“I feel like we should do something.”
“Like what?”
I put my elbows on the hood of my car. “I don't know. My mom always bakes in crisis situations. When my grandmother had a stroke she made a triple layer cheesecake and a bunch of bread,” I say.
“Somehow I don't think that's going to help.”
“I also don't think they make a Hallmark card for this either.”
“'I'm sorry you're screwed up sister is knocked up' doesn't have a good ring to it,” she says.
“Not really.”
“We'll have to think of something.”
“Agreed.” We shake again, and Tex yanks me in and gives me a nasty wet kiss on my cheek.
“Luv ya!” She does a little twirl before skipping away to her car. She is so strange. But then, so am I.
***
“What's up, baby?” Mom says as I sit down at the kitchen table after school. I think about telling her everything is fine, but I just don't have the energy for it.
“Everything.”
“You okay?”
“Meh.” She hands me a plate of cake. I could smell it the second I got out of the car, and my mouth has been watering ever since. There's also another smell that I can't put my finger on that makes my stomach growl. I wander around the kitchen, searching for it.
“Do you want some dinner? I'm making fettuccine alfredo.” She sings the last few words, putting an arm around my shoulder. I take a few more bites of cake. It doesn't taste as good as I thought it would.
“Maybe.” The thought of the creamy sauce sends my stomach into a nosedive. I shove the rest o the cake away. I hope it doesn't hurt her feelings.
“I've having the girls over next weekend. I already called June and Helen. I just have to get in touch with Mae and Liz.”
“Are you sure, sure?”
“Yes.” She stirs the pasta with certainty. I really don't know if this is a good idea, but I'm going to keep my trap shut. They're her friends.
“Ava,” Dad calls from his office. Oh, I so do not need this.
“Yeah?”
“Can you come in here, please?” He seems fully recovered from his little breakdown and is back to his irritating ways.
“Sure.” I give my mother a look and she wrinkles her nose at me. Normally, that would make me smile. I give it a good effort before I walk down the hall.
“Close the door,” he says, looking up from the computer. He's been trying to do more and more work from home, but he just seems to do more work, period. When he'd been going to work every day, he would come home and be done. Now he can access it all the time, so he does.
“We've talked about you upsetting your mother.”
“What am I supposed to say? I had a shitty day.” It wasn't exactly that bad, but I'm not in the mood for him to be like this. Also, I'm really distracted. That smell is much stronger. It doesn't smell like any food I've ever had, but I want to eat it, whatever it is.
“Ava, don't use that language.”
“Why? Because it might upset her? Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Oh look, the house hasn't fallen down.” My filter is gone, gone, gone.
“Ava Sullivan.” He stands up. What, does he think he's going to intimidate me? “I will not have you speak that way to me in this house.” A wave of the smell cascades over me and I glance around the room. Maybe he's hiding something in here.
“I won't have you tell me what to talk to my own mother about. I had a bad day. I'm not going to go around smiling like some psycho so you can act like things are fine. They're not. Not even you can pretend they're fine, remember?” I hate throwing that in his face, but I can't stop myself.
“That's it. You're grounded.” He stands right in front of me. The smell gets stronger. It's coming from him. I want to get closer, but there's no way I'm going to do it.
“Oh, really?”
“Go to your room.” He points out the door, as if he expects me to march right off.
“No.”
“Go to your room.”
“No.”
“Go. To. Your. Room.” He gets right in my face, every word seething with anger. It doesn't scare me. The scent has kind of taken over my brain. I want it so much my stomach starts making noises.
“The only place I'm going is the kitchen to talk to my mother. I'm not five anymore, Dad. You can't make me do what you want me to by threatening to take away my toys.” With that I turn around and walk out, closing the door softly behind me. I can't slam it or my mother would get suspicions. As soon as I shut it, the smell lessens, and I can think clearly. I swallow the excess saliva my mouth produced and try to calm down.
“What was that about?”
“Nothing,” I say with a smile, hoping she'll think that we're planning some surprise for her.
“Oh really?” She smiles back. Mission accomplished.
I dash up to my room and shut the door, breathing like I've run miles. I have an idea of what the smell is, but I don't want to think about it, because then it would be real, and I would know it was real and it can't be. I can't want to... No. I'm not thinking of it.
It is always darkest before the dawn. The quote of my mom's echos in my head. Things are about to get a whole lot darker, I can feel it.
Thirty
“I just don't know what to do.” It's the middle of the night and I'm in the cemetery with Peter. It's been getting worse being away from him. Pretty soon I'll have to walk around holding his hand like he's some ratty security blanket that I can't go anywhere without.
“Calm down.” Oh, he can stay calm. I'm busy pacing in front of the mausoleum and nibbling my nails.
“I can't calm down. You're sure I'm not turning into a noctalis? Because I think...” I can't finish. I can't tell him that I think I'm smelling blood and I picture killing people when I'm mad.
“It would require a much greater exchange of blood. It is not possible.”
“Well, Jesus Peter, you're a vampire with wings. Anything's possible.” I'm being mean to him, but I don't have anyone else to unleash my freak out on, so he gets the brunt of it.
“Ava.” His voice makes me stop pacing.
“What?”
“It will be fine.” His cool voice normally soothes me, but I'm too worked up.
“How do you know?”
“I do.”
“How can you be so sure of things?”
“I am sure of you.” We lock eyes, and I let him do that thing that pulls me in. I lose myself for a moment, but he yanks the contact, eyes going toward the woods. My hearing may not be as good as his, but I hear someone coming. A noctalis someone.