“Luv ya!” She does a little twirl before skipping away to her car. She is so strange. But then, so am I.
~^*^~
“What's up, baby?” Mom says as I sit down at the kitchen table after school. I think about telling her everything is fine, but I just don't have the energy for it.
“Everything.”
“You okay?”
“Meh.”
She hands me a plate of cake. I could smell it the second I got out of the car, and my mouth has been watering ever since. There's also another smell that I can't put my finger on that makes my stomach growl. I wander around the kitchen, searching for it.
“Do you want some dinner? I'm making fettuccine alfredo.” She sings the last few words, putting an arm around my shoulder. I take a few more bites of cake. It doesn't taste as good as I thought it would.
“Maybe.” The thought of the creamy sauce sends my stomach into a nosedive. I shove the rest of the cake away. I hope it doesn't hurt her feelings.
“I've having the girls over next weekend. I already called June and Helen. I just have to get in touch with Mae and Liz.”
“Are you sure, sure?”
“Yes.” She stirs the pasta with certainty. I really don't know if this is a good idea, but I'm going to keep my trap shut. They're her friends.
“Ava,” Dad calls from his office. Oh, I so do not need this.
“Yeah?”
“Can you come in here, please?” He seems fully recovered from his little breakdown and is back to his irritating ways.
“Sure.” I give my mother a look and she wrinkles her nose at me. Normally, that would make me smile. I give it a good effort before I walk down the hall.
“Close the door,” he says, looking up from the computer. He's been trying to do more and more work from home, but he just seems to do more work, period. When he was going to work every day, he would come home and be done. Now he can access it all the time, so he does.
“We've talked about you upsetting your mother.”
“What am I supposed to say? I had a shitty day.” It wasn't exactly that bad, but I'm not in the mood for him to be like this. Also, I'm really distracted. That smell is much stronger. It doesn't smell like any food I've ever had, but I want to eat it, whatever it is.
“Ava, don't use that language.”
“Why? Because it might upset her? Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Oh look, the house hasn't fallen down.” My filter is gone, gone, gone.
“Ava Sullivan.” He stands up. What, does he think he's going to intimidate me? “I will not have you speak that way to me in this house.” A wave of the smell cascades over me and I glance around the room. Maybe he's hiding something in here.
“I won't have you tell me what to talk to my own mother about. I had a bad day. I'm not going to go around smiling like some psycho so you can act like things are fine. They're not. Not even you can pretend they're fine, remember?” I hate throwing that in his face, but I can't stop myself.
“That's it. You're grounded.” He stands right in front of me. The smell gets stronger. It's coming from him. I want to get closer, but there's no way I'm going to do it.
“Oh, really?”
“Go to your room.” He points out the door, as if he expects me to march right off.
“No.”
“Go to your room.”
“No.”
“Go. To. Your. Room.” He gets right in my face, every word seething with anger. It doesn't scare me. The scent has kind of taken over my brain. I want it so much my stomach starts making noises.
“The only place I'm going is the kitchen to talk to my mother. I'm not five anymore, Dad. You can't make me do what you want me to by threatening to take away my toys.” With that I turn around and walk out, closing the door softly behind me. I can't slam it or my mother would get suspicions. As soon as I shut it, the smell lessens and I can think clearly. I swallow the excess saliva my mouth produced and try to calm down.
“What was that about?”
“Nothing,” I say with a smile, hoping she'll think that we're planning some surprise for her.
“Oh really?” She smiles back. Mission accomplished.
I dash to my room and shut the door, breathing like I've run miles. I have an idea what the smell is, but I don't want to think about it, because then it would be real, and I would know it was real and it can't be. I can't want to... No. I'm not thinking of it.
It is always darkest before the dawn. The quote of my mom's echoes in my head. Things are about to get a whole lot darker, I can feel it.
Thirty
“I just don't know what to do.” It's the middle of the night and I'm in the cemetery with Peter. It's been getting worse being away from him. Pretty soon I'll have to walk around holding his hand like he's some ratty security blanket that I can't go anywhere without.
“Calm down.”
Oh, he can stay calm. I'm busy pacing in front of the mausoleum and nibbling my nails.
“I can't calm down. You're sure I'm not turning into a noctalis? Because I think...” I can't finish. I can't tell him that I think I'm smelling blood and I picture killing people when I'm mad.
“It would require a much greater exchange of blood. It is not possible.”
“Well, Jesus, Peter, you're a vampire with wings. Anything's possible.” I'm being mean to him, but I don't have anyone else to unleash my freak out on, so he gets the brunt of it.
“Ava.”
His voice makes me stop pacing.
“What?”
“It will be fine.” His cool voice normally soothes me, but I'm too worked up.
“How do you know?”
“I do.”
“How can you be so sure of things?”
“I am sure of you.”
We lock eyes and I let him do that thing that pulls me in. I lose myself for a moment, but he yanks the contact, eyes going toward the woods. My hearing may not be as good as his, but I hear someone coming. A noctalis someone.
“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?” Ivan asks.
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 once upon a time, but I keep my mouth shut and try to look disinterested, when I am the opposite. I hate that Peter keeps 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 to 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 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 Ivan. He 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,” a new voice says.
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 lungs and I lie 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-blond 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. At some point Viktor must have arrived, but he was so quiet that I hadn’t heard him.
“What have we here?” She turns to face us, still holding Ivan down with 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 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, 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.
“Mother, you are interrupting.” Ivan is remarkably calm now, as if there isn't a woman sitting on his chest.
“Am I?” She acts like she's committed a faux pas. “So sorry, Ivan, darling. I just thought I would come and see you. See all my boys again. It's been so long.” She may be pretty, but there is steel behind those words. They could cut deeply. She freaks me out, almost more than Ivan. That's saying something.
“What are you doing here?” This time it's Ivan asking. I feel like that's all anyone says.
“I told you. I came for a visit. To see how you are.”
“We are in the middle of something,” Ivan says.
“I can see that.” She looks at me like she is both disgusted and afraid at the same time. “Peter, dear? Could you explain your relationship with this?” Her hand waves to indicate me. I'm the 'this.'
She stares hard at him, like she's trying to probe through his thoughts via his eyes and root out all his secrets.
“What is your role in this, Viktor, sweetheart?” Apparently everyone gets an endearment after their name. It's very old fashioned. I wonder just how old she is. Peter never told me.
“I am here,” Viktor says.
“Yes, I can see that.” They share another silent communiqué. I'm seriously starting to think they can read each other's minds.
“Ah, loyalty. Such a valuable commodity.” She looks down at Ivan and strokes his face with one finger. He looks like he wants to bite it off.
“Viktor, sweetheart, what did you promise me, when I made you?”
“That I would always be there when you called.” He recites it like a prayer he memorized in Sunday school. I'm still trying to catch up.
“Ivan, darling, what did you promise me?”
“That I would never leave you.” There's so much venom in his words, I'd be afraid to be near him.
“Peter, dear, what did you promise me?”
“That I would never love anyone as much as I loved you," he says quietly. I feel his despair as well as my own.
“That's right, which is why you have to kill her. You must keep your promise, Peter, dear.”
“I know.” He turns toward me and I plead with him in my head. I can't speak. After all we've been through, the Claiming and that kiss we shared... This can't be it.
“Ava.”
“Please,” I whisper.
I close my eyes.
Thirty-One
The pain doesn't come. I wait, but nothing happens. I squint my eyes to find a pretty frigged-up scene. It must have taken less than five seconds, but when I do a quick survey, everything's changed.
Peter and Viktor are on the ground, only this time Di is under them. It takes one of them on each arm to hold her down. Ivan stands next to them, hissing through his teeth. The sound makes every hair on my body stand on end. Di hisses back, and I want to cover my ears so it will stop.
“What are you doing to me? You promised. All of you.” She glares at each of them, but they don't move.
“You took advantage,” Viktor says. “You tricked us, took our souls and then our freedom.”
“I made you what you are. Without me, you w
ould have died,” she says.
“Then so be it. The past cannot be changed,” Viktor responds.
She smiles. “Exactly.”
Everyone seems to have forgotten me, even Peter. Then I feel a tug in my mind and I know he hasn't. Even without his eyes on me, I can feel that same pull toward him.
“Now you are going to make a promise.” Peter finally speaks. I want to get up and run to him, but I'm not getting close to her. She wants to kill me.
“Never,” she hisses.
“You will make a binding promise or I will break mine.”
“As will I,” Viktor says.
Di thrashes against them. I've seen videos of alligator wrestling on cable. This is kind of like that, only the alligator is a petite woman in a pretty dress.
“You can't.” She laughs, but she doesn't sound sure. The sound grates on my ears like broken glass.
“We will,” Viktor says.
Her eyes ping-pong, looking for lies. I can picture Peter's unblinking eyes. I don't know Viktor well enough to know what he looks like when he's telling the truth or a lie. I'm sure she can.
“You wouldn't dare," she says, glaring at each of them in turn. “Ivan, help please.”
Seems like now they've got a common enemy, they're working like brothers. Guess Ivan hates Di more than he hates Peter. Interesting.
Ivan takes Peter's place and Di makes a break for it, but they're too strong. Ivan punches her in the face and she hisses again. Not that I'm cool with men hitting women, but I'm kind of glad he did. I'm not sure she counts as a typical woman, seeing as how it takes two of them to hold her down.
Peter walks over to me. I'm still on the ground, not having been able to get up yet. My mouth is dry and gritty from dirt. I'm sure most of my exposed skin was scraped off when Peter landed on me. I'm in such a daze that I'm not feeling it. Yet.
“Here,” he says, taking my arm and helping me up. My legs wobble and he clutches me. I am once again grateful for his solidness. Once I think I can stay upright, I look up at him. Even though it's dark, I can see the white of his teeth. He's smiling.
“Why are you smiling?”
“You.”
Everything around us gets a little hazy, and all I can see is his face. Finally, I reach up and push his hair out of his eyes.