Nocturnal (The Noctalis Chronicles 1)

“Night, Tex.” I close the door and realize I'm the only one awake in the dark and empty house. My original plan was to sleep in the guest room, but that doesn't seem like such a smart idea now. Given what had happened to me tonight, I'm not going to sleep alone.

Before crawling into bed with Tex, I turn on all the lights and relock all the doors and windows. I also wipe myself down with some paper towels to get off some of the glitter, and peel off my dress.

Between Tex being a horrible bed hog, and my terror of every creak and sound from the house, I don't get much sleep. I wake even earlier than I would on a weekday. Tex is still passed out, so I go to the kitchen to eat something. I make scrambled eggs and by the time Tex comes downstairs, I have a full plate.

“Good morning, sunshine,” I say, beaming at her.

“Not so loud.” She holds her head in both hands as if it's going to fall off. There's a lot of glitter still on her face. Her hair also looks pretty awesome.

“How you feelin'?”

“Like I got hit buy a truck.” She slumps over on the counter, banging her head. “Ow.”

“That's what you get.” I point my spatula at her and tsk.

“Yeah, yeah. You're perfect, blah, blah, blah.” She uses her hand as a mouth for the blah, blah, blah.

“I am not and you know it. I just have my limits and I stick to them.” I make her a plate and put tons of salt on her eggs. She stabs some and stares at them before stuffing the fork in her mouth.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” she says as she chews with her mouth open. “So what was with that guy last night?” Her mouth is still full.

“Chew and swallow before you talk, my dear.” I almost asked her which guy she means, before remembering that she is unaware of the second guy, who shall remain nameless.

“Bite me. And you didn't answer the question.” She goes for another forkful.

“It's complicated.” She rolls her eyes. “Really, it is. I don't really know what to think.” Anymore. I shudder and turn to mind the eggs. We have more than enough for the two of us, but I need something to do so I can avoid looking at her.

“It seemed pretty clear the way you were dancing.” I blush to think of it and then want to slap myself. She's raising her eyebrows at me suggestively when I turn around.

“Come on, it was just dancing.” I don't want to think about Peter. I don't want to think about him ever again. The traitor.

“There is no such thing. When it comes to guys, even eye contact is sex. Haven't you ever heard of eye sex?”

“What?”

“It's when you make eye contact for three consecutive seconds with someone. Like this.” She puts down her fork and stares at me as she puts up one, two, three fingers.

“See?”

“See what?”

“That was eye sex. Was it good for you, baby?” She pretends to smoke a cigarette as she leans backward in her chair. She seems to have bounced back from last night's heartbreak.

“Amazing,” I say, also pretending to smoke. We do that for a little while and dissolve into laughter. Being with her does help me feel better after the night before, but not for long.

So fragile. The words echo through my head and I shudder. I am, and I always will be. I've been kidding myself if I think hanging out with Peter is a good idea. It's bad, bad, bad, and it was going to end. Now. Both Peter and Ivan said I have power. How can that be?

***

He hurt her. I wanted to kill him. I'd wanted to kill him before, but this was different. I wanted him gone, wiped out. Eviscerated. But he would kill her without hesitation if he knew. Or maybe not. With Ivan, you couldn't predict what he'd do. I would not take that risk.

I hovered to make sure he left her alive. I knew he wanted her. It was impossible not to, with all that adrenaline and excitement that shot like fireworks around her, but he did not take her. Not in that way. He told her that she could destroy me, which had become more and more possible. I did not know how long he would wait before he got impatient and decided to use her as a means to an end. He had waited many years, and now had a chance.

She looked around, as if searching for me. It was all I could do not to go down, sweep her up and fly away. To Budapest or Paris or Rio de Janero. Anywhere. Such thoughts were dangerous, so I pushed them aside and watched. Ivan left her, changed his form and ran through the woods. I saw the satisfaction in his run.

Ava's friend came out and found her crumpled on the porch. She was able to stand an help her friend to the car. Texas. What an odd name for a person.

I followed them to a house that belonged to the friend. I though about sending her a message, but didn't. This modern technology lacked the means of picking out the right words to say.

We didn't have much time before things would end. It would be the end for one of us. Either she would end me, or I her. I wanted it to be me. There was nothing will stop him from going after her before that happened, and only one thing I could do to protect her until then. After that... we'd cross that bridge when we got there.

I flew to her house and landed on the roof to wait for her to come back. Short of killing her there was only one other option, and it would require a sacrifice from me, but also one from her. One I was more than willing to make to keep her safe from him for the time being.

Mine.

I did not know if she will be as willing.

She was not going to like what I needed to do, regardless of the sacrifice. I was not sure I liked it much either, but there was nothing else to be done, even if it increased the chances I was going to kill her. I would rather it be by my hand than by anyone else's.

Twenty-One

“Have a good night?” My mother gives me a knowing look as I come through the door after Tex drops me off. I pull the neck of the hoodie I borrowed from Tex up so it covers the bruises.

“Oh yeah.” I roll my eyes and rub them, hands coming away with glitter and mascara. Waiting on the kitchen counter is a strong pot of earl grey tea and a plate of sugar cookies. I slump down in a chair and give her the quick and dirty version of what happened, leaving myself, Peter and Ivan out of it. I tell her about Tex and she laughs. Her skin is a little gray and she looks like she stayed up all night, but I still look worse.

“You didn't worry, did you?” I put another spoonful of sugar in my tea. At this point, it's half liquid, half sugar, but I need it.

“Of course not. You're a smart girl. I know I can trust you.” I'd be a horrible person if I betrayed my cancer-stricken mother's trust. Oh, wait...

“Where's Dad?” I ask, to change the subject.