“Peter, are you crazy?” I say. His head goes to the side and I want to kiss him, but this is too important. “Think about it. If she takes it away, then everything will be fine.”

“It won't. You don't know her like I do,” he says.

“Listen to him,” Viktor chimes in.

“You stay out of this,” I say. He just showed up five seconds ago. He has no right to an opinion.

“Yes, Viktor, stay out of this.” Ivan looks up at me and smiles slowly. Yes, I know you have an agenda, but you don't want to kill me, so I'll deal with you later. I need to get out of this situation first.

“You could be free,” I say, touching his hair again. I always thought it was dirty, but it's soft, like feathers.

“The only one who can set me free is you. Without you, it wouldn't be worth it.”

“Peter, don't do this to me. I'm your mother.” Di is really desperate now.

“My mother's name is Ellen Mackintire. She died in 1964. You are the woman who took away my soul, nothing more.”

“Peter.” Somehow she thinks saying his name over and over will change his mind. That only really works when there are tears involved. I'm pretty sure noctali don't cry.

“Please, Peter,” I say. We're both begging him for different things.

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“Let me do this, Ava-Claire,” he says to me. It's the first time he's called me by both my names. My heart contracts and I know what he's going to do.

He turns to speak to Di. “I want you to promise me that you will leave Ava alone. You will not harm, or cause, bribe or convince anyone else to do so. You will not harass her, or contact her in any way. You will stay away from her. You are never to look at or talk to her again.”

“Peter.” She struggles once more, but Ivan and Viktor hold her down. If she were human, her shoulders would have been broken or dislocated, but she is not.

“I promise,” she whispers, not losing eye contact with Peter. At first I think I imagine it, but a breeze hums through the air. There's a crackle, like static and I tingle with it. It reminds me of that one time Tex dared me to touch an electric fence at the pig farm. The wind gets stronger, whipping my hair over my face. Other than their hair, the tableau in front of me doesn't move.

The air goes still. It's done.

Peter turns his back on Di.

“She'll kill you, Peter dear! You don't want to die, do you?”

“I'm already dead. Just existing,” he says, touching my face.

“What about all I've done for you?”

“You took my soul. She's going to give it back to me.”

“Peter!” Ivan punches her again, and the sound is cut short.

“Let's go,” he says, holding out one hand.

“What about her?”

“They will take care of her. You need not worry.”

“Are you sure they'll be okay?”

“Yes.”

I have reservations about taking his hand. I don't want him to think I'm fine with him choosing me instead of ridding himself of his promise. My hand reaches out and takes his as if I don't have a choice. I'll always choose him.

Thirty-Two

Peter drives me home and tucks me into bed.

“Will you stay?” I'm reluctant to lose skin contact with him.

“I will always stay. I could not leave, even if I wanted to,” he says, pushing my hair out of my eyes.

“I know, but you don't have to stay on the roof. You can read my books if you want.” I'm caught between wanting him to stay and wanting him to go so he won't start caring more than he already does about me. I'm freaked out and scared and I care more about feeling safe than anything right now. I'll worry about the love thing tomorrow.

“I will stay.”

“Good.” Despite the insane night, and the almost dying part, I yawn. “You still have my book.”

“I know. I will return it to you.”

“I don't care, you can keep it.”

“I'll return it.” He turns his back on my bookshelves. My hands twist around the covers with desire to pull him toward me. To hold onto him like a life preserver.

“You should get to sleep.”

“I know.” I sit up, watching him. Wondering what he's thinking. “How do you feel?”

He thinks a moment before he answers.

“Free.”

“But you still have the promise.” I want to call it a curse, but refrain.

“It doesn't matter.” I sling my feet over the side of the bed.

“It does,” I say, starting to stand up. I can't take being on the other side of the room from him.

“You are safe. That is what matters.”

“What if you... fall for me.”

“Then I will cease to exist.” The way he says it triggers a memory of something he said before. Oh. OH.

“That's what you want. You told me that when I first met you.”

Blink.

I pull away from him, stung. The pain of the night crashes on me, as if the adrenaline that had kept it at bay shuts off like a dripping tap.

I survey my body. The worst is my hands and forearms. My legs were encased in jeans that are torn here and there, but otherwise I'm fine.

“Ava.”

“I should wash up.” Tears threaten to spill over again if I look at him any more. I dash to the bathroom and turn on the water.

“Ava, things are complicated.”

“No shit,” I say looking at my face in the mirror. There are a few scrapes, but nothing major. Nothing make-up can't cover.

“It's okay Peter. I just got confused and thought something else. It's fine. You can go fly if you want.”

“I want to be with you.”

“Then why do you want to kill yourself?” I spin around, my hip smacking against the sink. What's a little more pain?

“I am already dead. My soul is gone. Yours is intact. When you die, your soul will continue to exist. Whether that be in another place or in another body, I don't know. You will always exist because your soul belongs to you. I gave mine away. When this existence ends, I will end.”

“I don't want you to end.” My voice chokes on tears.

“I know. Strange that the only person who could end me is the only one I want to stay with.” I look up, startled. What?

“You want to stay with me?”

“Of course.” His head goes to the side and I want to kiss him so much it hurts. “How could you think otherwise?”

“I don't know.” I lean against him, pushing my head into his chest. His arms go around me, pulling me closer.




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