But Tex. She is so purely human. I listen to the rise and fall of her chest, thinking what a lovely sound it is and how I would miss it. I feel strongly for her. Tex is the type of person who brings out those strong emotions. Love and hate. You either go one way or the other. I’m leaning toward the former, but I don’t think she knows that yet. I tend to block our connection, something I’d recently learned how to do when I started feeling to strongly about her. It’s too soon for us. And I still . . . Adele . . .
The answer to her question is that yes, I would change her, but she isn’t ready. I have talked with Peter about this, and he deems Ava ready to change. I do not think you are ever ready for this, to take this path in life. Not everyone who changes manages to thrive as a noctalis. I’ve had several periods where I completely shut down my human side and became purely noctalis.
Savage. Tex would be afraid of that part of me. The dark part. The part that wants to rip her throat out and drain every last ounce of blood from her delicate veins.
Peter has told me that in the beginning Ava had been afraid of him, as most humans are. But when I look in Tex’s eyes, I never see fear. Only adoration. Love. Joy. At least when her eyes don’t flash with irritation as they so often do. I enjoy that as well.
But never fear. I never see that. She should be afraid of me. Shouldn’t trust me. None of us is trustworthy around humans.
We are like tigers that people keep for pets. Even raised by hand, they are wild animals and will attack the people who care about them most. They can turn at any moment.
So can we.
But for now, I watch her breathe and marvel at the miracle that is the living human. Who knows how long I will get to enjoy it?
Four
Ava
“I’m going Dad!” I call out as I sling my gigantic bag over my shoulder. Honestly, I didn’t even need Tex as an alibi for Dad. Aj was the one who’ll be suspicious.
I wait a second, but don’t hear anything. I poke my head out the door and find him sitting in mom’s favorite gardening chair, staring at the tulips that are now in full bloom. Aj is beside him on her knees, pulling weeds and chattering away.
“I’m headed out to Tex’s,” I say, and Dad doesn’t look up. This is the last time he’ll see me as human and a bolt of pain and regret goes through me. I’m freaking out.
“Have fun!” Aj says, dusting her hands off on her jeans and coming to give me a hug. I’m assaulted with the smell of her blood, but as of right this moment, I’m still mortal, and won’t drink it. I hug her hard and give her a smile.
“Sam?” Aj says, touching his shoulder. He’s in one of his trances again. I’m pretty sure he’s on some heavy medication that they don’t want me to know about. There are a lot of things that happen that my parents, I mean, Dad and Aj, don’t want me to know about. They’re still trying to let me be young, be a kid, but that ship sailed a long time ago. I grew up whether they wanted me to or not.
Losing a parent will do that to you.
“I’ll see you on Monday, okay Dad? I love you.” I almost never said it to him before losing mom, but I try to say it as much as I can now. Just in case something should happen, I will never regret not saying it.
I lean down and put my arms around him. It takes a second, but his go around me and he breathes into my hair. I hug him just as hard as Aj, and when I let go, I look into his empty eyes. He’s looking even thinner now. I share a look with Aj.
“I’ve got this. You have fun, girlfriend.”
Well, fun isn’t exactly on the menu. Except for maybe the time I’m going to share with Peter. That could be fun-ish. Or maybe not.
I’m freaking out a little more.
“I will. See you on Monday. I’ve got my phone on, so call if you need anything.” Guilt shoots through me like a million poison-tipped arrows, and I pause for a second and think about calling the whole thing off.
But then Aj makes a shooing motion with her hands, telling me to go, and somehow I unstick my feet from the ground and walk away from Dad and Aj.
I wave as I get into Mom’s Jetta. It’s much nicer than my car, and it’s another thing that reminds me of her. I feel safe in this car, as if nothing bad could happen to me while I’m in it. Like she’s still here with me.
I do feel that way. That she’s just around the corner, watching me.
Peter
I wait for Ava at the end of her driveway, as usual. But this time, I have something for her. A present that jingles in the pocket of the pants that she bought me at the thrift store. I also have a change of clothes and other supplies already at the church.
She smiles nervously when she sees me, her green eyes seeming extra large today. The sky is overcast and the air is cool and damp, as if it’s about to rain. Clouds would be good. It is very difficult to block out all sunlight from a building.
“Hey baby,” she says, giving me a kiss as I get in. “Are you ready?” Her nerves tingle and shake along our connection. She is smiling, but I can tell it is a front. I am not sure if she is more nervous about the transformation or being intimate with me. I am afraid of both.
“Hello, my Ava-Claire.” Using her full name makes her smile wider as I buckle my seatbelt. It is a silly thing for me to do, but it makes her feel more secure.
She rolls down the windows and let’s her hair blow in the breeze. Savoring it.
“Have you done everything you wanted to do?” I ask, just to make sure.
“I think so,” she says. “I brought one of mom’s letters with me to read, before.”
Before. That’s how we refer to things now. Before and After. There are a lot of Befores and Afters in Ava’s life. Before her mother died. After. Before me . . .
I only wish there will be no After when it comes to me.
“I have something for you,” I say as we drive toward the church. Well, I have two somethings. The first is in my pocket, and the second will be waiting for her at the church.
“Okay, should I be worried?” she says with a smile that wavers a bit on her face.
“You might want to pull over.” She does and stops the car with a sharp intake of breath as I reach into my pocket. Somehow Viktor was able to do this entirely online and in a matter of days. His charm extends even to real estate transactions.
“You’re scaring me, Peter. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to back out.” She says it with a light laugh, but she really is concerned.
“No, I am not backing out. I just got you a present, that’s all. You will need to thank Viktor as well. He orchestrated most of it,” I say as I pull out the set of keys Viktor had somehow gotten overnight.
“Keys?” Her hand reaches out to take them, turning them over as if they will suddenly start speaking and tell her what they belong to.
“What are they for?” She finally asks.
“Your mother’s house. The one up north. I had Viktor help me buy it for you. I thought we might need a safe place to go in case . . . in case.” In case she decided to feed on the entire town of Sussex, which was a possibility. If need be, I’d take her to the house and lock her in it until she could learn to control herself. It was a toss up as to whether that would be necessary. I knew from my own transformation how violent those first urges could be.
Ava stared at the key as if it was the most precious jewel. Even more precious than when I’d shown her the things in my trunk.
“Oh, Peter. You didn’t have to do that.”
“No, I did not. But I wanted to. For you. So you would always have a piece of your past to come home to. For us to come home to. You are my home.”
The tears drip from her eyes, but she doesn’t brush them away. I take them onto my fingers and suck the salty liquid. She wouldn’t have tears very soon. These are the last, so I have to savor them.
“You’re wonderful, you know that?” She finally looks up at me, smiling through her tears.
She is the wonderful one. I press my head to hers and feel her love surro
und us. I will miss that.
“Oh gosh, I’m a complete mess,” she says, finally wiping her face. Her nose is stuffed up so I grab a tissue from the glove box and hand it to her.
“Won’t have to do this for much longer,” she says after she blows her nose and tosses the tissue in the bag she keeps in the back for trash. Ava’s car is not very clean, but she is keeping her mother’s immaculate.
I don’t need to tell her that she’s lovely, but I do anyway, earning a blush.
Last blush? Perhaps not, considering what we are about to do . . .
Five
Ava
It takes what feels like hours one moment and seconds the next. Time seems to be moving oddly for me, and I realize that time will cease to be a concern in a few short days. Strange, to think of it that way.
When we pull up in front of the abandoned church, it’s drizzling outside and there are two people waiting beside a newly-painted black truck.
“James! What are you doing here?” Not that I’m not thrilled to see him, but I really, really, don’t want to talk about what’s going to happen before I change, and I’m sure it’s written all over my face. I know, without a doubt, that he’ll try to talk me out of it, and I’m nervous enough as it is.
Not nervous about my decisions, nervous about the after. About who I will become. Ava-Claire Sullivan will be someone new. Someone who will never die. She also won’t be a virgin, but that’s a little less important than the mortality.
“I just came to . . . see you off into your immortality. See you one last time.” He says it the whole time with his hands in his pockets, Brooke standing next to him, but with plenty of space in between them. Hm. I’m pretty sure they weren’t like that a few minutes ago, judging by Jamie’s mussed hair and Brooke’s smeared lip gloss. Very smooth, James.
“Aw, you didn’t have to do that.” He holds his arms out for a hug and I step away from Peter and toward Jamie.
“Yeah, Ave, I did.” He pulls me off my feet and twirls me around, and I start laughing because I can’t help it. “I’m going to miss this. I’m going to miss you.”
“Why? I’m not going anywhere,” I say when he sets me down. “I’ll just be a little . . . different.”
“A little less mortal,” he says, and his eyes tighten a little. “I’ll love you anyway.” A pang goes through my heart, and I throw myself on him again.
“I love you. So much. Thank you for always being my rock.”
“Thanks for being mine.”
We let go again and he reaches for Brooke’s hand. I’m a little surprised she’s let me be all over Jamie and doesn’t seem jealous, but maybe she’s really good at pretending she’s not jealous, or perhaps she knows there’s absolutely nothing romantic between us. I hope that’s a thing I’ll be able to master.
“We’ll see you on the other side,” she says, giving me a little hug. She’s so strong that it kind of hurts. They walk back to Jamie’s truck, hand-in-hand. I wave as they pull out and then I’m drowning in silence with Peter.
Am I really going to do this?
~^*^~
Peter takes my hand and leads me into the church and then boards up the door behind us, making sure every crack and cranny where light could get through is blocked. It’s chilly in here and I rub my arms on myself.
Peter goes around the room to light candles, what turns out to be hundreds of them, because all the natural light is gone.
The old mattress has been replaced by a beautiful wooden bed covered in light blue sheets that smell brand new.
“How in the hell did you get a bed in here?” I also see rose petals on it, which should be totally cheesy, but somehow isn’t. There are other things here too. A basket with what looks like a bottle of wine in it. My last drink. I can also smell food. Grilled cheese sandwiches and cheesecake from Miller’s.
He still hasn’t answered my question about the bed, so I watch as he finishes lighting the candles and then turns to me, glowing under the soft light.
“I wanted it to be special for you.”
“Thank you. It will be special, because it’s you,” I say, walking slowly toward him and putting my head into his chest, right where it fits the best. He puts his chin on top of my head and I can feel him reaching out to me through our connection, showing me his desire in one way.
I can also feel it, physically as well.
That’s new.
Peter
I have never . . . let myself go like this with her, although, I have nearly lost control so many times.
“It is all for you, my Ava-Claire. Everything you want.”
“I want you,” she says, and starts to take off my shirt. It is time to let go.
Let go with my girl.
Ava
I’m shocked at how easy it is, to start kissing him and taking his clothes off. I thought I would be nervous. Nervous about my body, what he would think of it, nervous about doing something wrong or gross or weird.
But the way he looks at me in the dim light of the hundreds of little flames, and the passion he sends me tell me that he adores me, all of me.
I swear he gasps when I remove my shirt and I’m only wearing a green lace bra underneath. I know how much he likes green on me, and it came with a matching pair of panties, so I couldn’t resist them.
His hands are greedy, trying to gobble up every inch of skin they can, as if he must touch all of me at once, or die. Well, that made two of us. I’d discarded his shirt as quick as possible so I could run my hands over him.
I almost ask him what it feels like, but I’m too preoccupied with his tongue in my mouth as it tries to devour me. We hadn’t talked about biting, or blood, and a very small part of me was worried he’d want to make that a part of this, but once his hands start moving around the back of my bra to unclasp it, I forget all my fears and worries and let my body take over.
Apparently, it knows what to do.
We’re on the bed, the petals sticking to my now-heated skin, and I’m topless for the first time, with the person I love more than I’ve ever loved anything.
Peter kisses his way from my mouth, down my neck and pauses before kissing the top of one of my breasts. Just that one kiss alone makes me ache and moan and cry out for him.
Just that.
I’m so wound up after weeks of saying no, weeks of holding back, that just a simple touch nearly sends me over the edge.
He moves his head and I take that as my chance to kiss him in the same place and I hear a low, deep sound that is akin to a growl emerge from his lips. I like that sound. I want to make it happen again.
So I do.
And then he pushes me back on the bed, and kisses me harder, deeper, longer. Oh, I don’t know how much more I could take and we’ve barely started.
Peter presses me down into the mattress and soon we’ve disposed of the rest of our clothing. I’m not sure how it happens, but I did hear a rip at some point. So much for the pretty lace panties.
I hadn’t planned on having the sex right off the bat, but we’ve started and there will be no stopping. Green light all the way. Besides, I’ve always heard and read that food was best after sex. Now I’d get to test that out.
Peter starts moving faster, his hands and lips and body a bundle of hard and frenetic energy that I’m trying to keep up with as he ravages me with hands and lips and grinds his hips where I want him most.
Jesus, if this is the foreplay, what will the actual thing be like?
“I love you,” he starts saying between kisses. He pours his pain and rage and love and desire all into this, this moment between us.
I’m on fire. The dream had been prophetical, only I was the one burning, not him.
I cry out and he growls and then with one sharp and earth-shattering thrust, he’s inside me and I scream from the pain and shock of it. At the sound of my scream, he freezes.
“I am so sorry, my Ava. I do not think I can do this—” I breathe deep and try to master the pain. He’s st
ill inside me, and I can feel my body trying to adjust to him being there. I’ll adjust if it kills me, because there’s no way we’re stopping now.
“No. Stopping,” I say. “I want this. Just give me a second.” He waits, just as still as ever as the pain starts to dissipate and I think I’m ready.
“Peter, this was going to hurt if you were human or not. Now the only thing that is going to hurt me is if you don’t kiss me. Kiss me, please?”
He slowly brings his face down to mine and I seize my moment and thrust my hips upward. He growls again and that’s all it takes.
The pain and pleasure are bright and jagged, melding into one another and I can’t tell where one begins and the other ends. I can’t tell where I begin and Peter ends. At some point, his wings burst from his back and I realize I’m making love to an angel. My dark angel.
Pain and pleasure. Me and him. Life and death.
I’m lost in wave upon wave of it, crashing over my head and threatening to drown me. The only thing keeping me above water is Peter’s mouth and his words.
“I love you, I love you, I love you.”
Six
Tex
Viktor and I have to work on the day of Ava’s transformation, and I’m distracted. Not on my game. Luckily, Viktor helps pick up the slack so my mom doesn’t yell at me too much.
Surly Coby is here too, being all . . . surly. Mom’s decided that the best use of his time isn’t sitting in his room and drawing, or playing video games or whatever else he’s doing in there (probably masturbating), but to start learning the family business so he can start being just as miserable as everyone else who has a job.
That’s not true. I like books. I just kind of hate people. And customer service is the suckiest job on the planet. If I could work in a job where I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone (except Viktor, of course) all day and just be surrounded by books, that would be the best thing ever, which is why I want to work curating a historical book collection for a big library. Maybe even the Bodleian in England. Now that would be something.