“Just things. Nothing you need to worry your pretty head about. Why don't you go and arrange some of those flowers around the house? It'll be like a florist blew up in here for a few days. I'm going out to the garden.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, baby. I'm sure.” Claire gives me a look before she goes out of the room and shuts the door. I hear her humming outside.
“It is like a floral shop blew up in here,” Ava says, gesturing to the flowers. I couldn't agree more.
It takes us the better part of an hour to find homes for all the flowers. We fill the rooms, bathrooms and even put a few vases in Ava's room.
“I don't get why people send flowers when someone is going to die. The flowers end up dying and reminding you. They should send things that are going to last.”
“Flowers remind you of the fleeting nature of life.”
“True, but I still think it's a stupid thing to do. If they're this bad now, what is it going to be like —” she stops, not able to continue.
“I know,” I say, taking her hand and massaging it with mine. “Let me take some of your stress. I have broad shoulders.”
She laughs and puts her arms around my waist, resting her chin on my chest and looking up into my eyes. I let myself get lost in hers for a minute.
“So what do you think of Viktor and Tex? Yes, no, maybe so?”
“I think he is smitten. I think she is as well.”
“She's different with him. I mean, she's still flirty and weird, but sometimes I see her looking at him, and it makes my heart ache because I understand. I think she's in love with him, but she hasn't realized it yet. Does the Claiming always do that?”
“Not always. Claiming is a connection, another way to form a bond. Sometimes that leads to love. Sometimes it doesn't,” I say, kissing her forehead. “You are right about Texas, I think.”
“God help us when she realizes she loves him.” She rolls her eyes and I try to do the same. She laughs and I join in, my voice blending with hers like cream into coffee.
“Getting better. How much do you want to bet Tex is giving Viktor smiling lessons right now?” she says.
“Don't underestimate Viktor's ability to act human when he wants. I have seen it in action. He can be very charming when the situation requires it.”
“Wow. I'm trying to picture it. He's always so stoic. So... Russian? Is that racist?”
“His natural inclination is toward his noctalis side, but his human side is easier to find than mine. Although, mine has gotten much closer to the surface since I met you.”
I hold her face between my hands and meet her lips for a chaste kiss. Her mind roars at me, and I'm blasted with images of the two of us tumbling onto her bed, her taking my shirt off, her taking her shirt off, and...
“Ava, stop. We need to stop.” I push her back and she blushes a brilliant red color.
“You just read my mind, didn't you?”
“Yes. And I had to push you away or I would have followed through with that vision.”
“Is it because you don't want to? Or you're afraid you'll hurt me or something? I know it's a stupid and trivial thing to fuss about when everything else is going on, but I just need to know.”
“How could you think that I don't want you?”
“Show me,” she says, staring at me with those green eyes.
I close my eyes and think about her. I imagine her skin and her lips and try to send all the things I adore about her into my head. I press my forehead against hers and try to push all those thoughts through our connection. She makes a little noise of shock. I force harder, and she grips my waist.
“How did you do that? I thought you could only read my mind.”
“I don't know,” I say, opening my eyes, “but everything seems impossible until you do it. And with you, I think nearly anything is possible, my Ava-Claire. You make everything possible.”
She smiles at me and we embrace.
“You sound more optimistic than you have been,” she says.
“Must be the flowers. Full of possibility.”
She rolls her eyes again.
Eight
Brooke
If I'd been less cute, I probably wouldn't get as many as I did. People had a hard time not stopping to help a pretty girl stranded on a rural road. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. I hated doing it that way, because the people who stopped were usually the nice ones. The helpful ones. I really should find a better way to do this, but for now I just needed some blood and this was the easiest way to get it.
I made sure to wear a short skirt and a tank top that showed off my chest. It wasn't an outfit I ever would have worn in my human life, but that didn't matter. That Brooke had died. I was a different Brooke. An immortal one.
I popped the hood up and pretended to be fiddling with things I had no idea about. The funny thing was that Dillon had loved cars, and every now and then I'd hung out with him while he worked on them. I asked him to show me a few things, and he had. I knew how to change the oil, do a battery jump, that sort of thing. I could also change a tire on my own. I could probably do it even faster now, but I hadn't tried yet.
I didn't have to wait long. Even on this rural road there were always people going here or there. This place was similar to New Hampshire, only it had the distinct tang of salt water in the air. New Hampshire had a lot of lakes, but only a small portion of the state reached the ocean and I'd never lived there. Until I became immortal and could go where I wanted, when I wanted, I hadn't realized how large the world was. I'd barely been out of New Hampshire in my first sixteen years of human life. My mother wasn't the kind of parent who took us on trips or anything like that. I'd gone to Canobee Lake Park with Cara and her family, but other than that I'd never left our small town.
A truck rumbled down the road, slowing when the driver saw me. I moved my face into a pout, a trick I'd had to relearn and practice for hours in a mirror. My face had lost the ability to make human expressions. There was a teenage boy driving the truck. He reminded me of Dillon.
“Hey, do you need some help?”
“Yeah, I don't know what's wrong with it. It just died.” I put my hands up as if I was lost when it came to auto maintenance. I wished I could cry, because that would help. I'd tried to cry, but my immortal body didn't produce tears. I could make my voice sound like I was crying and just hide my face. I'd done that enough times.
“Want me to take a look?” He glanced down the road and then pulled the truck in front of mine so it was out of the way. When I was done with him I'd probably just push it into the woods. Or maybe I could ditch this car and grab the truck. I hadn't driven a truck yet.