Nightmare (The Noctalis Chronicles 2)

“I needed that. I shouldn't need reminding, but I do. I need reminding of why we're doing this and what we stand to lose.”

“I will always remind you, my Ava-Claire.” She presses her forehead to mine. Her skin is hot, as if she has a fever.

“Good.” Her hands drift to mine and she takes both of them as she walks backward to the bed.

“Come here,” she says again. “I don't want to sleep alone. I've gotten used to having you here.”

“I know.” I have gotten used to being here. I see my existence as two parts. Before Ava. After Ava. Darkness to light. If only I could keep that light burning. Like a lighthouse before electricity, I will have to keep the lantern we have lit burning. It will take both of us. I only hope we are strong enough. That I am strong enough.

Ava

Sleeping with Peter is amazing. Not that he's super cuddly, but I feel all my muscles release when I know he's next to me. I still have bad dreams. The burning one hasn't left me alone for more than a few nights. Still, a little sleep is better than none.

I wake to him brushing my shoulder.

As I freeze my ass off in Peter's arms, I can't figure out Peter's plan. In my opinion, we're walking into a snake pit. I don't trust this guy further than I can throw him. Which is not at all. Not even after the whole Cal-saved-me story he'd told me. The bottom line was that I trusted Peter. And I knew he wouldn't hurt me. So I go along to get along.

When we finally land, I try to fight the creepy feeling that wraps around me like smoke. I can't put my finger on it. Maybe it was the lawn gnomes. Those things have always done it to me. Back when Mom would take me trick-or-treating, I would never go to a house that had them on the lawn. I'd have nightmares that they would pull their little feet out of the ground and come and kill me in my sleep. My thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of Tex and Viktor.

“God, those things give me the creeps,” Tex says as Viktor sets her on her feet.

“My feelings exactly,” I say.

She squints at the house. It has a sinister feel, even though there are lights on inside. “So who is this guy? Some sort of vampire suburbanite?”

“Noctalis,” I say.

“Whatever.” Her expression, looking at the house, and mine from the first time, were probably identical.

“I just can't picture one of you,” she points to Viktor and Peter, “living in such a... house.” There really isn't a better term for it. Basically, it was the Better Homes and Gardens version of the most average house in America. Plus the gnomes.

“Cal is different.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Just as we're all staring up at the house, the door opens. Kinda like last time. The light floods from the inside, haloing Cal.

“Hello again. I see you've brought more visitors.” His voice needs no amplification to carry across the lawn.

“Cal.”

“Peter. Viktor. And Ava. It is nice to see you again. Who have you brought with you?”

“This is Tex.” Viktor makes the introduction. I'm guessing it has to do with part of the hierarchy. The hierarchy that Peter has never told me about and pretends doesn't exist.

“Tex. What interesting names they have now.”

“Yeah, it's great.” I shoot Tex a look. Please don't poke the tiger. I wonder if Viktor gave her any parameters to follow.

“Won't you please come in? I am sorry I am not able to offer you refreshment.” I'm sure the house has a fridge, but I really don't want to know what's in it. Really don't. It takes forever and no time at all for us to get up the steps and into the house. I'd forgotten how clean it was. How sterile and gray and taupe. At least he's more hospitable this time. I'm not sure that's a good omen.

“That is fine.”

Cal pauses while he leads us to the living room. The first time we'd stood in the doorway and talked. He gestures for us to sit on the leather couches. Of course they make that horrible squelchy almost-fart sound when we sit down. At least when Tex and I do. Being a noctalis apparently gives you the superpower of being able to silently sit on a leather couch. Something else to look forward to. Cal picks up a glass paperweight. Who even has those in their house?

“I have information. But it is not here. We well have to go get it,” he says without further ado.

“I cannot leave my Claimed,” Peter says. Great, now I don't have a name.

He tosses the paperweight into the air and catches it before I can blink. “Then we have no deal.” Seriously? This was the guy who had saved Peter? What the hell? I have to say something. I can't keep my mouth shut any longer.

“Are you kidding?” Cal studies me like the paperweight before he answers. I want to slap that look off his face. No matter what Peter said about him, there was something wrong with this guy.

“He has told you about his past. I can see that. But you cannot comprehend. You have not the brain for it.” Great, now he's saying I'm stupid. Nice. Real nice.

“I could say that you don't know anything about love. About love that transcends everything. Mortality. Good sense. Logic. But I know about it.”

“You think you do.” Shut up. Just shut up. Where had the benevolent friend who had saved Peter from the depths of despair gone?

“Peter. If you wish to learn the information you seek, we must leave now.” I wait for Peter to say no. I wait for him to squeeze my hand or blink or something or anything. I wait for him to tell Cal to go to hell.

“I will do it.”

“What?!” I rip my hand out of his and stand. I can't sit when he says something like that. “Do you not remember what happened last time? And it's worse now. I freak out every time you leave the room!” I throw up my hands, begging the heavens for help. I hadn't told him the last part. And I didn't mean to tell Cal. I wasn't really good at the card-hiding thing. This was probably why he didn't tell me the plan.

“We will do what we have to do. It may be uncomfortable, but it is necessary.” His voice is cold again. Trying to show Cal that he didn't care about me. At least he isn't blocking me this time.

I feel something insistently tugging at our connection. My immediate reaction was to slap him for being such a jerk, but I hold off. He's playing a game that I don't know the rules to. I will just have to follow his lead.

Another insistent tug tells me what to do.

“If you're going to be an ass**le, fine. Go. See if I care.” It takes the force of my will to turn my back on him and cross my arms. I send him a sharp jab, telling him that I received the message, and I will play along. It's insane how implicitly I trust him. I'm not sure if that's part of the Claiming, or if it's just because I love him. At this point, it's impossible to untangle my personal feelings from the Claim. Not that I would want to. I love belonging to him. I love that he belongs to me. That he needs me. That I can give him something no one else can. That he shares parts of his past with me. I love him so much it hurts.