

  The movie is good, but I spend most of it trying to get as close to Peter as I can so I don't sink my teeth into the neck of the chick in front of me. Her blood smells like a combination of frosting, cotton candy and apples, which sounds nuts, but that's what it reminds me of. Peter senses my distress and makes sure he keeps in constant contact with my bare skin, doing that calming thing he does. Nevertheless, I'm glad when the movie is over.

  The only awkward moments are when Jamie asks about popcorn, and when he asks if we want to grab a late slice of pizza after. All of us say we ate, but we sound like we're making it up. Or at least that's what it seems like to me.

  Jamie is wary of Tex, but after she apologizes a million times, he gives her a hug and says that all is forgiven. The angry mark on his face says otherwise.

  I hear her muttering to Viktor while we watch the movie. She's starting to get the blood smell and is freaking out about it. It took me at least a week or so before I started smelling, but maybe everyone is different. Tex must be an early bloomer. She got boobs before I did, so that would follow the pattern.

  There really should be a manual for this sort of thing. Maybe Tex and I can write one. So You've Been Claimed, Now What?

  ***

  Saturday morning comes and I have a mild freak out in the shower. Peter talks to me through the door, but even that doesn't help. My thoughts turn dark like storm clouds and whirl through my mind, picking up bits of negative thought debris and throwing it around my head until I can't breathe, can't think and can't stop.

  I finally turn off the water, grab a towel, pull it so it covers the important parts, and throw myself on him.

  “Calm down, Ava. Shhh.” He pats my wet skin as I try to breathe normally.

  “I don't know why I'm freaking out so much.”

  “Post-traumatic stress. We did not know about that when I was alive, but I have read some textbooks on the subject.” I really shouldn't have gotten him all those psychology books. He is turning into my shrink.

  “Yeah, that's probably it,” I say when I realize I'm half-naked and wet, and he's not wearing a shirt and his wings are out, and I want to do things with him that will make me forget about everything but the two of us. Now is not the time.

  So he doesn't have to, I'm the one who pushes away. His chest glistens with the water droplets I sprayed on him when I tried to tackle him. Look away, Ava.

  “Can you go out on the roof for a little while?”

  He nods and obeys. I hate making him leave, but he makes it hard to think sometimes. I dry off and get dressed, trying to calm myself without relying on Peter as a crutch. I need to start pulling away from him now so that when my mother dies, I'll be able to take most of it mysel
f and not dump it all on him. I should really take up meditation or yoga or something.

  We decide to meet in a neutral place: the cemetery. It seems appropriate since so much other craziness has gone down there. I've almost died there so many times, but still, I think of it as a peaceful place. My safe place.

  Peter and I meet Tex and Viktor, and we all drive over together. Tex is twitching with apprehension, and Viktor isn't looking that great, either. My knee won't stop jiggling, but Peter seems to be doing okay. Every now and then his hand twitches, and I get little pricks of stress. He tries to hide them, but I feel them anyway.

  Tex parks her car and we all sit there for a few moments. We're early; they're not supposed to be here for another few minutes.

  “Is anyone else freaking out?” Tex says in a wavering voice.

  “Me,” I say, raising my hand.

  “It will be fine,” Viktor says, opening the door and then coming around to open the driver's side for Tex. Peter does the same for me.

  In a sign of solidarity, Tex and I join hands with the guys on the outside, since Peter can't touch Tex, and Viktor can't touch me. They're the immortal bread of a human sandwich.

  “Where did you tell them to meet us?” I say.

  “They will find us,” Viktor says.

  I try to imagine what they look like. They'll be beautiful, probably. I've only met a few, but all the noctali I've met are very good-looking. I've seen pictures of Peter, and he looks pretty much the same as he does now, so maybe they just pick attractive people to change. The jury is still out.

  Tex grips my hand tightly, and I want to tell her to ease up, but I kind of need the pressure of her hand to help me focus.

  “There they are,” Peter says in my ear. I squint, but even with my enhanced vision, I don't see them until they're close. They float across the uneven ground as if their feet aren't touching it. Yup, they're beautiful. Shocking.

  The woman, Rasha, looks like she was peeled from the pages of a book about an Indian princess. Disney would be all over her. Her sari is bright pink and glitters in the sun. Her hair is so long it brushes her ankles and flows like black silk.

  The man, Kamir, is barefoot and only has a pair of matching pink pants on. I don't know what the pants are supposed to be called. The pair of them looks like two beautiful tropical birds. I feel awkward and American in comparison.

  “Wow,” Tex breathes. I'm sure they hear it.

  “Viktor, Peter,” Kamir says when they are twenty feet away. I wait for something to explode or for them to rush at us. Clearly, I have crazy expectations.

  Peter and Viktor bow their heads like they're saluting the king or something. They should have told us about noctalis etiquette. Is there noctalis etiquette? Peter's never said anything, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. I tug on our connection to see if I'm missing something, but he just tugs gently back. Okie dokie.

  “You have Claimed humans. Both of you,” he says, looking at me and Tex in turn. They are finally close enough for me to see that they share one dark eye and one hazel one. A matched pair.

  “It is nice to meet you,” Rasha says. Her voice is deep and beautiful. God, everything about her is beautiful. “I am Rasha. This is my husband, Kamir.” She nods to me and to Tex.

  I try to say something, but my big, clumsy words get stuck in my throat. I've never heard of a noctalis marriage before.

  “This is Tex,” Viktor says, holding her hand up for them to see. Maybe it's a territorial thing. This is MY human.

  “And this is my Ava,” Peter says for me. Rasha smiles, showing the most perfect teeth I've ever seen. A dentist’s dream.

  “I too was once a Claimed before Kamir fell in love with me.”

  “Yes, my love,” Kamir says, glancing at her. Their love is plain to see. As plain and lovely as the stars in the sky. They are not what I expected. Not at all.

  “We have traveled long and far and left our children to see you. How may we help?” Rasha says, stepping forward in the same delicate movement I'm sure she had when she was human. The bindi on her forehead sparkles.

  Peter defers to Viktor, since he's the oldest in both human and noctalis years. Guess you can never escape your age, even when you're immortal. Viktor explains our situation in the plainest words possible. Rasha and Kamir listen without moving, doing that stiller-than-still thing noctali do. I really hope no one decides to visit the graveside of their loved one today. That would be a fine how do you do.

  “Humans do not like us. They will stay away,” Rasha says, interrupting Viktor. She did not just read my mind. “I can read it on your face. Some of you are easier to read than others. I have had years of practice. Please, continue.” She waves at Viktor to go on. I still don't know what to make of them.

  When Viktor finishes our tragic tale, Kamir and Rasha share a wordless look.

  “We will need a moment.” I think they're going to walk away, but all they do is stare at each other, as if they don't need words. I've seen Viktor and Peter do something similar, but I have the feeling these two can share every thought they had in one second.

  It doesn't take long before Kamir speaks.

  “We have heard of your mother, Di. The apple does not fall far from the tree, in this case. Her father also made reckless binds.”

  “What?” The word slips out of my mouth. I've never heard anything about Di's noctalis parentage. I guess I've never really thought about it.

  “Her father was a man who thirsted for power and reached too far for it. He enjoyed nearly killing humans and then turning them to noctali only to have them make a bind that would kill them or make them his slaves,” Rasha says.

  How awful. Now we know where Di gets it from.

  “Sounds familiar,” I mutter. I can't seem to keep my mouth shut. “Sorry,” I say.

  Rasha's laugh ripples like bubbles in a stream.

  “Do not worry about offending us. We have lived many years and encountered many humans. You are not any better or worse than the rest of them.”

  Her smile is kind, and it makes me feel warm and gooey inside. I'm surprised Tex hasn't said anything yet. I glance at her out of the corner of my eye and she seems mesmerized. Well, so am I.

  “This is why we never make binds with our children. It creates resentment, and we do not wish to control them. Only to guide them. I am sorry it is not the same for you, Viktor, Peter. But your Claimed will have a better life than yours, I should think.”

  “We have not made that decision yet,” Peter says.

  Rasha steps forward and puts her hand on Peter's cheek. A little thrill goes through him and reaches me. He is in awe of her. Join the club.

  “Can you help us?”

  “Perhaps,” Rasha says.

  Is that a yes or a no? I can't help the frustrated sigh that I let out. Yup, I'm reckless. If I could get something concrete, that would be fabulous.

  “Do not fret, it will work out,” Rasha says, singling me out.

  “How do you know that?” I say.

  “If it is meant to be, then it will be.” She spreads her hands out, as if that answers it. I wish it was that easy.

  “You are young,” Kamir says, coming to join his wife and taking her hand. “You will see that although we are immortal there is one thing that can outlast us.”

  “What's that?”

  “Love,” he says with a smile at Rasha. They look like two love-struck teenagers, even after so many years.

  “But what if you can't love?”

  “Everyone can love. You just have to find a way,” Rasha says, leaning on Kamir.

  “What do you know about binds?” I say, throwing caution to the wind.

  “Enough not to make them,” Rasha says.

  “Do you know how to break them?”

  “The only way is to get rid of one of the noctali who made the bond.”

  “There is no other way?” There has got to be another way. I can tell Rasha and Kamir are having a silent conversation in their heads
.

  “If the bond is between parent and child, the parent can retract the bind.” No shit. No one ever said that before. I want to smack Peter on the arm. How could he not know that?

  “They can?” It's the first time I've ever heard shock in Peter's voice.

  “They can. They just choose not to.”

  Well, duh. I look at Peter and I can tell we're both thinking the same thing. That there is no way that Di is ever going to remove the bind. Not unless they make a better one, but that would just be two steps backward, and also pointless. So we're back to square one. Still, it is good to know.

  “Do you mind if we explore this town? We have not traveled in many years, and it is nice to have a break. This is a lovely place.” So now they want to hang out before they help us? It's true; you can't get anything for free. I hope they don't want to massacre the entire town. That would be too steep a price to pay.

  “Go ahead,” I say. “Just, um, be careful who you, you know.” I can't say be careful who you feed on.

  “We fed before we left. Kamir and I only need to feed once a month, and only from willing donors.” Well, doesn't that sound lovely?

  “Willing donors?” Tex finally squeaks.

  “Yes,” Rasha says, looking at her. “We support the village, and in turn they give us blood. It is only a very little, and they take turns. We reward them for their sacrifice. They have something we need, and we have something they need.” Still seems kind of icky, but if it works, then who was I to judge?

  “Sounds like a win-win,” Tex says. Seems she's out from under the spell Rasha and Kamir initially had on her.

  Rasha smiles at Tex as if she doesn't know what to make of her.

  “It works for us, does it not, my love?”

  “Yes, it does. We will not harm anyone in your town. You have my word.”

  “Thank you,” I say. At least I didn't have to worry about a bunch of noctali loose in Sussex. That would have been one more thing to worry about on top of an already teetering pile of worries.

  “So that's it? You came all the way from India for nothing?” Tex says.

  If I could have stomped on Tex's foot I would have, but she moves out of my way. I squeeze her hand as hard as I can and wait for the hammer to fall. They've got to have some kind of threshold.