Nightmare (The Noctalis Chronicles 2)

Aj and I serve as Mom, Peter and Dad sit down. I want to set another plate for Peter, but we wouldn't put anything on it, so I decide it's a stupid idea. His fingers brush my waist as I walk by him to give Mom a burrito.

“Don't you at least want a glass of water?” Dad barks from the head of the table.

Peter's eyes move away from me and focus on Dad. “No, thank you. I will eat at home later. I just wanted to come over and see Ava.” I sit down next to him and give him the briefest of smiles.

“So what are your plans when you graduate?”

“I'm going to college to study history.”

“Hm.” Oh that was it. I had to say something.

I give Dad a death glare. “Is there something wrong with history?”

“Yeah Sam, is there?” Aj jumps to my defense. Dad looks up from his meal, unaware that he's being ganged up on. His eyes bounce from me to Aj and back to Mom. He seems to have forgotten that his sister has a degree in history and works as a research assistant at a University.

“I guess not,” he mumbles. Point One for Team Peter.

Mom chimes in, “so Jenny, I haven't had a chance to ask you about that project you were doing on the, uh, torture devices.” Aj's specialty was medieval torture devices. She was just a little bit twisted. Which was why we got along so well.

Aj's eyes light up with a feverish glow.

“Oh, it's going really well. We found this amazing set of thumbscrews that someone had in their attic. They had no idea what they were.” And she's off, going on about garotting and this thing that's called the Spanish Tickler which probably wouldn't make you laugh. It wasn't appropriate dinner conversation, but it was better than Dad verbally assaulting Peter. Or talking about Mom. Anything was better than that.

So we eat our burritos and Peter watches and we talk about thumbscrews. Typical Sullivan house dinner. Except it wasn't.

“Is this really appropriate?” Dad finally says.

“Oh lighten up, Sam. You were always such a wet blanket.”

“I just don't want to talk about ripping flesh while I'm eating dinner.” He wipes his face with his napkin and throws it back on the table. So much for a joyous family reunion.

Mom tries again, bringing up the current political scandal. Something about a call girl and a married senator. Those were a dime a dozen. I take my head out of their chatter and focus on Peter.

I've never felt weird eating in front of him, but now I do. There's a whole group of people scraping plates and chewing and he's sitting there with nothing in front of him. And then I have an idea. I pick up my knife and use it to cut part of my burrito. Because in the Sullivan house we can't eat burritos with our hands.

My utensils scrape the plate and I slide my knife on purpose toward my hand.

“Ouch!” I say as I slice my finger open. Luckily we had the fancy knives and not the butter kind, or it never would have broken the skin.

“Baby, are you okay?” Mom's eyes fly wide.

“No, I'm fine. Stupid knife. I'm just going to get a band aid. Peter?” Both Mom and Aj give me a look that I ignore. Dad makes a disapproving sound and I hear him mutter, “can't even get a band aid without him?”

Peter follows me, saying low enough that only I can hear, “you did that on purpose.”

I wait until we're upstairs in my bathroom.

“Of course I did. I felt horrible that we were all eating and you couldn't. So I'm going to feed you. Here.” I hold up my dripping finger. It wasn't much, but it was something. An appetizer.

“Take while it's still lifey.” I sit on the sink with him standing between my legs.

“Lifey?”

“Don't question, just do it.” He stays still while I shove my finger in his mouth. I didn't mean for it to be all sexy, but he takes my hand and runs his tongue all over my skin and the way he's looking at me... His eyes catch mine, like a butterfly in a net. Slowly, he pulls my finger out of his mouth. Sweet. Jesus.

“Thank you. But you did not need to do that.” He holds my hand in front of his mouth, as if he's savoring it.

“Well, I did. So there.” I sound all breathy. I feel all breathy.

“We should get back. I am sure your father thinks I'm ravishing you.” He lifts me off the counter and hands me a band aid from the basket on the sink.

“You can ravish me whenever you want.” I bite my lip to hide a smile. God, he was sexy.

I shouldn't have said that.

He doesn't answer. Except for a blink. Haha. I take advantage of the moment and ask him something I've been stressing about.

“Why was Ivan here?” I say as Peter wraps the sticky part of the band aid around my finger.

“I don't know.”

“Well, could you find out? Because I thought we were done with him.” He makes sure the band aid's secure and cradles my hand to his chest. He's being very touchy-feely tonight.

“It will not be over until he is destroyed.”

“Or the fat lady sings?” He doesn't smile.

“Not quite.”

“What are we going to do about it?”

“Viktor is protecting the house. If there is a problem, he will let me know.” I mash my head into his chest with a sigh.

“I don't understand why all of these things are happening at once. Can't we just have a moment to breathe?”

“We have a moment right now. A human moment.” His hand pulls my chin up. His lips meet mine for a sweet, slow kiss. Of course I go overboard and try to make it crazier, but he pulls back. Smart noctalis. I shouldn't have let him. Kisses are dangerous. As are longing looks and the brushing of fingers across skin. They lead to no good.

“We have to go see your friend. As soon as possible.” I'm not taking no for an answer.

“We're human, at least for a few more hours.”

If my family wasn't waiting downstairs, I'd say the hell with it, let's go. Even if there is a tiny, microscopic part of me that's scared of what we're going to find. Or who we're going to find. I know very little about Peter's life as a noctalis before me. I know it wasn't pretty, and I can't imagine what kind of friend he'd have. But it can't be worse than what we've already gone through. I hope.

The rest of the dinner goes uneventfully, and soon it's time for Peter to “go home and eat dinner with his own family.”

I say goodbye to him at the door, pretending that I'm not going to see him until Monday.

“Bye, Peter.”

“Goodbye, Ava-Claire.” He brushes my cheek with the back of his hand. I miss him already. I close the door on him and I'm instantly zapped of energy and it can't be my imagination that the smell of blood from the humans in the other room intensifies. What is this? I can't even be a few rooms away from him?