Nightmare (12 page)

“Ah, yes.” There's the Velcro sound and the wings suck their way back into his shoulders. Mom gasps and covers her mouth with her hand. It is pretty impressive. If I do say so myself.

“I am sorry for bursting in, but I could not let her suffer for one more moment.” His thumb traces my face, as if making sure everything is still in the same place. His eyes haven't left me. As if I'm the only thing he'll ever want to look at again. It goes both ways.

“It's fine.” I'm so happy, I'm sure I'll explode with it, sending glitter and sparkly goo everywhere. Peter's eyes and hands finally leave my face and he looks down at the lamp, moving away from me. I have to resist my urge to grab him and never let go.

“Let me clean that up for you. The glass will not cut me.” Mom still hasn't moved. The longer she stays frozen, the more worried I get. I hope I don't have to slap her or anything.

“Here,” I say, going to the kitchen to get a garbage bag and a broom. It's so nice to be able to move without pain. I still remember what it felt like. It's never going to happen again. If Peter has to strap me to his back, that's how it's going to go. Because I can't do it again. It would kill me.

Mom's staring at the broken lamp as if it's going to dance and sing and repair itself. 

“Mom? Are you okay?” 

Her eyes blink. “Fine. I'm fine,” she says, her voice barely a whisper. “It was just, a little shocking. Just give me a moment.” She holds up one finger. 

“Take your time. Maybe you should sit down.” I usher her to the couch and get her sitting. Water, I should get her a glass of water. It worked last time. Sort of.

Peter's busy cleaning up the lamp, and Mom doesn't look like she's going anywhere so I dash to the kitchen and fill a glass with cold water. I press it into her hand. She's staring off into space. 

“Mom,” I say sharply. She looks up.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She wraps both hands around the glass and takes a sip.

“One moment you were in pain  and the next he was here and there were these wings and he was picking you up and it was just a lot to see.” She drinks again. Peter cleans up the mess as quickly as he can.

“Um, maybe you should put a shirt on.” I don't want him to, but it might make him look more normal and maybe Mom will stop freaking out so much. “I have a sweatshirt upstairs you can borrow.” He nods and is back in about five seconds wearing my “District 12 Tribute” sweatshirt. It makes me want to laugh, but the situation is so unfunny that I can't muster up the humor.

“Those wings are very, impressive,” she says to Peter. He comes around the couch and stands next to me. “Does it hurt when you, ah, put them away?”

“No.”

“Where do they go?”

Blink.

Mom looks at me, confused.

“It's not really an exact science. It's more like magic than anything else.”

“Magic?”

“Yeah. There isn't really an explanation. It just is.” I shrug. Mom drains the glass.

“So you two are...” She points at each of us to indicate a relationship. 

“It started before the Claiming, but yeah.” Eventually, I'm going to have to explain about the curse, but only if we can't break it ASAP. Which reminds me...

“Did you find anything out?”

“No.” So all that pain was for nothing? Oh, that's just fantastic.

Mom coughs. “I think I'm going to lie down, if you don't mind. Peter, you're welcome to stay.”

“Thank you Claire. Get some rest.” His hand reaches for mine. Reassurance.

“I will.” Her eyes are still pretty wide and she kind of floats down the hall. I'm going to have to check on her.

“Well?” I say as soon as she's out of earshot.

“I had to come back.”

I put my arms around him and place my head on his chest where his heart would be. I sigh and breathe him in, trying to erase the memories of agony. “So you didn't get anything? Why didn't you just bring him back with you?”

“I did not make it there.” His fingers wind in my hair.

“How far did you get?”

“Georgia.”

“You couldn't send him a message or make Viktor go see him or something?” I'm starting to think we are wasting our time with this.

“There is an easy solution to all this.” I'd been considering it since I knew I loved him, but had never said it out loud. 

“What is that?” I can tell he's smelling my hair. 

“Make me a noctalis.”

Peter

I ask her to repeat the words, even though I knew I heard her right. My hearing is perfect. I just needed to hear the words from her again. Then I have one thing to say to her.

“No.”

“It's not your choice to make.” I let go of her, stepping back to see her face. “It was just an idea.”

“I will not. Ever.”

Her chin rises. “You Claimed me.” 

“That was different.” So, so, so different. With the Claiming, I took her blood. If I made her a noctalis, I would take her soul. Humans can make more blood. She could not make another soul.

“I don't see how. I just went through hell when you left me. I never want to go through that again. The only way to break the Claiming is for you to kill me, or make me a noctalis. If it comes to that, I'll take the second.”

“I will not.” She storms upstairs. I follow her. She lets me into her room, and slams the door behind me. She puts her forehead against the wood and then turns on me.

“My mother is going to die. Maybe not today, but very soon. And then I'll have my dad. I have Tex and Jamie, and my Aunt Jenny but that's it. I have a very small group of people I can count on. Who love me. I know you can't love me now. But you could. You could love me and we could be together. Forever. I'm not saying that you should do it right now, but someday. You won't even consider someday?”

“You would be losing your soul.”

Her hands twist the cord that holds the key to my trunk. “You'll take good care of it for me.”

“I will not take it. Your soul belongs here,” I point to her chest. “And wherever it will go after this body is done doing its purpose. You would never see your mother again.”

“I can't base my decisions on things that may or may not happen. I don't know how I feel about heaven and all that, but I know how I feel about you and I know that I want to do this for you. You don't have to make the binding promise to me. You can make any promise. Just a little one. Like always turning the light off when you leave a room. Something stupid. Just something to undo the other one. See? It could work.” She tries to take my hands. 

“You do not know if it would work.”

“You didn't know the Claiming would work. Big rewards require big risks.” Her hands ball into fists. I can hear the desperation both in her voice and in her thoughts. She wants this very much. She shoots it at me, trying to make me give in. But I will not. Tears spill over her cheeks. 

I back away from her. “There has to be another way. We will find another way.”

“Why do we need another way when we have this one?”

“There is a better way.”

“Is there? Do you know that for absolutely sure?”

“I do not.” I will not lie to her.

“Then will you at least promise to take me with you next time? I will not go through what I did today. It's not happening. I don't care if you have to fly me at night. I'm not leaving you.” She strides toward me and grabs the shirt I am wearing. Her shirt.

“I won't leave you.” Her words are full of tears.

“I won't leave you, either.” I can't help myself. I pull her face upward and lick her tears away.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking your tears.”

“Oh.” She looks at me puzzled, but lets me. Then she starts to giggle. It's a bubbly light sound that makes me feel much better. As if the past hours had never happened.

Chapter Ten

Ava

He was being completely unreasonable. I mean, all I'm asking him to do is make me immortal and make me a promise. Piece of cake. 

“I need to go down and check on Mom. ” I mean, I'd just gotten him back, and I didn't want to take the chance that he'd go even a few feet away. I wasn't needy enough to ask him to come with me. “Just stay here.” I put my hands up like he's a dog I'm asking to stay. 

“I will wait.” He's always saying that. I always believe it.

I dash down the stairs. The freaking door is still open. I go and shut it. Good thing he hadn't broken it. It would have been fun to try and explain that to Dad.

I can hear the radio on in her room. She doesn't have a television in there. We might have to get her one, though, when she gets sicker. One thing at a time.

“Mom?”

“Hey, baby.” She's lying on her side, staring out the window. The curtains are open and the woods is beyond. There's a birdfeeder just outside with two goldfinches perched on it.

“Look. You almost never see two at once.” We watch the birds for a moment. Well, she watches the birds and I watch her. She looks more relaxed. 

“How are you doing?” It's a different question than how are you feeling.

“I'm okay, I guess. It was just a lot. Visually.” She makes a gesture with her hands that I think is meant to indicate Peter's wings.

“Yeah, I know. The first time he didn't warn me either. He just busted them out.” That's not exactly the truth, but I want to make her feel better.

“It was quite breathtaking. He looked like an angel.” My vampire angel.

“Yes, he does.” I blush. Except for the black feathers. They make him look like a fallen angel.

She finally turns toward me. “What are you going to do now?”

“It's kind of complicated. We're just going to bask in the non-painfulness for a little while.” Forever.

“Why did he go?”

“He was meeting with someone.” I still need the details for myself.

“Was it some sort of noctalis meeting?”

“Sort of. He had to ask him something.” It sounds really dumb out loud. 

“I think I need some time to think about it. I'll probably have more questions.” Her hands inch toward the notepad that sits on her nightstand. I have an identical pad in my own room. I hadn't used it in a while. Maybe it would help Peter and I figure things out. Or help the case for me becoming a noctalis.

“Sure. Can I get you anything?”

“No, I'm fine. Looks like our day got kind of hijacked.” She fingers the edge of the notepad. 

I give her a swift one-arm hug. “We'll do it again soon. I promise.”

“Okay, baby.” She looks back out the window and I can tell she wants to be alone. I close the door softly and go back upstairs to Peter. He's also staring out my window. He looks so good.

“How is she?” he says without looking away from the window. They're so much alike sometimes.

“I think she's coming to terms with it. I did. Tex did. I don't see why she should be any different.” He's trying to distract me.

“I'm not giving up.” I prop my chin on his chest, tipping my head back so I can stare at him.

“I know. I am hoping I can find something that will change your mind.” 

I take a deep breath.

“If you want to go for a little bit you can. I'm fine now.” Oh this is such a lie.

“I cannot leave you.” Well that's good because I don't want him to anyway. At least we're on the same page with that.

“You can. I'll be fine. I need to start making dinner anyway. Oh god, the laundry.” I slap my forehead. With everything else, I'm pretty sure we'd left a wet load in the washer. 

He thinks for a moment. “I could help you.”

“You know how to do laundry?” This is the first I've heard of it.

He blinks. “You could teach me.”

“Okaayyy.” It sounds like one of the last things he'd want to do, but he attempts a smile and kisses my forehead. The smile's not great, but not bad either. 

We go downstairs and find that, yes, there is a load of wet laundry in the washer. I move it over to the dryer as Peter watches like I'm splitting atoms or creating a Van Gogh replica.

“What do you do when your clothes get dirty?” I've always wondered, but felt rude asking. 

Blink.

“Get new clothes.”

“Where?” Somehow I can't picture Peter walking into the Gap and coming out with a polo shirt and khakis.

“I steal them.”

“Oh. You should let me buy some for you. I don't feel right about you stealing.”

“I leave them something in return.”

Okay, now my curiosity is piqued. “Like what?”

“Old coins.”

“I guess that's one way of doing it. If you want, I could sell some of the coins for you. Or I could just buy clothes for you. I have plenty of money.” Another white lie. But if Peter needed money for clothes, I'd definitely spot him a couple hundred bucks.

“I cannot take blood and money from you.” What's mine is his.

“I'll give you both those things and you know it.” I start piling more clothes into the washer. Dear god, please let there be no underwear. I don't care so much about Peter seeing my clean underwear, but dirty is another matter. It's way too intimate. I decide to drop the money issue, for now.

“So you put in enough to fill up the machine. You have to put the heavy things like jeans spaced out, so they don't all get to one spot and stop it from spinning.” He listens as if I'm describing the most fascinating thing ever. I let him pour the detergent in and crank the dial. The machine guns on. It's really old. Although, not as old as Peter.

“That's it,” I say, flourishing my hands.

“That was not very hard.” He sounds disappointed.

“Yeah, but when you have to do it all the time, it's a pain in the ass.” I have a crazy thought. Well, not so crazy. If Peter wants to help me out with stuff, I'm not going to stop him. Especially if he wants to do dishes. Or clean the lint trap in the dryer. Or a million other little chores that don't get done anymore. I ask him if he's game.

“Of course.” As if he was waiting for me to ask. How could I not love him?

It seems crazy to be doing little mundane tasks after what happened this morning. But what else are we going to do? This stuff needs to be done, and I could use a hand to do it. I ask him once again if he's okay with it and all I get is a blink. Good enough for me.