Neither (The Noctalis Chronicles 3)

“I don't really believe in omens and all that. Tex gave me this book on dream interpretation, but it was no help. I know what it means. I'm scared to lose you, but that's no mystery. I think about it all damn day. You'd think I'd get some peace when I slept, but no dice.”

“I am sorry. I would invade your dreams and change them if I could.” Anything to help her sleep. Her human body needs it.

“That would be kind of cool, even if it was creepy that you could affect my dreams.”

I think for a moment. “I do not remember dreaming.” I only know what it is like from her perspective. It is murky, dark and changes quickly, going from a normal day at school to a cave to a blue sky. Confusing and strange. They are a kind of magic, dreams.

She shrugs. “It's not that great. I wish I had more time to do stuff. You waste years of your life sleeping.”

“What would you do with your time?” I turn onto the main road that leads from Sussex to the more populated areas.

“Read more, probably. Maybe I'd be better at math if I had more time. Or maybe not.”

She laughs and turns on the radio to the pop station. One of her favorites, Taylor Swift, comes on and Ava hums along. Her mood is better, but there are still dark edges to it. She is worried about Claire, but is trying not to think about it.

“What would you like to do today?” I say.

“Nothing.” The wave of desire that hits me reveals her lie. Yes, she has shoved anxiety about Claire far to the back of her mind. I give her a look.

“Okay! Okay. I hate that you can read me like that. It's crazy embarrassing.” She hides her face in her hands.

“Ava,” I say, putting one of my hands on hers. I send my desire to her and she gasps, uncovering her eyes.

“You are not the only one.” I remove my hand from her skin so we don't get carried away.

“It's a good thing I'm not driving. I might have crashed.” Her voice is unsteady and her blood pumps faster. I should not have done that.

“I am sorry.”

“S'okay. Just... warn me next time.” She struggles to calm herself down, fiddling with the radio again. “Where are you taking me?” she says finding another Taylor Swift song.

“A place I found when I first came to Sussex. You'll like it, I promise.” It is so easy to promise her things. She may think that they are empty, since they are not binding, but for me, they are more important, because I choose them. I choose her.

“You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?”

“That would ruin the surprise.” She is worse than Claire.

I keep driving, taking her to a little church I found when I first started coming to Sussex to see my family and tried to end my existence. Every year after I hadn't succeeded, I would find a new place to reflect. Mostly on my failures. Now I want to show one of them to Ava. She will appreciate the beauty of a simple stone church.

It only takes twenty minutes to get there, since I drive as fast as I like. Ava doesn't ask me to slow down. She knows that if the car was to crash, I would be able to get her out. It thrills me that she trusts me with her life, but it is also a large responsibility. The heaviest thing I have ever carried.

We don't talk much on the ride. I am content to give her all the calm I can, holding her hand so I can pump as much as possible into her. She closes her eyes and dozes.

It is the most peaceful I have seen her in a while. I wish it could last forever.

Ava

I should go to school. I should focus more on other things, but I need a break. My poor human brain can only take so much. I need a vacation, even if it's only for a few hours. No Di, no Helena, no Brooke. No worrying about Viktor turning Tex. I'm still worrying about my mother's cold. She's not supposed to get sick. We've tried to keep the house sterile and limit her contact with people, but somehow some germs got into the house. Her immune system is compromised as it is, and a cold can be dangerous. Maybe it was Gretchen, that bitch.

I somehow fall asleep and wake when Peter kisses my shoulder.

“We're here.” I stretch and look out the window. Tall ancient trees surround a little stone church. It's so old there isn't even a road for cars. “Come on,” he says, getting out of the car and opening my door.

I step out onto soft ground that is spongy with moss. No one has been here in a while. The air is thick with moisture.

“What do you think?”

I look at the unassuming church. It's small, even smaller than my house, and made of stone. The door has long since rotted away, leaving only a stone doorway. There is a little turret that rises about ten feet above the main part and is capped by a little triangle with a tiny cross on it. I suppose there was once glass in the windows, but it is long gone. Peter takes my hand and leads me closer. The stones are rough and uneven, as if they were gathered and not made by a mason’s calloused hands.

“How old is it?” I say.

“I am not sure. Older than me.” He smiles and leads me inside.

The smell is of wet stone and dust, but it's not unpleasant. Our steps echo in the small space and my breathing is loud. Animals scurry and nestle in little nooks and crannies, and there are more than a few bird's nests.

“Wow,” I whisper, too afraid to use the full volume of my voice. It seems sacrilegious.

“Even if I don't have a soul anymore, I can appreciate the beauty of a church. My mother played the piano for our church when I was young. I can still hear the hymns in the back of my mind,” Peter says, his voice also quiet. I walk down the middle, brushing my hands on the stone benches that once held parishioners.

“I've never really been to church. Jamie used to go, back when he was younger, because his mom made him, but my parents weren't into it. Mom is too practical. She says she's more into science than religion. Guess that's different now.”

“I came here the first year after I changed. I don't remember how I found it, but I felt at peace here.” He walks all the way to the front of the church, where there is a stone altar.

“I feel like we shouldn't be here. Like we're not worthy, or something,” I say with a little laugh. Some dust crawls up my nose and I sneeze. “Is God going to smite me for sneezing in his house?”

“I don't believe so, Ava. If he does not strike me down for coming in without a soul, then I think you are safe.” He stops at the altar and looks up at the stone cross that somehow still hangs on the wall.

“It's so beautiful and sad. This empty church. It's like it's missing a heartbeat.”

“Like me. A shell without a heart.” It breaks mine to hear him talk like that.