The Noctalis Chronicles Complete Set

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “I would love to,” he says, going to the dresser and tossing some clothes at me.

  “I wonder how Viktor is making out with the newbies. He said he was taking them hunting. This really has turned into the Noctalis Inn. I didn’t mean to make that a prophetic name, but it’s kind of turned into that. Or maybe it’s more like a group home. Ava-Claire Sullivan’s Home for Unfortunate Noctali.” It had kind of a ring to it.

  Peter smiles at me and it’s the flirty goofy smile that makes me forget about everything else.

  “That sounds good,” he says.

  “What does?” Seriously, what had we been talking about? That makes the smile widen and I just . . . Damn.

  “You are adorable,” he says, and it’s almost like I can feel myself blushing, but I know this isn’t true. I don’t blush anymore.

  “I can hear you blushing,” he says, and I throw a pillow at him, which he catches.

  “That’s cheating.

  ~^*^~

  “So I had an idea,” I say as we’re flying back to my house under the cover of darkness. “Since things have gotten even more insane than they already were, I was thinking now might be a good time to tell Dad about everything. Then I won’t have to lie all the time, plus it seems like we’re going to be needed at the new house a lot more with the new arrivals and I don’t think I’m going to be getting back to the bookstore anytime soon, so . . . what do you think?”

  I really, really need and want to know what he thinks. I feel like I can’t make decisions for myself anymore. Peter and I have a . . . dualocracy. Or at least it feels that way. With our minds so connected all the time, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to just have my own thoughts and my own thought processes. That’s probably a sign that I’m too far in this relationship, but there’s not a whole lot I can do about it at this point.

  “Your mother took it well, but are you sure this is the right time? It might not be too much for him?” He asks the exact questions I want him to, not the questions he normally would ask.

  “I love you. So much.”

  “I know. I love you too.” We share a quick midair kiss that’s pretty freaking hot. I’d joked with him about making love midair and now it was sounding like a good idea. Maybe later . . .

  “I think that if I don’t do it now, that I’ll put it off forever and then I’ll just keep putting it off and then I’ll never do it. I’ll find reasons to not do it and then . . . what if something happens to him and I never told him? I can’t let him . . . I can’t lose another parent and regret not telling him everything. I told Mom and I am so glad that I did, because I don’t have that feeling of regret that some people have when a loved one d-dies. You know?”

  “Yes. I know,” he says as we land by my car at the cemetery. He rides with me back to the house, and it takes the whole ride to get up the courage to ask him a question that he already knows I’m going to ask.

  “Of course I will,” he says, taking my hand as he opens the door for me.

  “Stop that. I don’t like it when you read my mind. Sometimes it’s sexy and sometimes it’s creepy. This is one of those creepy times,” I say, and I realize it comes out kind of snotty.

  “Sorry. I’m just freaking out.”

  “You never have to apologize to me.” That makes me think of a movie and I smile.

  “Love means never having to say you’re sorry. God, that was a dumb movie.” Stupid Love Story.

  “Shall we?” I’m sort of stuck, my feet unable to move forward without Peter helping me.

  “Yes. We shall.” I take a deep breath, just for old times’ sake.

  Peter

  Her mind is trembling with nervousness and I hold her hand tightly so she knows that I am there and I am supporting her. This is not an easy thing to do, and not even the second time.

  “Hey, Dad,” she says, walking into the living room where he’s reading a book. The house is quiet, the only sound from the humming appliances, his body and the ticking clock.

  “Peter, nice to see you. I didn’t know you were coming over. Your mother loosened up the reins a little bit?” He laughs and makes a little joke and Ava and I smile on cue.

  “Actually, Peter came to, um, give me some moral support. I . . . I need to tell you something. A lot of somethings actually.” She pulls me over to the couch and we sit down. Sam’s heart rate picks up, but I can tell that he expected this. He knew all along that something had happened, but couldn’t put his finger on it. Whatever he thinks is probably not near to the truth. He doesn’t seem like a man with a lot of imagination, but he might surprise me.

  “I had a feeling this was coming. I’ve noticed, Ava. You’re different. You’ve been very secretive lately, and I’d have to be blind not to notice the changes in you. I’ve been staring at those green eyes for nearly eighteen years, and sure as hell I’m going to notice when one of them changes. So what’s going on?”

  Ava looks at me and I give her a mental push of encouragement. She can do this.

  “Dad. I’m dead.”

  These three words take him nearly a minute to absorb. He sort of smiles, waiting for the punch line of the joke.

  “Yeah, I suck at this. It was kind of easier with mom. Okay, Dad, give me your hand.” She sticks out her own hand and I let go of her other one. Sam holds out his hand, still waiting for her to say ‘just kidding!’.

  “So,” she says, taking his hand and putting it on her wrist, right where her pulse should be. “Do you feel that?”

  “Feel what? Your heart? Ava, what’s going on?” His face goes white when he doesn’t feel her heart beating.

  “Yeah. You’re not going to find a heartbeat. Or a pulse. I don’t have one anymore. That’s also why my eyes have changed. If you’ll notice, my skin feels different as well.” She takes his hand off her wrist and places it on her neck where her pulse used to be.

  “You’ll also notice that I haven’t blinked or breathed, except to talk, since I walked in. I’ve been pretending for you since June, but I can’t do it anymore.” She lets him have his hands back and we both watch as his face goes through several color changes while he swallows and blinks rapidly.

  “Dad?” Ava reaches out to him, but he flinches back.

  “What happened to you?” His voice is choked, as if he can’t breathe.

  “It’s kind of a long story. I think we’ll need to do this in stages, maybe. But for right now just know that I don’t breathe, or sleep, or eat anymore. But I’m fine. I’m happy and this is what I wanted. Mom knew, and she said it was my choice. So . . . so, here I am.” She stops and gives him a chance to say something.

  “Who else knows?” he finally says. This is going to be a long conversation.

  Thirty-Four

  Tex

  He should have at least left me somewhere with a mall, but Viktor leaves me in a restaurant at a table by myself instead. It’s safest, I suppose, but I look like a complete loser, sitting here by myself eating plate after plate of appetizers and drowning my sorrows in lots of Mountain Dew so I can stay awake.

  “Your date stand you up?” My waitress has clearly abandoned me, so I’m surprised when someone speaks to me directly. I look up and see a busboy, his tight white t-shirt sleeves rolled up to show several tattoos. That’s all I get from my vantage point before I move my gaze up to meet a set of warm brown eyes under a head of shaggy hair that’s midway between brown and dark blonde. My eyes move back down and see a smile that’s subtle and sexy. Ah, cute busboy. Just my luck.

  “No, I’m just waiting for someone.”

  “Ah, I see. Your boyfriend.” He picks up his rubber bucket of dishes and starts to move away. “Just my luck.” He gives me a wink and then he’s back to the kitchen.

  I smash my face on the table, hoping it leaves a mark.

  “All alone?” The sound of the voice and the sudden rush of happy makes me look up.

  “Not anymore,” I say as Viktor sits down in the seat next to me, instead of the one across from me,
and puts his arm around the back of my chair.

  “How did the hunting go? Where are the kids?” I’ve taken to calling them that in my mind for some reason. Like we’re all parents to them.

  “Only one fatality.”

  “Good. How was Cobes?”

  “Fine. No killing.” Phew. I was worried about that. I thought that maybe the other kids would be a bad influence on him.

  “Good.” I finish the last onion ring on my plate and look around for the waitress, but then I meet the eyes of the busboy who gives me a nod.

  “I see you made a friend while I was gone,” Viktor says, but he’s not jealous. At least I don’t think he is. I test the link between us, but get nothing in the way of the green monster. In fact, I get nothing, period.

  He’s blocking me. He hasn’t blocked me in ages. Not since he said he loved me. Why is he blocking me?

  “Just a human. He’s got nothing on you. I bet he doesn’t even speak Russian. The loser.” I tilt my face and he gives me a sweet, soft kiss. “You hungry?”

  “Mm, not right now.” I stare at him, but he just acts completely normal.

  “I feel bad for you. It’s like you’re on a diet and you’re out at a buffet and can’t eat any of it and then you come home to celery. Again. Aren’t you getting sick of celery?”

  Most of the time he can follow where my head goes, but this time I think he gets a little lost on the way.

  “You’re equating yourself to celery?”

  “Uh, yeah. Just for the purposes of that illustration. There’s really nothing celery about me.” I’m not skinny, for one thing and I don’t have green eyes.

  “You. Are. Not. Celery,” he says, dragging his hand up the inside of my thigh under the table and dipping it under my skirt so I have to bite my lip to not moan and disturb the entire restaurant. Yeah, good distraction, Viktor. I’m not thinking about the blocking now.

  “You don’t feel like celery. You don’t smell like it, and you don’t taste like it. Not even close.”

  “Oh, well, good to know.” My voice comes out both breathy and squeaky at the same time.

  “How about we get you somewhere that I can show you how not celery you are?” His mouth dips to my ear and he licks my earlobe. Jesus Christ on a bicycle.

  “That sounds . . . good.” I sound as if I’m not sure, but it’s only because words are hard to form at the moment, between his tongue and hand working me like putty.

  “I just need to . . .” Oh what is the word for giving money to a restaurant in exchange for food? “Pay. I need to pay.” With that the waitress decides to reappear and clear her throat. Viktor stops the assault on my ear and moves his hand out from under my skirt.

  “Here’s your check,” she says, shoving it me without looking at my face. She’s busy angling her body so her boobs and ass curve perfectly, but Viktor is too busy playing with my hair to notice.

  Ha.

  “Thanks. Everything was great,” I say, hoping she’ll get the hint as I lean in closer to Viktor.

  “Jealous much?” he says so quietly that the waitress can’t possibly hear. Oh, he hasn’t seen Jealous Tex yet. She hasn’t had to come out, but if this girl keeps looking at him like he’s the last piece of bacon on the plate, she might have to come and declare her territory. Ugh, girls can be the worst sometimes.

  I give the waitress a look and she finally leaves with a seductive (not directed toward me), “You have a good night.”

  As soon as she’s gone, I roll my eyes at Viktor.

  “I think she was ready to devour you.” I get out some cash and leave her a generous tip, even though I really want to leave her nothing. It’s a sarcastic tip.

  “I’m ready to devour you,” he says, sweeping me off my feet and carrying me out of the restaurant to various cheers and exclamations from the other patrons.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I say when he sets me down outside.

  “I wanted to.” And then he kisses me and I forget all about the waitress and the busboy and everything else and it’s just his lips and mine and his hands and my body and ooohhhh, yeah.

  Viktor

  We had just finished hunting and the others were giddy when a familiar voice interrupted my thoughts.

  “The police are on their way.” I turn to find Helena and Di standing on the top of an abandoned building nearby and staring down at our little group.

  “You might want to get out of the area,” Helena says with a bright smile, as if we’re old friends. She holds Di’s hand, but they don’t move.

  “Looks like you’ve got yourself a little family,” says Di.

  “Who are you?” Coby says. He is unfamiliar with mine and Peter’s history with Di. Tex didn’t want him to know, so we didn’t tell him.

  “I’m your grandmother. Of a sort. Unless Ava or Brooke changed you. Then I am your great grandmother.” She turns her head to the side and smiles again. Di can’t take her eyes off my face.

  “I didn’t want to come,” she finally says. “I’m sorry.”

  “My grandmother?” Coby turns to me and the others just watch as if this is a television program that is very entertaining.

  Reality television at its best.

  “She changed me, I changed you.” I point to Di, who still won’t stop looking at me.

  “It’s, um, looking like you might need a few extra hands. So, we have come to extend the olive branch and offer our . . . babysitting services, for lack of a better term.”

  For a moment, I don’t know what to say. This is . . . unexpected. And not for me to decide.

  “You don’t have to answer right now, but we just thought we would off. Right, my love?”

  “We shouldn’t have come,” Di says, finally turning to Helena. “I told you I didn’t want to come.”

  Di never took no for an answer, but it seems as if Helena has taken her place.

  “It is not up to me. It is not my house, and you and I have no ties anymore.”

  “So how about we come by later?” The sirens wail and Seth looks behind us nervously.

  “We’ll take care of it. Go ahead,” Helena says. I don’t know what else to do, so I jerk my head at the other three and go to get Tex at the restaurant.

  ~^*^~

  I don’t tell Tex about Helena and Di at the restaurant, and I know she knows I’m hiding something from her on the way back. The other three are silent because I told them to keep it to themselves. I’d thought Torie would tell me to go fuck myself, but she said she didn’t care.

  We’re nearly back to the house when she finally confronts me.

  “So, you going to tell me what’s up? Because you’ve been blocking me and as much as I would love to ignore it and just pretend it didn’t happen and have awesome sex with you, I need to know what’s up.”

  It’s times like these when I wish I could take a deep breath.

  “Helena and Di found us. They offered to help us with our . . . situation.”

  She looks up at me, eyes wide behind her glasses. “You’re shitting me.”

  “No, I am not. They are coming by later to speak with everyone.”

  “They’re coming. Here.”

  “Yes.” She shakes her head.

  “If I wouldn’t break my hand by smacking you in the chest, I would smack you in the chest right now. Ugh, why can’t we get rid of them!”

  “I’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

  Ava

  It’s actually good that I’m so in tune with the human body, because I’ll have an indicator before Dad passes out, or has some other medical emergency in relation to my revelation.

  “You’re . . . dead? How are you still talking to me?”

  “That’s part of the mystery of it. We don’t really know how it works, except that it does and Peter is living, I mean, proof of it. I’ve met others like him. There are quite a few of them all around the world. The origin story is a little fuzzy, but let’s just say that it’s magic.” That makes me think of M
om and how she wanted to believe in magic before we lost her.

  “Magic?” Dad says the word as if it’s the first time it’s ever come from his mouth. It might actually be.

  “Yeah. Magic.”

  “This is . . . unbelievable.” He finally gets up and starts walking to the kitchen. Shit, I should have gotten him a glass of water. How Could I have forgotten the water? Mom always had water ready in a situation like this. He goes to the sink and gulps a glass down and then drops the glass in the sink, where it shatters. He swears and then it hits me.

  He’s bleeding. I’d told him about the blood part, but I didn’t go into great detail.

  “Peter,” I say, and he clamps his arms around me.

  “Cut myself,” Dad mumbles, running his hand under the water as I try to smell anything else in the house. The couch, the wood of the furniture, the floor, the toilet. Anything else.

  “You can do it. Resist. You don’t need it. It is just a smell. Acknowledge it and let it go.” Peter’s voice soothes me, but the blood smell is almost impossible to ignore. I want it. So. Bad.

  And just when I think I can’t take it anymore, the smell fades a bit. Washed down the drain with the water. Dad’s blood does its job and starts clotting and he goes to the bathroom for a Band-Aid. I remember doing that myself when I cut my finger on purpose to feed Peter. That feels like lifetimes ago.

  Dad comes back and I have to push myself against Peter.

  “Dad you need to stay inside the house for a little while, okay?”

  “Ava? What’s wrong?”

  “Just stay in here. I need to go outside. I’ll be back in a few minutes, and then I’ll explain, okay?” I don’t even look at him as Peter carries me out the front door. As soon as I’m outside, the air wipes the smell from my nose and I feel like I can relax.

  “That was close.” Peter still holds me, but I motion with one of my hands that I’m okay, so he lets me go.

  “But you got through it. You did it. Now do you understand why I have so much faith in you?” He growls a little in frustration and grabs my face and kisses me, as if to put an exclamation point on what he’s just said.