Aven's Dream

by Alessa James

  I would go to college. Then, I would find a job I liked, maybe even that gave me a sense of purpose and fulfillment. A job where I could spend my time alone, away from the seething, writhing energy of everyone around me.

  And maybe someday I would meet someone. Not a replacement for Will, but a distant second place finisher in a race that had already been won.

  My life would go on, and it would go on without Will Kincaid.

  Epilogue: Promise

  Two weeks until my birthday. Three until prom. Then graduation. It was a Saturday night. Most people were probably getting ready to go out, and here I was, sitting on a bench in the same empty park, feeling like a part of me had been frozen in time.

  The truth was that things were good, and I should have been happy. Barring total ruin on my Trig final, I would get by with a B. And all of my other classes were holding steady with A grades. I had been accepted to my dad’s university.

  But my mom wouldn’t be there for any of it. She wouldn’t be there to tell the story of the night I was born like she had on every birthday since I could remember. She wouldn’t be there to take pictures and fuss over my hair before prom. And she wouldn’t see me walk on graduation day. I missed her every day, some days more than others. Or maybe it was just the difference between a dull ache and a sharp pang—a sense that a piece of me was missing. I knew her absence would hurt more in the next few weeks.

  That was the one nice part of being an empath: I knew who loved me without question.

  My head turned automatically when I heard the sound of a motorcycle, and I couldn’t help thinking of Will. Looking down, I smiled. I had done a lot of that in the past several months—searching for signs of Will where there was none. Deep down, I understood the reason he had left, and I probably would have done the same, because hurting someone you love—by accident or on purpose—was always more painful than hurting yourself.

  The real problem was: I hadn’t yet reached the phase where I could truly accept that he was gone. Instead, I kept expecting him to reappear, part of me stubbornly believing that I would turn my head, and he would be there. But it had been six months, and that piece of my life had slowly eroded away. I hadn’t seen Gen, Edmond, or James in months, so if they were still somewhere watching over me, they stayed out of sight. Or maybe they thought the danger from Fidatov was over now that Will wasn’t in my life.

  It was silly, but I regretted not even having a picture of Will on my phone to look at. Although, in the back of my mind, I still kind of wondered if his image would have shown up in a photograph. Or, like a real vampire, would he have been invisible? Patting Darcy on the head, I stood up and put my earbuds in, smiling at the next track that came on. It was an ancient favorite.

  Bittersweet Symphony. How absurdly appropriate.

  I started walking back toward the house. Then I stopped and turned to look back at where I had just been, wondering if I would come here after college started in the fall. I blinked. There was a red rose sitting on the bench. It hadn’t been there a second ago—I was sure. My eyes moved to the small black jewelry box sitting beside it, and I shook my head, dropping Darcy’s leash. It wasn’t possible.

  “It can’t be,” I whispered, remembering the sound of the ring hitting the floor in the house on Kincaid.

  I pulled the earbuds from my ears.

  “I’ve had some spare time to search for it.”

  My head jerked toward the sound of Will’s voice, and my breathing hitched when I saw him perched at the top of the play structure. Lit only by moonlight, he was so beautiful that it almost hurt to look at him. Shaking my head, I closed my eyes.

  “If you’re going to disappear again, do it now. Please,” I whispered.

  I counted to ten, hoping he would be gone—because seeing a figment of my imagination was better than losing him again. But when I opened my eyes, he was standing in front of me, and his eyes were a clear, bright blue as he held out the box in the palm of his hand.

  “I told you I was a selfish creature, and never more so than in this moment,” he said quietly.

  When he reached up slowly and brushed my cheek his fingers, I flinched at the memories that flooded through me—sensations I had worked to bury deep down.

  “Aven, I want to be in your life … in any capacity you will allow me to be.”

  I looked down.

  “It’s been almost six months,” I whispered. “How do you know I don’t have a boyfriend? A date later tonight?”

  When I looked up, Will blinked, and I had a moment to savor the rare look of shock on his face.

  “Do you?”

  It was my turn to give him an incredulous look.

  “Yeah, that’s why I’ve been sitting in the park alone on a Saturday night.”

  Will appeared sheepish for a brief second, and I had to clench my hands tightly into fists to keep from reaching out to touch him. I still wasn’t entirely sure he was really here, standing right in front of me. I shook my head again.

  “I don’t think I can take waiting for the next time you doubt yourself and disappear for my own good,” I whispered. “That’s not a relationship. That’s PTSD.”

  “There is so much I can never forgive myself for,” he said, reaching down to touch my wrist.

  I shivered.

  “What happened that night?” I asked quietly. “I need to know.”

  We had never spoken of it, and I had to hear it from his lips.

  “I can’t say for certain,” Will began slowly. “In the worst of circumstances, we’ve always relied on one another to serve as a proxy conscience—and to restrain us physically if we’ve lost control for any reason. Before you came for me that night, Fidatov had kept me under UV lights, draining me until the only thing that drove me was the need to take energy. I didn’t even recognize you. I recognized what you were, but any memory of you had been wiped clean by the craving.”

  He paused, and I looked up at him.

  “Then you pressed the ring into my chest, and a moment later I felt an immense burst of energy … Suddenly I saw myself, not as a monster, but as you saw me. The stupor of the craving lifted—and there I was, at the edge of …” He stopped, closing his eyes. “There is nothing worse I could do, and Fidatov knew if I had killed you, it would have destroyed me. James would not have had to seal me into a tomb; I gladly would have done it myself had I been faced with an eternity without you. And after I regained my senses, I knew that I deserved to lose you for what I had done.”

  “That’s the problem, though,” I said sadly. “Eventually you’ll get tired of feeling guilty, and then you would regret being with me. Besides, I can’t be with someone who thinks he’s a monster.”

  He smiled, which only made me frown in confusion. Then, before I could back away, his arm dropped to my waist, and he lifted me easily, staring into my eyes for several seconds. I tried to breathe slowly and hold onto the moment—terrified that I was about to wake up. Then his lips touched mine, and fire spread through my veins. When I gripped onto the front of his shirt, a growl rose in his chest and his lips gently parted mine. He kissed me until I was dizzy. A kiss that was even better than I remembered, which was nearly impossible. When he pulled back and set me down, I tried catching my breath.

  “Existing for one more day, one more hour, even one more minute without you would have been my biggest regret. And you’ve given me an unbreakable desire to be better than what I am. My entire existence is brighter because of you—and you, Aven Casey, are all I will ever want.”

  When Will reached up and touched my cheek, I realized I was crying. I swiped at my eyes.

  “Then you just have to promise me one thing.”

  “What is that?”

  “Equality. Trust me to know what’s best for me. And if you’re going to make a decision that will affect us, tell me. Because I love you, and I don’t want to lose you. For any reason.”

  He smiled again.

  “I swear it.”

  I paused, look
ing around the darkness.

  “Now what?” I half laughed, half sobbed.

  He reached over and took my phone. A song started playing, and I laughed when I recognized it from my dad’s collection. The Beatles. And I Love Her. Will held out his hand.

  “I believe I owe you a dance, Ms. Casey,” he whispered.