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Nightmare (The Noctalis Chronicles 2)

Page 55

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Somehow, it looked like it was coming back together.

Despite the anticipation for the coming night, I'm filled with light and happiness. A bright moment in my sometimes dark existence.

The thing that makes it the best is that Peter is there, standing behind me. I told him there was no way I was going into a crush of sweaty people without him as my personal talisman. So he came. I definitely got some weird looks from a few of the girls in my class who were on the team. He even gets the once and sometimes the twice-over. Taylor Abbot looks like her eyes are going to fall out of her head. Ha.

I twine my arms with his, showing them that he's with me. Hands off, ladies.

Mine.

When the meet is over, Jamie comes to give me a slightly sweaty hug, twirling me around before noticing Peter.

“Hey man, it's good to see you again. I'd shake your hand, but I'm pretty gross right now.” Actually, he smells intoxicating. Peter moves closer to me and puts a hand on my back. To anyone else, it would look possessive. But really, he's keeping me from sinking my teeth into Jamie's skin.

“It is good to see you as well.”

“Hey, why don't we all go out for pizza? I'm starved. Cassie's going to come.” He waves at her and she waves back, one hand on her stomach. I've never seen her look so happy. She's practically glowing.

“I don't know, Peter and I had plans...” I trail off, hoping he'll fill in the blanks for me.

“We can break them.”

“Are you sure?” Is he sure?

“Yes,” he says and blinks. Okay then.

Tex comes too, and we actually have a fantastic time. There's an awkward moment where Peter has to explain his lactose intolerance as the reason for not eating, but everyone accepts it and moves on. It's been ages since I talked to Cassie. She's bubbly like I haven't seen her in years, gushing about the baby and all her plans.

After we're all stuffed with pizza (except for Peter), I drive Tex home, Peter hanging out in the backseat. It's awkward, but at least I can see him in the rearview. Which actually makes it hard to focus on the road. Somehow I get us all there in once piece.

Tex is busy fiddling with something in her purse when I pull into her driveway.

“Shit,” she says, yanking her hand out of her purse as if it's on fire. Before I can say anything, a smell that overpowers everything else slaps me in the face.

Blood. Fresh, red and oh-so-delicious. No, wait! Not delicious. Yucky, gross...

Distantly, I watch Tex hold her hand up, examining the bead of scarlet on her fingertip.

“Stupid needles. They never stay on that little card...” Before I have the chance to wonder what Tex is doing with needles hanging out in her purse, my vision blurs and narrows to one point. That little, itty, bitty drop of blood. I want it.

I don't think. I just act. My hands, of their own accord, snap out like whips and wrap themselves around Tex's wrist. Slowly, closing my eyes and trying to be calm, I bring her finger to my lips. I register some resistance, but I will not be deterred from my goal. I shove her finger in my mouth. And...

Nothing. I spit it out and she yanks it back.

“What the hell, Ava? What is wrong with you? Ugh.” She wipes my spit off on her skirt.

“I'm so sorry.” My voice comes out so quiet, it's like I have no air behind the words. They shiver through the car, and I don't think Tex hears me.

“What is wrong with you?” She repeats. Her voice is quieter too. It's colored by disbelief. I stare at the shifter because I seriously cannot look at her. See the her face as she looks at me. As she realizes what I've done. As I realize what I've done. And then I want to get of of the car. Because I can'tbreathecan'tthinkcan'tcan'tcan't.

“Ava? Do you hear me?” Her voice seems so far away. As if she's talking through a tube that's been blocked. My vision continues to swirl and my head seems to float away from my neck like a balloon on a string. Just before it happens, I realize I'm going to faint. I have just enough time to watch the steering wheel smash into my face as I meet it halfway.

Chapter Twenty-One

Peter

I pull the door off the car and discard it before catching her face before it hits the steering wheel.

“Holy shit!” Texas screams, jumping back into the passenger door. I have no time for her.

“Ava?” I pull her face toward me. Her eyes are closed. “Ava. You need to wake up.” I shake her gently, and her head bobbles loosely. I know you are supposed to slap a fainted person, but I am afraid to do her damage. I pull her from the car, laying her on the driveway.

“Ava?” Her eyes flutter a few times. She's coming back.

“Peter? What happened?”

“You fainted, Ava-Claire.”

“I, what?” She puts her hand to her head. I feel her disorientation, thick and sticky. Her eyes search mine, her forehead puckers. I try to brush it away with my thumb.

“Peter?”

“Yes, Ava?”

“I did something bad.” The worry gnaws at her, bites at the edges of her mind. I feel it as well. She need not worry. I brush my fingers on her cheeks. Such a precious thing she is.

“You could never do anything bad, my Ava.” Her face smooths like a piece of silk, but the worry doesn't go away from her mind.

“You've never called me that.”

“Not out loud.” Her skin starts to warm mine. My desires collide with each other. I want her lips as much as I want her blood. I am not sure which will win.

“Ava?” Texas crawls out of the car.

“Tex.” Ava closes her eyes and breathes her name like she wished she could take it back.

“Are you okay?” Tex hovers, as if she wants to make sure Ava is okay, but also scared of what occurred.

“No. I'm not.”

She nods. “Yeah. I know. I think we should talk.” Her hands twist together, as if she's coiling and uncoiling a rope. Ava stares at me. I can feel it from her. She doesn't want to. But I know we have to.

My thumb traces her mouth. “You need to share this with someone. Someone human. Because I am not.”

She tries to shake her head. “I don't care.”

“I know. But you need her. Now more than ever. Don't burn your bridges, Ava-Claire.”

“That's what she'd say.” She means her mother. I know. I take my hands from her face and help her to sit up.

“I really don't want to do this.” My back blocks her face from Texas' view.

“I know.” She closes her eyes and pulls in a shaky breath. Such a simple thing, breathing. It seems to calm them. Noctali are naturally calm, but ever since I'd Claimed her, I had experienced turmoil without a way of assuaging it. I tried to take a breath into my lungs. The dry air rattles.



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