Chapter 9
VALEN
“I wish to ride the horse with wheels,” I blurt out.
Ava sputters and chokes on the burrito she’s eating. “Come again?” She wipes delicately at her lips before scooping up the particles of food from the counter and putting them on the edge of her plate.
“The horse with wheels. Can you teach me how to drive it?” I tilt my head in question, not sure what she’s not comprehending.
She continues to stare at me in bewilderment, and I look out the window to see one conveniently parked on the side of the road. I motion her over and point at it. Ava giggles when she spots it, the sound quickly morphing into a boisterous laugh.
“I don’t see what’s funny.” I cross my arms as she loses it.
“A motorcycle.” Ava wipes tears from her eyes and pats my arm. “It’s called a motorcycle, but points for creativity.”
She’s been touching me more lately, and I don’t have the urge to cringe like I used to. Even though I know she’s not actually using magic, the way she affects me still feels like witchcraft.
“Whatever it may be, I want to learn how to operate it. It seems fun … and freeing.” Two things my life hasn’t possessed for an incredibly long time.
Ava finishes off her food and washes her hands in the sink. Around the bulge in her cheek, she manages to garble out, “Onward, then.”
As she heads for the door with a purpose, I scurry after her, shocked that she agreed and we’re going this quickly.
“You own one of these motorcycles?” The word feels strange in my mouth. I prefer horse with wheels. Makes the most sense to me.
“Hell no,” Ava replies breezily. “We’re going to start with learning how to drive a car, which I do have. Motorcycles can be dangerous, so we’re walking before you learn how to run.” “I am confused. I thought you were teaching me how to drive, not run?” I question.
Ava turns toward me with an open mouth.
“Next lesson after learning to drive is going to be expressions and their meanings.”
We reach the garage, and she leads me to her car, a carriage with wheels if you ask me.
She pushes a magic button and lights flash. “Door’s unlocked,” she says in a singsong tone when I stand there flabbergasted.
I reach for the handle and swing it open. I haven’t sat inside one of these since I’ve been back in the real world. There’s plenty on the road, but I find them scary. People act like they’re going to hit you with them. I might be indestructible, but pain is not pleasant.
I settle into the seat. The car smells of her—a mix of roses and candy and pure sweetness. I inhale a big whiff, and she sends a mystified expression my way.
“Are you okay?”
“I am good.” I smooth my hands down my hips and flex my fingers.
“I’m good,” she says.
“That is what I said.”
Ava sighs, a tone that makes her sound tired, but there’s a smile on her lips, so I find myself confused about what she’s feeling.
“No, I was correcting you. You don’t have to say I am good.
You can just say I’m good. The “I am” shortens to I’m.
I’m good. I’ve heard you use the contraction before, so don’t act like you haven’t. ”
“I’m good,” I say to pacify her.
“See?” She pats my arm encouragingly and releases me.
I stare at her hand. My skin feels heated beneath it, humming beneath the surface, screaming for more touch from my mate.
But I cannot push her, and I need time of my own to heal from the horrors I’ve survived.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it? Now buckle up. ”
“Buckle…?”
She practically sprawls across me and reaches around me for something … a strap. She tugs it over my torso and snaps it into place.
“That’s a seat belt.” She points at it. “It keeps you safe.”
I pull it away from my chest. “It is very constraining. How is a flimsy piece of fabric going to keep us safe?”
She laughs. “That’s the point, and it just does.”
She pushes a button, and the car roars to life, sounding like a wild beast coming awake.
We drive for an indeterminate amount of time while she tells me about breaking legs, spilling beans, and other phrases that don’t make sense.
I find I love her incessant talking, especially after such a long period of time of silence.
Being alone with nothing but your thoughts makes for terrible conversation.
Arriving at our destination, Ava pulls the car into an abandoned field far away from the city. Pulling on a stick in the center to stop the car she turns to me.
“Okay, quick rundown on the basics of the car and what things do.”
She points at various pieces of machinery, and I absorb every detail as she runs through them.
Steering wheel—for turning in the direction you want to go.
Turn signal—for indicating which way you’ll be making a turn.
Next she goes over something she laughingly refers to as the PRNDL.
I’ve always been a quick learner, so I commit everything she tells me to memory.
“Think you’ve got this?” Ava asks and opens up the driver’s door.
“Yes,” I reply confidently. “I have got this.” I know my stilted contraction-less English makes her laugh so I purposely say it and am rewarded with a blinding smile.
“I’ve,” she corrects. “I’ve got this.” She smacks my arm when she realizes I’m messing with her. “All right, smarty pants.”
I settle into the seat she’s vacated and buckle my seat belt as she taught me. My eyes briefly flutter at the floral scent I’m encompassed in.
Ready to go, I pull down on the middle handle and push my foot against the gas pedal. We jolt forward, and I hurry to push the brake, which only yanks us against the seat belts once more.
“Whoa, there.” Ava holds a hand against her chest and lets out a breath. “You have to take it easy. The pedals are sensitive, and it doesn’t take much force to go.” With an encouraging smile from her, I try once again.
This time I push gently against the pedal and the car starts to move forward slowly. I keep it at the same speed as we roll across the field. Once I feel comfortable, I go faster and make a slow circle to turn around and go back the way we came.
“Look at you go!” Ava whoops. “Let’s go a little faster even.”
From there, my confidence only grows, and I attempt harder maneuvers such as backing up and parallel parking between trees. Ava’s a patient teacher and cheers me on, which feels nice. I think I like having someone in my corner.
“Okay, I think we should take a break,” Ava says after a while.
Darkness has begun to set in, and I didn’t even notice, so set on learning how to drive.
“There’s something I think you’ll like out here.” Ava motions for me to join her outside the car. She pulls a blanket from the back and heads out to the field.
The blanket makes a snapping sound as she opens it up, and it gently falls with the breeze to lie on the ground. She pats a spot beside her, and I lie on my back as she does the same.
“Look.” Ava points above us.
My throat threatens to close up from the emotion choking me.
Hundreds upon hundreds of twinkling lights fill the night sky. In the city, you can barely see the stars. This is far beyond that. With the openness of the field and the vast expanse of night sky without smog and buildings, I feel safe and comfortable. Having Ava here with me makes it even better.
“That’s the Big Dipper.” Ava points at a particular cluster of stars.
“There’s Orion.” I point at another set.
“You know constellations?” Ava turns her head to look at me in question.
“Of course. When do you think constellations were named? Yesterday?” I scoff. “I might be new to your world, but I’m not new to this world.”
“How should I know? It’s not my skill set, plus you never tell me anything about you or your past,” she mumbles and goes back to stargazing.
I ponder what she’s said and realize she’s right. After my capture and imprisonment, I’ve withheld information from everyone. Not trusting is a hard habit to break, but Ava is my mate and she’s shown me no reason thus far not to.
“My full name is Valentine.” I hesitate but continue. “I came to your world to find someone and was … intercepted before I could finish it out. I was imprisoned for quite a long time, and I’m not sure of the full reason why.”
Speaking the words I haven’t up until now feels like barbs in my throat. At the same time, it feels freeing, like the chains around me are slowly loosening.
Ava’s silent, taking in what I’ve said, and I’m shocked when she doesn’t reply. She must know how hard it is for me and simply takes my hand in hers. It rests against the soft plaid blanket, and I feel her thumb rub against a scar.
Glancing at her, I watch as the stars reflect in her sky blue eyes and her silky hair lies against the blanket.
“Starlight,” I murmur.
“Hmm?” Ava mumbles without looking at me.
That’s what you remind me of.
“You are starlight,” I explain. “I’ve been wondering what you remind me of, and it is not the sunshine. It’s starlight. Beautiful and magical and awe-inspiring.”
She gives me a tiny smile. “Thanks, Valen—er, Valentine.”
“I prefer Valen.” I turn my gaze back to the sky.
“Valen it is,” she says in a soft voice. “Don’t let Zav learn your full name is Valentine, though. You’ll never hear the end of it.”
My lips twitch in amusement at the reminder of the vampire. “He’s a bit odd.”
Ava snorts and sits up, resting her head in her hand so she can look at me. “You have no idea.” It’s quiet between us for a few minutes before she says, “Are there things you want to learn to do? Besides learning to drive a motorcycle?”
I think on her question before responding.
“Learn more about you.”
“Me?” Ava sounds surprised. “I’m nothing special.” She brushes a strand of hair out of her eye and fails.
I reach out and tuck it behind her ear, giving her a look.
“I highly doubt that.” After a beat, I ask her the question I’ve been wondering. “How are you doing with the whole witch thing?”
Ava glances at me and sighs before gazing back up at the stars.
“Okay, I guess. I’ve been trying not to think about it because it feels so outlandish.
I know you and Zav are vampires, but me being a witch sounds silly.
” She shrugs a delicate shoulder, and I resist tracing her collarbone peeking out from where her shirt has slipped. “I keep hoping maybe you’re wrong.”
“I am not wrong,” I state with a bluntness I perhaps should’ve softened. “I have yet to find any substantial information but will continue to search,” I assure her. “We’ll get to the bottom of your heritage.”
Ava situates herself on her side to look at me, and I find the full weight of her stare slightly alarming.
Ironic since I stare at her all the time.
“You’re convinced I’m a witch, huh?” Ava muses.
“It would be kind of cool to be part of something bigger. Even though I’m the bubbly, outgoing one in most of my relationships, I can’t help but feel like a fish out of water.
I use my personality to compensate for not knowing my purpose.
Nobody knows what they’re doing in the world, but sometimes I feel like I’m missing something and haven’t found my spark yet.
” She slaps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to word vomit on you. ”
“Word … vomit?” My tongue moves over the words unfamiliarly. I know of vomit and what it consists of, and I know what words are, but putting them together the way she stated it is rather baffling.
She smiles softly. “Sorry, it’s an expression. It just means that I dumped a lot of my thoughts and feelings on you at once.”
“Ah. Makes sense.”
Sort of.
She trails a finger over a vein that stands out on the top of my hand. I wait for the urge to flinch to overwhelm me but don’t jump when she makes contact. Her delicate finger feels featherlight over my scarred skin.
I’m making progress.
“Maybe that spark is more than metaphorical.”
“Maybe,” Ava hums.
We spend another hour under the cover of night and lie in silence, watching the twinkling stars, the one next to me brighter than all those in the sky.