Nightmare (The Noctalis Chronicles 2)

Before Ava is not a time I would like to think about anymore. But I have no choice. It is either go to Cal, do nothing and wait, or make Ava a noctalis. The last two options are impossible. So I must go with the first.

Even with the blanket, Ava is shivering. The air is thicker and warmer the farther south we go, but her body is vulnerable to chills.

“How much longer?”

“A few minutes.” We have made it into Florida. Palm trees dot the landscape like pointing fingers, reaching for the sky. Nearly all the buildings are beige or rust or red-colored. I dip lower so she can feel the warm air closer to the ground.

“I've never been to Florida.”

“Welcome to the Sunshine State.”

“Why don't you live down here? With the sun and all?”

“I have lived here before. Now I live where you live. Wherever that is.”

“The palm trees are weird. They kind of look fake. It's strange seeing different kinds of trees everywhere.” Sometimes I forget how young she is. How little she has seen.

Soon I pick up Cal's scent. It leads me to a residential area with houses in varying shades of brown stucco. This, I did not picture.

I know when I have found it. His smell is all over it. Along with traces of human blood. All noctali carry that smell. It is unavoidable.

“We're here.” When I set her down, she does not let go of me right away. I take her hand and we walk side-by-side.

“Here? A noctalis lives here?” I understand what she means. The house looks like any that a suburban couple might occupy, with perhaps a few children. There is a tidy lawn, even a few of those little lawn ornaments shaped like tiny people with funny hats that glare up at us as we walk by.

Her fear slips over me like a cloak. She had been so eager, but now that she is faced with the reality, she is scared. So human.

“He will know we are here. Stay behind me.” She obeys, ducking into my shadow, but not letting go of my hand. I will have to put some distance between us soon. Even though Cal is my oldest friend, that does not mean I will share my reason for the visit. Never trust a noctalis.

Except for Viktor. I would trust him with anything.

The front door opens, letting light flow onto the steps, outlining his form.

“Hello, Cal.”

Cal pauses for a fraction of a second. “Hello, Peter. I was not expecting you.”

“I have come to ask you something.” Ava peeks from behind my shoulder. He takes her in for the space of a human breath. Soon, I am going to make her angry with me. But it cannot be helped.

“Please, come in. Both of you.”

Chapter Sixteen

Ava

On the outside, the house looks like Mr. and Mrs. Sunshine and their 2.2 children would live here. There's a white fence. Freaking lawn gnomes. I swear they glare at me as I walk behind Peter. I can't see the man standing in the doorway because it's too dark. Even for my heightened eyes. I'm still human. Ish.

When we finally get close enough to see him, I'm ready to turn around and go back home. There's something spooky about this house, and I can't put my finger on it. But Peter just drags me along. This is his friend, after all.

As soon as we step on the porch, Peter steps away from me. I'm instantly chilled, and I don't know why. Instantly, I'm hyper aware of the distance.

Cal speaks first.

“Your Claimed.” He tips his head to the side, and I get an impression of slicked-back blond hair. He's definitely not wearing sweatpants, either. It's some sort of suit. He's wearing shoes, too. Fancy leather dress shoes. Who was this guy?

“Yes,” Peter's voice sends ice down my back. The last time I heard his voice so cold, he was strangling me in the cemetery. Something is going down. Nice of Peter to let me know. I send him a mental kick in the family jewels.

“I would not have picked you as the type to Claim.” His voice has an odd tone to it. I've grown use to the strange way the noctalis voice echoes. But his has something else going on in that voice. Something I don't like.

“It was not planned.”

“It rarely is.” His smile is nice, though. Soothing. He reminds me of a nice doctor you'd see. Not the kind that would give you a shot or anything, but the kind that would give you a lollipop.

“I'm Cal.” He looks at me as if he's trying to figure me out. I try not to wiggle under the scrutiny.

“Please, come in.” He sweeps his arm out and we walk into the house.

It's just as Mr. Sunshine on the inside as it is on the outside. I'm afraid to breathe for fear of dirtying the air. It's all done in beiges and silvers and blacks. Very masculine and neutral. As is Cal. His suit is all pinstripes and he's got a purple tie on. Very debonair. He's even got wingtips. Frank Sinatra plays softly in the background. Mack the Knife. I hope that's not an omen.

I finally say something. “You have a lovely home.” It seems like the right thing to say. I wonder if he was the decorator or if he has a woman.

“Thank you.” We walk into a living room that is so clean, I'm afraid to breathe on anything. “How long have you been Claimed?” I realize he's talking to me. I also realize his teeth are really white. They almost glow.

“Uh, two weeks?” Feels like forever. Peter's still freezing me out. I pluck at our connection, but it's like he's blocking me. I slam into a blank wall. What the hell? We need to come up with some form of nonverbal communication. Hand signals or blinking Morse code.

“What is it you need?” Cal's eyes flick from me to Peter and back. I don't like him looking at me. The house, while pretty, is super cold. I wrap my blanket closer around me. I wish I could hold Peter's hand.

“I want to know about binding promises.”

Cal raises one eyebrow. How is it he can do that, but Peter finds it so difficult?

“Her?”

“No. I could not leave her behind. It was uncomfortable.”

“I see,” Cal says.

I don't.

Cal studies us in silence for what seems like hours. I'm starting to get seriously uncomfortable with his perfect house and his perfect teeth and his perfect human imitation. This guy has got to have skeletons in the closet. Plus, he knew Peter back when. I know what he's like now, but I really don't have any concept of what he used to be like. The truth is that I really don't want to know.

I keep my mouth shut, even though I want to say something so bad. Can Peter make that kind of bind with me while I'm still human? We didn't discuss this on our way over.

Why did we not discuss this on our way over?

“Do you remember when I found you?”

“Yes.” Find another response, Peter. I want to kick him, but I'm not in a position to do so. It's like they've forgotten all about me. Peter hadn't told me anything of their past. Now I was starting to wonder. The house is still freaking me out. It's just too perfect.