Nightmare (13 page)

I show him a sorts of things like changing lightbulbs and the wonders of Clorox wipes. He takes it all in, and I can tell he's paying attention.

“I'm not totally boring you, am I? I know this isn't riveting stuff.” I'd just shown him the amaziosity of the microwave.

“Anything human is interesting to me.” I find that impossible to believe. Vomiting is not interesting. Neither is doing taxes.

“If you say so.” 

Jamie calls me during his study hall. 

“Hey you.”

“Hey, Ave. I just wanted to see if you were okay.” My stomach clenches with guilt. A rumble outside makes me look up. It sounds just like...

“Oh my god, what are you doing here?” He hangs up and I rush to the door. And remember that Peter is here. Crap. But he's already ahead of me.

“I will be on the roof.” 

“You don't have to leave.” Thinking about him being on the roof makes me feel like I'm going to die all over again. 

“You need to be with your friend. I am right here. I will not leave. If you need me, I will know.” He takes my hands and presses a kiss to my hair. And then he tugs away and is up the stairs. Jamie knocks on the door. I glance from the stairs to the door. But I'd let Jamie down so many times. Suck it up, Ava.

I answer the door, and I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. His own face beams, and I notice he's got a shopping bag on one arm and my homework tucked under the other.

“Jamie.” 

“How are you feeling?” I step aside so he can come in. His smell slices through the air. 

“Why don't we go outside? I could use a little sunshine.” And fresh air. Fresh non-blood-scented air.

“Are you sure? I don't want you to get sicker.”

“I'm fine,” I say, yanking his arm out the door. He's too much of a gentleman not to follow my orders. He drops the bag and homework before I tug him toward my mother's flower beds. The tulips are just starting to peek their little heads out of the ground. I reach down and brush a leaf off one poor little bud. I'd have to come out this weekend and do some work with Mom.

I plunk myself down on one of the Adirondack chairs. Jamie takes the other. He's studying me as if I hold the answer to life. His face is so serious.

“Ave?” he finally says. I shade my face with my hand. Uh oh.

“Yeah?”

“You're not sick, are you?” I open my mouth to lie. But I can't do it anymore.

“I'm not sick. But Mom is.”

Peter

I wait on the roof, trying to give Ava privacy. But I hear every word. I hear her blood rush as she confesses her mother's illness to Jamie. Her pain at hiding the truth from him had finally become too much.

“I've wanted to tell you so long. I just... couldn't.” Tears roll down her skin. Jamie breathes steadily next to her. Listening. Deciding what to say. She picks at the paint on the chair, composing herself. Despite her pain at saying the words, an immense sense of peace engulfs her, and, in turn, engulfs me in a glorious relief. The desire for his blood evaporates from her.

“Oh Ave.” The chair protests as he gets up. Their clothes rustle as he folds her into an embrace. That simple gesture breaks her. Their hearts beat in opposition, synching for one moment. Sounds erupt from her. Tearing, painful sounds that rip at my ears. I want more than anything in that moment to go to her. But I stay where I am. Listening.

And then a sound I do not expect. Laughter.

“I can't believe I finally told you. I haven't told anyone. Not even Tex.” The sound comes out of her like a rushing river. I delight in the sound.

Jamie is as shocked as I am. But I hear him smile as he wipes the tears from her cheeks.

“I'm glad you told me.”

“I'm sorry that I waited so long. It's just that with Cassie and everything, I didn't want to put more on you.” He pulls her into a hard hug, almost stealing her breath.

“This is what I'm here for. This. Right here. Being here for you. Because we're there for each other. We're family.”

“I love you, James.”

“I love you too, Ave.” They hug again. And then Ava makes a joke about getting snot on his shirt and the moment is broken. Laughter sparkles in the air and they dissolve into talking about human things. School. Teachers. Homework. Things I could never understand. Things I could never share with her. 

So I sit and wait for her to come back to me. She is human. She must have moments to be the girl she would have been if she had not met me. 

Chapter Eleven

Ava

Jamie brings me soup and ginger ale and everything from his medicine cabinet. And cheese and butter and bread. And
Stand by Me
, our favorite movie to watch together. He knew me so well.

“What about practice?”

“You're more important.” And I knew that I was. 

But part of my mind is still on the roof with Peter. Part of my heart as well. It wasn't something that I could control. He'd Claimed part of me, and I'd given him the rest.

I also keep one ear turned toward my mother's room. From the sound of her deep breathing, she's asleep. 

Jamie stays for two hours, made me grilled cheese, tomato soup and sitting next to me on the couch. I have to keep moving over because his blood was making me want. I try to focus on the movie, but the blood want keeps poking at me.

“I'll be right back,” I say, hoping he'll think I'm going to the bathroom.

“I'll be waiting.” He sounds like Peter. I dash up the stairs, tear open my door and shove my face out the window. Gulping fresh air, I almost scream when a face appears in front of me. He's upside down, hanging over the edge of the roof like Spiderman. I have flashes of that kiss in the rain scene in the movie. Now is not the time for kissing, Ava.

“I was coming to get you.” I've never seen Peter upside down. It's a good look for him. At least his hair is out of his face so I can see those amazing eyes. They fix on mine, unblinking.

“Thanks. I'm fine. I just needed a minute.” I breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I'm good now. I got this.” I toss him a smile before pulling my head back inside. My body protests leaving him again, pulling me back toward the window. It's a bit like trying to run through the ocean. Something's always pulling you back. I fight against it. 

Jamie's licking the butter off his fingers when I flop back on the couch. I stick my tongue out at him. He grabs my nose, but there's something wrong. The sun has gone behind the clouds again.

“What's up James?”

“Nothing.” He smiles, but it's weak. I know his face almost better than my own. 

“Nope, you don't get to do that. I got to dump my stuff on you, you get to do the same. We're family, remember?” He looks down at his hands.

“Jamie?”

“I'm just worried. About Cassie. And what's going to happen when the baby gets here. I don't know what Dad's going to do.” Jamie's dad may be an alcoholic, but there was no way he could hurt a baby. No way.

“He hasn't hit her again, has he?”

“No.” He lets out a breath of relief. “He's actually been sober for a two days. He went to an AA meeting.”

“Really?” I never thought I'd see the day. “Maybe he's going to change.”

“Maybe. But I can't stop thinking that it's only temporary. That he'll do it for a little while and then something will go wrong. I'm just scared, Ave.”

“I know. But if you expect him to fail, then he will. He needs your support. Maybe this baby is what he needs to finally turn his life around.” I wasn't ready to say everything happened for a reason, but maybe this was a case when it did.

“She let me feel it move the other day,” he says quietly, a tiny smile almost coming out. If anyone would love that baby as much as it deserved, it was Jamie.

“That's really cool, Uncle Jamie.” I toss my napkin at him. He laughs, finally.

“Sooo, Tex and I were thinking about throwing Cassie a baby shower. Unless one of her friends is already doing it.”

Jamie snorts. “You and I both know Cassie doesn't have friends.” She did have a habit of burning her bridges when it came to friends, even in high school. “Besides, she's done with most of her friends. They were the ones who got her into this in the first place.”

“So, do you think it's a good idea?”

“Who would come?”

“Tex and me and your mom and mine and...” I can't think of anyone else. “I could invite Aj.”

This makes Jamie laugh. Everyone adores my Aunt Jenny. Well, except my dad, but that's because they were brother and sister.

“We don't have to think about it right now. We have a few months to plan it out.”

“Sure.”

“I wish there was more I could do for you. I've been MIA as a friend.” He pulls my feet into his lap and starts massaging them. Oh heaven. Jamie gave the best foot rubs. I hadn't had one in months. We hadn't done anything like this in months.

“You've had a pretty good reason.” I close my eyes and lean back into the couch. I may have told Jamie Thing One, but there was still Thing Two and Thing Two-and-a-half. Still, Tex knew about those, so with my two best friends, I'd covered both Things.

There is such a freedom in unburdening a secret. But it is our fear of what will happen after the secret is out that keeps our lips sealed. I hadn't exactly been afraid of telling Jamie. I was just afraid that saying it out loud,
my mother is going to die
, made it real. 

But it was real. 

Jamie finally departs, taking with him the rest of the groceries and my secret. He promised that we'd go out to Miller's that weekend like old times. Come hell or high water or an army of noctali, I would be there.

Peter comes down the stairs as soon as Jamie's truck is gone.

“Well done.”

“Thanks. It felt good.”

“I could tell.” There's something off about him. A nagging feeling that pulls at me. I take a moment, trying to understand it.

“Are you okay?”

“I am fine.” Oh please, I was the queen of I Am Fine-land. But I let it go. I had to pick my battles sometimes.

Mom finally emerges from her room a few minutes later while Peter and I are cleaning the kitchen. She appears to have gone totally zen about the whole thing, asking if I would make her some tea in a completely calm voice, not taking any notice of Peter. I hope she isn't stuffing what happened earlier away in some dark place where it will attack her in some quiet moment. I hope I haven't broken her. Again.

“Was that Jamie I heard?”

“Yeah, he brought over my homework.”

“He's a good boy.”

“He is.”

She takes a sip of tea and scratches her head. She's not wearing a wig. It's the first time Peter's seen her without one. I'm surprised, but I keep my mouth shut. 

Setting down her cup, she looks up at Peter for the first time. 

“So you're an angel.”

“Not quite,” he says, making me laugh. Mom looks back and forth between us before taking another sip of tea. 

“He's a little bit of everything supernatural.” I can tell she's mentally struggling with it. For some reason, actually seeing Peter in his noctalis form was more shocking than telling her he wasn't human in the first place.

“You look like an angel,” she says, tracing the rim of her cup. I had to agree with her there. He did. Something in the way she said it reminded me of a conversation we'd had a few weeks ago. About heaven and angels and what happens after you die. 

Oh.

I send her back to bed after another cup of tea, and she doesn't protest. I'd like to go to bed myself, but someone has to be alert in case she has another episode.

By the time Dad pulls in, I've got the last load of laundry in the dryer, baked macaroni and cheese in the oven, the table set and my mother on the couch with a cup of tea and a romance novel. Booyah.

She's thoughtful, but calm. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, but as time wears on I expect it less and less. My mother was strong. Strong enough to see a vampire angel and not run away screaming.

And now it's time to say goodbye to Peter, at least for a little while. I'd rather tear my own arm off than be in a separate room, but it has to be done. I put on a brave face. Or try to.

“I will see you later.”

“Bye, Peter.” I give him a kiss on the cheek. He turns my head and gives me a soft one on the lips. Between that and his smile, my knees go weak and I almost fall when he zooms up the stairs. My heart wants to lunge out of my chest and chase after him, but I'm able to keep it in my chest.

“He's like Batman, vanishing into the night with a swirl of his cape,” Mom says from the couch. 

“I prefer to think of him as the Phantom of the Opera. You know, without all the stalking tendencies and love for basements and singing.” I had no idea if Peter could sing. Probably. He was good at everything else.

“He needs a mask,” mom says, going back to her book.

“True.” 

Dad bumbles in, sighing heavily as he puts his briefcase down. As if it holds all the weight of the world. Wasn't Atlas the one who held the world on his shoulders? 

Immediately, he goes to the couch and Mom. She and I had already had a chat about what we would tell him, and what we wouldn't. We both know that he would probably have a heart attack, and neither of us wants to go through that.

“Hello, Sam.”

“Hi, Taylor.” His face lightens up considerably as he goes to give her a kiss. It reminds me of the moment I had with Peter earlier. God, I have a one track mind.

“How are you?”

Making my exit, I go to the kitchen to take the casserole out of the oven, giving them some privacy.

“Good. Ava's been taking good care of me.” We'd also made a pact that we weren't going to talk about the fact that I stayed home unless it came up. Which it shouldn't. Dad didn't pay much attention to my school stuff, unless I was failing or something. He left all that in my mother's capable hands. Which was hilarious, considering she was the one who'd let me play hooky today. Actually, it had been more like painy, at least until Peter had gotten back. 

“She has?” He looks over at me, and though his voice is pleasant, his eyes are narrow and suspicious. I smile and nod, straightening my apron. Mom's letting me borrow it. I feel so freaking domestic.