Neither (The Noctalis Chronicles 3)

“I love you,” I say. Most of the time those three little words terrify me, but in this moment, I'm not afraid of them.

“I cherish you, Ava-Claire.” Who needs love when you can have that?

The voices are tearful as I walk down the stairs. Mom's friends all have red eyes and are clutching each other. Mae and Liz look like they're at her funeral already. Mom instantly sees me and pulls me into her arms, popping a smile on her face. Effortlessly.

“We're going to be okay, right Ava-Claire? Everything is going to work out. Hm?”

I nod and put my head on her shoulder. One by one her friends come to hug me: Helen, Mae, June, and Liz. Dad stands back, and I can tell he's doing whatever he can not to cry and doing a terrible job of it. One tear rolls down his face.

The smell of their blood is flooding the room, and it's all I can do not to bite all of them. I'm a human vampire. Pretty effed up, if I say so myself.

Somehow we all end up in one giant hug, and then someone starts laughing — I don't know who — and then we're all laughing and wiping our eyes. I hold my breath.

“So much for the cake,” Mom says.

“It's fine. We'll take it home,” Mae says. The rest nod and start cutting the cake in pieces, digging out our Tupperware and promising to bring the containers back.

“I don't need them. Have them,” Mom says, her arm still around my shoulders. I want to scream that we certainly do need the Tupperware. She will need it; she isn't dead yet. I can’t, because soon she won’t, and I am not sure if I will.

“No, no, we'll bring it back,” they all say.

As soon as they can, they all make their exit, giving Mom more hugs and promising to call and stop by and so on and so forth. They start talking about a movie night or shopping trip. I don't think those things are going to happen. People say things to your face, but when it comes down to it, most of them don't follow through. I hope they will. She needs them. Everyone needs friends, especially in a time like this.

“Phew,” she says when they finally drive down the road. “That was more intense than I thought it would be. Now just wait, the phone's going to start ringing.”

Her prophecy comes true a half hour later. Now that everyone has cell phones, Facebook and whatever else, news travels faster than fire.

We all sort of stare at each other, and Dad goes to answer it.

He says hello and rolls his eyes. “Yes, hi Marion. Yes, I know. Uh huh.” He mimes shooting himself in the head, and Mom and I gave him sympathetic looks. This is going to get old fast.

Mom turns to me as Dad tries to get Marion off the phone as quickly as possible. “Well, the cat's out of the bag now. I'm going out to the garden. If he wants, put the phone off the hook.”

With that, she's out the door, grabbing her sun hat on the way. Dad is still knee-deep in sharing sympathies with Marion, who is the secretary at the elementary school Mom worked at. I wave to Dad and go back upstairs. Hell, I need a nap.

Peter has his arms spread out when I open the door, and I climb into them and shut my eyes. I don't care that I still have my clothes on, and it's the middle of the day and I’m too old for naps. I'll worry about everything that needs to be worried about tomorrow. I'm done for today.

Peter

Humans have too many emotions, I decide while Ava is sleeping. Too many complications. I had not realized how quiet the noctalis life is until I started sharing hers.

I hesitate to leave her while she is sleeping, but I do use her phone to call Viktor. He made contact with Rasha and Kamir.

“Will they come?”

“It might be a few days. They are not fond of air travel, and it will take time to ready their boat.”

Rasha's noctalis form is that of a crow. Her wings are small, but they rival mine for quickness. Kamir's form is that of jaguar. They are a matched pair in their other forms, even though she is a creature of the sky and he was a creature of the land. They never part, even though she misses the sky terribly. Or so Viktor has told me.

Part of me considers what Ava will be like if I change her. What her form will be. An image of her with white gossamer wings flits through my mind, but it is gone before I can grab onto it. I promised I would do it if she wanted. She is not ready. I am not sure if she is aware, but her hesitancy overwhelms her assertion that she is. I'm not sure if you are ever ready for immortality, if there is any way to prepare. I was not prepared, and I would take it back if I could. I still hold out a tiny thread of hope that she will end me, but I would still rather be chained to her. Being Ava's prisoner is better than being free.

“How is Texas?” I ask Viktor.

“She is doing well. How is Ava?”

“Well.”

“Who are you talking to?” Texas' sleepy voice says in the background.

“Peter,” Viktor says, leaning to talk to her.

“Hey, Peter,” she says. I can tell she is tired.

“You can go to sleep. I am not leaving,” Viktor says, his voice full of tenderness.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” She mutters something, and he gets back on the line with me. “I will see you tomorrow. I too must stay near the school now.”

“See you tomorrow.”

I hang up and set the phone back on Ava's nightstand. Her eyes flutter and I stop moving so I won’t wake her.

“Don't go,” she says, one of her hands reaching out.

I twine it with mine and she relaxes. I sense her dream distress, but I can't read her mind to see what is wrong. The mind reading seems to come when I least expect it. I turn our hands over, studying hers entwined with mine. I want to keep it there. Always.

Six

Brooke

The pain consumed me for hours, escalating until it was all I could see, hear and taste.

It was bright and hot like metal.

When I finally opened my eyes, I could see everything, as if the world was connected by tiny threads that I never knew existed. I could hear the earth shifting. The air was not transparent at all. It was filled with all kinds of things.

“Hello again, Brooke,” Ivan's voice said.

I turned and saw him standing against the wall. He was even more flawless than when I'd seen him last, if that was possible. I could see the lines of his face, his hair, his eyes, everything with a clarity that would have been too much for me before.

“Hi, Ivan.” My voice sounded different, too. He was staring at me. Well, not at me. Behind me.

“What beautiful wings you have, love,” Ivan said.

I reach my hand back and touch them. Although they were thin, they were made of a strong membrane that would not tear, even in a hurricane. I followed them to where they attached to my back. They blended into my skin without stopping. They were a part of me. My shirt had shredded from where they'd ripped through it, so it was no more than tatters. My bra was still intact, so he hadn't seen the rest of me.