Nocturnal (The Noctalis Chronicles 1)

“Peter.”

“Ivan.” Oh, shit. My eyes snap to Peter, waiting for him to leap in front of me, or pull out a sword.

Nothing. If this is Peter riled up, then I'm in trouble. If possible, he's even stiller than normal, which does not bode well for me.

“What do you want?” I say. I'm wondering if I should run or scream or do something. I glance to Peter for guidance, but he's not looking at me. A little help here?

“Has Peter ever told you about the first noctalis?” My eyes grope to pick him out from the shadow of the trees. There. He's wearing dark colors, which appear to be the noctalis clothing of choice.

“No.” What does that have to do with anything? I'm still debating about running. Peter said he couldn't touch me, so I might as well not provoke him. Isn't that what you're supposed to do when you're attacked by a bear? Not run away. So far, he hasn't done anything threatening, which is actually more threatening than if he would have just run at me.

“The legend goes that he was a man who lived a long time ago.” I want to ask him why he didn't start with the once upon a time, but I keep my mouth shut and try to look disinterested, when I am the opposite. I hate that Peter kept so much from me.

“He was traveling one day and met a beautiful woman on the road. Men are always lured by beautiful women, are they not?” I try not to shift my feet. I try to channel Peter and then I stop. I'm not getting good vibes anymore.

“The woman was strange and still and exquisite. He had just lost his mother and father to an illness and was traveling to find a new life. She spoke to him, whispered in his ear promises of eternal life, of never being sick, or growing old. He would be perfect, forever. He would also be powerful. No one would be able to hurt him. Ever. She stroked his cheek and he fell under her spell. She kissed him and bit his lip. He tried to pull away, but she was too strong. She sucked the blood from his lips and laughed. The sound was like cracking ice. Sharp and hard. She took so much blood from him, his soul came with it. He felt a horrible tearing and screamed with the pain of it. The beautiful woman had taken his soul, but given him something else. Immortality. But it had come with a price, like everything.”

I had to admit, it was a pretty story. It also sounded like one of those legends that might be true, but it made me shiver.

“So, what is the moral of the story?” It takes me a second to realize he's actually asking me. I feel like I need to raise my hand. I do some quick thinking, which, given the situation, is nearly impossible. I take a guess.

“That noctali have no souls? They traded them for powers and immortality.”

“Precisely.” Ten points for me.

“No,” Peter says. I'm not sure who or what he's saying no to.

“Yes. You can't blame me, Peter. Blame yourself. Or blame her.” His eyes shift to mine, and I struggle not to get caught in them. Being trapped by him would be walking into a spider's web willingly.

“Don't talk about me like I'm not here,” I say.

They both snap their attention on me and it's like being blinded by a spotlight. It sort of reminds me of my first dance recital. When I stepped out on the stage the first time, my tights falling down and itching my legs, I was blinded by the lights and tried to run back to the wings and hide. My teacher had shoved me back on, hissing at me to get on the stage. I was terrified of her, so I went. The fear lasted until the music started.

I'm still waiting for the music to start.

“We are more aware than you know, Ava.” I hate the way my name sounds coming from him. Ivan starts to laugh. It's not really a laugh. It's a harsh sound that grinds against my eardrums. I want it to stop. I want to clap my hands over my ears and hum to drown it out, but I can't. I can't show weakness. I must be strong.

Never turn your back. Advice is least heeded when most needed; Bad is never good until worse happens; A half-truth is a whole lie.

It is always darkest before the dawn.

“Stop.” We all turn.

It happens so fast that I don't have time to duck before I'm on the ground. Dirt blasts into my lugs and I lay there for a second, praying nothing is broken. There's something holding me down.

“Stay down.” It's Peter. I try to move my head, but I'm having some issues. Finally I'm able to turn it enough so I can breathe. I choke on some of the dirt and grass I've inhaled. I try to survey my body for any damage and figure out why Peter is holding me on the ground.

“Hello, Ivan. It's been a long time since you came and visited me.” Turning my head, I see Ivan on the ground, like me, with someone on top of him. Unlike me, I don't know who the person is. The voice is female. I make a tiny noise, and Peter shifts his hold on me so I can move my head a little more.

There is a woman perched on top of Ivan, holding him down. It's kind of crazy, because he's struggling, but somehow she has enough power to subdue him. A fountain of reddish-blonde hair skims her back. She's wearing a filmy dress that isn't even dirty or torn. I can't see her face, but something tells me she must be gorgeous.

“Hello, Mother.” Mother? It's clear there's no love lost between them. It sizzles in the air like static electricity. I wish I could sink into the ground and slink away. Whatever has happened, I'm not sure I want to be around to see how it turns out.

The pressure releases somewhat from my back and I can breathe better. I lift up my head a bit more. Peter squeezes the back of my neck. It's some sort of signal, but I have no idea what he wants me to do.

“What have we here?” She turns to face us, still holding Ivan down with very little effort. I'm right, she is beautiful. I can't say exactly why. Her nose is small and dainty. Her eyes, one a multi-hued hazel, the other an icy gray, are perfectly set in her face. I remember once in biology that we talked about the Golden Ratio. I didn't understand it exactly; it has something to do with symmetry being the essence of beauty. Anyway, if there is anyone who fits those calculations exactly, it's be her.

“Hello.” I can't think of what else to say, so I go with my gut.

“Hi.”

“I don't believe we've been introduced. I'm Di Hart. I see you've met my boys.” Her eyes flick to Peter and Viktor and Ivan in turn.

“I'm Ava.” The absurdity of the situation is not lost on me.

“You should let her up, Peter, dear, I believe she might suffocate.” Finally, the pressure is completely gone from my back. I use my hands to push myself up. They shake a bit, and I know everyone notices.

“I know how you hate it when you can't breathe,” Di says, nodding. None of us says anything.