Nocte Yin: Anti-Villain, Anti-Hero and Anti-Everything Else

Chapter Twenty-Five

If Nocte were to close her eyes, she would feel the world fade into nothing. And in this nothing, there would only be his white eyes and white hair, his white complexion and white lab coat. There would only be the hands she could never touch, the body she could never hold, and the face she could never truly see. It would only be a blur, a blur of magic trees, starry nights and an illusion that broke her heart.

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Their car hit a stray rock and Nocte opened her eyes, listening to the stone bounce off the underside of the vehicle. It was a clanging much too loud so late in the night — early in the morning — and both she and Doctor acknowledged it as such, sharing a wary look. She was in the seat by the window, one arm on the door and the other around Chantée while the Lucent sat across from her, just as wide awake and aware as she was — of the night, morning, and the hours they had already spent on the highway moving south.

“Your glasses,” Doctor said quietly.

Chantée, with her head on Nocte’s lap and feet on Alex’s, shifted in her sleep. They held still until the low rhythm of the car lulled the girl back to her slumber, a soft snoring emitting from her lips. The girl had been tried many times over that night — morning, and they were determined to let her rest, to give her a little reprieve from the nightmare they lived in.

Determined to give her a little peace and quiet.

They waited until the girl’s breathing evened out before Doctor picked up the topic again.

“What happened to your glasses?” he asked.

“Broken,” Nocte replied dully, “and lost.”

He smiled plaintively. “Aren’t we all?” he mused in a faint murmur.

They shared a bitter, almost dry, laugh, quiet and intimate, but the slight shaking of Doctor’s body caused Siren to moan in opposition. Immediately the hero froze, his shoulders growing stiff to accommodate the siren’s pretty, little head resting on him. He had just grown used to her sidling up to him in her sleep, no longer embarrassed to have the beautiful celebrity suddenly being familiar with him, but the way her lips (still glossy) parted seemed to have disrupted order again.

Priscilla, awake and suspicious of every little noise and movement, narrowed her eyes at the Light and the pop star while Achindra pretended to be asleep by her side. As skilled as the Master of Juncture City was, Achindra wasn’t fooling any Erisiren in the car, and neither would she have fooled the prophet if he were awake. While the vampires had taken the seats along the left side of the small limo, Ewan had claimed master over the seats to the right, stretched along the length of the leather seats, his sickly pallor garnering some reprieve and colour while unconscious.

Doctor and Siren had the seats facing the back of the car while Alex, Chantée and Nocte had the ones facing the front. Alex, with Chantée lying in-between him and Nocte, was the only one weaving between sleep and wake. Every time he closed his eyes, he would doze and his torso would lean forward, almost weightless. Just as he would be about to teeter off the seat, he would jolt awake and check over his slumbering sister once again. Alex, like Nocte, refused to sleep.

Only Nocte and Doctor were truly awake, for as awake as Priscilla was, she was blinded by her temper and paranoia. As awake as Achindra was, she was sightless due to her single-mindedness in protecting Chantée and seeing the Erisirens as obstacles to this protectiveness. Only Nocte and Doctor were truly awake, sight sharp (save for a slight blur in Nocte vision due to her missing glasses), hearing high and awareness elevated. They could, if they so wanted, kill their elven driver and steal the car, but Doctor waited patiently out of his respect for Nocte and her plans, unvoiced and unknown.