Nightmare (The Noctalis Chronicles 2)

“You were the one who helped you. He just gave you a nudge in the right direction. I just don't trust him. And I know you're up to something, even though you won't tell me what it is.”

“Can we agree to disagree?” I look up at him, the sun streaming down upon him like it was meant to. Like the sun was made just for his illumination. I push his stubborn hair from his eyes so I could see them. I knew if I asked him to cut it, he would. If he weren't so damn beautiful, he wouldn't get away with half this crap.

“Sure.”

By the time we make it to the clearing, Viktor's doing laps with Tex, her delighted shrieks filling the air. Her hair streams out behind her like a slip of gold silk. Guess he can run with her.

Viktor puts the brakes on about two feet in front of me, kicking up a cloud of dust. Tex has her face buried in his shoulder. Viktor has a lot of shoulder available.

“Guess you can. How you holding up, Tex?”

“That,” she says, picking her head up and looking at me with sparkling eyes, “was amazing.” She doesn't seem to want to let go.

“How are your arms?”

“Fine.”

“If you get tired, let me know. I can carry you in front.” With that he reaches back, takes her arms and does some sort of acrobatic move from Cirque de Soleil and suddenly she's tucked in his arms.

“Wow,” she breathes out again. Seriously, wow. Those Russians know what's up.

“So we need to talk logistics,” I say, interrupting Tex's adoring gaze. Viktor's looking at her, too, but I can't read his face yet. Those noctali are so hard to read.

“I will fly with you and Viktor will follow with Texas.”

“It's Tex,” she says automatically.

“Anyway... Do we have a contingency plan. You know, in case of she-who-we-must-not-speak-of?” I give Peter a smile. Too bad I'm not wearing the green dress. Then I'd get it out of him.

“Viktor and I have prepared for such an incident.” Oh have they? Seems like Peter can share his plans with Viktor and not me. I try to bottle my oncoming freak out.

“What about Ivan?”

“I do not foresee him as a problem.”

“Yeah, that's probably why he showed up at my house unannounced.”

“Whatever he has planned, visiting Cal would not interfere with it.”

“How do you know?”

“Ivan wants us to think that he isn't up to anything.”

“But we know he is. He's always up to something.” Even I knew that.

“True.”

“So basically we're going to do nothing.”

“Yes.” Brilliant. That is so not the plan. The real plan is secret.

“I thought you were going to tell me.”

“I am sorry,” Peter says, tucking some hair behind my ear. At least he does look a little sorry.

“Sounds good to me,” Tex says, still staring at Viktor as if her eyes are glued to him. I want to do that snappy thing again, but she might slap me, and then I would want to kill her and that would get us nowhere.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Peter

I waited on her roof in a light drizzle as she had dinner with her parents. I listen for a little, but let her have her time. It was important that I didn't intrude any more in her life than I had to. The absolute best thing for her now would be for me to extricate myself and never see her again.

But that was not possible, and not just because of the Claiming. She had become part of the noctalis world. Even if she had only seen a small part of it, she had been exposed. It was like a disease that once you were exposed, there was no cure. You might not show symptoms, but it would 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 very human, but I respect it. Not that I would not enjoy to see 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 it 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 hadn't heard me. I knew she had. “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.