Neither (The Noctalis Chronicles 3)

“Well, you're an angel vampire. You should get on that time machine, chop chop,” I say, poking his chest.

“I would make a time machine for you, my Ava.”

“Where should we go? I'm thinking Victorian times. I really, really want to carry a lacy parasol and see you wearing one of those sexy long coats and a top hat. Yum. Although, I'm not so cool with the corsets.”

“You wouldn't need one. Your figure is perfect the way it is. His hand strokes back and forth across my stomach, and there is a fluttering deep in my soul.

“Ah,” he says, probably feeling it. Then I get another flutter, but it's darker, more insistent. It's from him.

“You should get some sleep.” The last thing on my mind is sleep.

“Then you shouldn't touch me like that.”

“Ava,” he says, staring into my eyes, into the depths of my soul. “I don't think I can stay next to you right now.” Without another word he gets up so fast that my head bangs against the pillow as he removes himself from under me.

I run to the window, but he's on the roof. I look up to see him peering down at me.

“It's too hard, Ava. To be near you and not feel it.”

“That's what you wanted, originally.”

“I know. But now that there is a chance I could have it, even if it's wrong, I want it. I want it more than anything I've ever wanted. I want you more than anything.” His desire comes to me in dark ripples, slowly flowing through my body. It is warm, slow and torturous. There is something else there, something deeper. Something that feels a lot like love.

“Goodnight, Peter.” I don't tell him that I love him. I don't say anything for fear it will trigger something and I'll lose him. I can't lose him. The thought of losing Peter makes me feel like I'll never breathe again. It's different than the pain I feel when I think of losing my mother. That is more of an ache, dull and long-lasting. Losing Peter would be bright, sharp and cataclysmic. I would not survive losing them both.

I think back to the nightmares I have, where they both burst into flames. I can't let it come true.

***

Sleeping without Peter is hard. I toss and turn, and my bed feels cold and huge. I open my mouth to call him down from the roof, but I can't let the threat of losing him out of my mind. I can get through a damn night. I slept for seventeen years without him and I can do it again.

In the morning I get up and he's still on the roof. I shower and go downstairs alone. Mom and Dad are yawning in the kitchen, exhausted from the day before. The house is spotless, thanks to Aj. Mom didn't say anything when we walked into the cleanest house I'd ever seen last night. Either Aj is the best cleaner ever, or she hired a crew.

“It looks like the cleaning fairy has been here,” Mom says, wiping her finger across the spotless kitchen counter.

“Imagine that,” Dad says. “I hope she didn't leave any fairy dust behind.”

“Oh I don't know about that. A little fairy dust never hurt anyone,” Mom says.

I make breakfast, trying not to mess up the immaculate kitchen. I wonder how long it will last.

Peter isn't waiting in my car, but instead twenty feet away by the trees. I'm afraid to even make eye contact with him, so I just pretend he isn't there. It's one of the hardest things I've ever done. It's like trying not to close your eyes when you're staring at the sun. I arrive at school and he still doesn't approach me. Viktor and Tex are canoodling by her car, complete with hair flipping and giggly laughter. Viktor's face is animated, and he is gesturing with his hands. From far away they just look like a normal couple. He says something and she throws her head back, gripping onto his arm.

Why can't I do that? I glance around for Peter, but he's nowhere to be found. He's close, but hiding.

“Where's your surly shadow?” Tex says as I walk up to them.

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Tex,” Viktor says.

“Right, sensitive. Sorry. Viktor's trying to help me be sensitive.”

“Thank you,” I say to Viktor.

“Hello? Standing right here.” She waves her hands in front of my face. “So, let's try again. What happened?”

“I don't want to talk about it.” I wrap my arms around my chest because it's really starting to hurt. Not like the times when he leaves. This is a different kind of hurt. Like a piece of me is missing and has left a hole I need to cover up.

“I'm sorry, honey.” Tex hugs me, but I wish it was more. I wish someone would wave a magic wand and make all my dreams come true. Stupid fairies. They can clean my kitchen, but they can’t take my bad dreams away.

“Did you do anything fun this weekend?” she says. I took my dying mother to check off an item on her bucket list, how about you? I don’t want to talk about it. It isn't that I don't want to tell her, but I'm not sure she'll really understand. Although, it would be fun to laugh about Real Estate Gretchen with Tex.

“Fine. Nothing earth-shattering.”

“Oookaaayyy,” she says, glancing at Viktor.

“I'll see you later,” I say, spotting Jamie. I can't deal with Tex anymore. “Jamie, wait up.” I jog up to him. Peter follows in the shadows.

“Where's your other half?” he says, looking behind me for Peter, one of his hands in his pockets.

“I don't really want to talk about it. Where's yours?” Brooke and Helena must be around here somewhere.

“Around.” There's something sad about the way he says it. Mere days before he was so taken with her that he wasn’t able to keep a smile off his face. Something has happened.

“I'm surprised she's letting you talk to me after that reception she gave us.” With the hissing and everything.

“That's not fair, Ave.” I want to open my mouth and tell him all the mistakes he's making, but I can't. Hypocrite, remember? “She's a part of my life now.” His mouth sets in a stubborn line.

“How long have you known her?”

“Less than two weeks, but that doesn't matter. The second I saw her on the side of the road, I would have done anything for her. She's it for me.” He rolls his shoulders back like he does before a game. I've seen him do it a million-billion times. He's ready to fight for her.

I try an indirect approach. “So the immortal bloodsucking thing doesn't bother you?”

He sticks his other hand in his pocket and hunches his shoulders. Oh, something is definitely up.

“Doesn't seem to bother you,” he says. Good point.

“It's weird what you can get used to when you love someone.”