Dahlia (Blood Crave Series) (9 page)

He’d had enough to last him a lifetime.

Turning his face back to Maddox as the car sped off, Greyson continued. “You know we have less than two weeks until our powers are the strongest—until her power is the strongest—in order to perform the ritual. Day by day, she will be realizing her abilities, which finally are activating. It would be pointless to take her. For now, we track her and make sure she doesn’t end up killed.”

Two weeks time would mark the anniversary of their existence as lapsus. The one day out of the year when their powers were most potent. Dahlia was becoming more aware of her gifts everyday due to the proximity of other lapsus nearby and it was necessary in order for the plan to take effect. She had been too young before but now, according to Merrick, was the perfect time.

Everything had to be according to plan.

“Okay, so the ritual’s like, two weeks away. Why don’t I just speed up the process? Or we could have fun with her until then, couldn’t we?” His childish attitude suddenly disappeared as Greyson saw the dangerous spark that came across Maddox’s dark brown eyes at the thought, almost matching the gleam in his earrings.

“Enough,” Greyson demanded as the smirk immediately left Maddox’s face. “We do things according to plan, alright? You speeding up the process will just interrupt the timeline. Don’t think I didn’t know what you did back there with Dahlia.”

Maddox possessed the ability to alter time, speeding it up or slowing it down when necessary. An hour or two probably wasn’t such a big deal, but fast forwarding two weeks into the future could potentially mess up things for Merrick.

Greyson wasn’t particularly in the mood for a pissed off Merrick.

“I just wanted to play with her a little bit,” explained Maddox as he gave the side of his head a scratch. “I’m bored shitless in this town. I can’t wait to be done with this and go back into the city.”

“Just stop with the theatrics and do what you’re supposed to be doing—keeping watch. Nothing more, nothing less. Got it?” He gave Maddox a hard stare, showing that he was dead serious.

“Yeah, sure,” answered Maddox quickly, his eyes quickly narrowing as he echoed Greyson’s words. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

Greyson nodded his head in agreement as they walked away from the house then disappeared without a sound. His mind briefly flashed back to the image of Dahlia and their interaction in the large backyard as he tried to make sense of what he was feeling. He had read her thoughts, knew that although frightened, she was attracted to him. His mind, too, seemed to reciprocate some of those foreign emotions. When he heard her thoughts say she wanted to taste his blood? He was alarmed at first but had to admit to himself that the idea seemed almost…intriguing.

He frowned as his chest started to beat quickly. Then he shook his head, rejecting what he was feeling as he looked over at Maddox who thankfully didn’t notice his change in demeanor. Now if only Greyson could follow his own advice and stick to the plan.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Chapter 8

Dahlia sat alone on top of the bleachers, gazing  off into the distance, a finger gently tapping the side of her right thigh. Staring at nothing in particular, her thoughts were filled by one person, along with everything else that seemed to be going on in her life.

After that strange encounter behind Meg’s house with Green Eyes (it wasn’t like she had gotten his name or anything) she went home to a night filled with countless dreams. One dream rolled right into another, making it a restless night. She yawned then, rubbing her eyes in fatigue as if providing the evidence.

To top things off, her dreams weren’t even of
him
, which she would have expected, or the usual ones involving the amber-eyed wolf and that strange desire for blood. Instead, they were of some new unknown presence.

Yes, she knew her dreams were not something new, but it was like Green Eyes triggered something deep inside of her because they felt more than just simply dreams.

Almost like a distant memory.

She sighed then glanced down at the laptop as it sat on her lap and re-read the entry that she had just entered.

I didn’t even know what was real anymore. These dreams just refused to leave me alone. They were alike to that excessive person on the other side of the door that just wouldn’t stop knocking until you let them in. That bully that kept hounding you until you gave them your lunch money. That phone call that just wouldn’t stop ringing.

It was as if stepping into Cedar Oaks made my subconscious mind act on overdrive. As if my dream world was where my real self belonged, and my everyday life was nothing more than a dream with an alternate version of myself as its main cast. At first, I took it with a grain of salt. These dreams of wolves and blood were a form of escapism for me. A way out from the reality of being that poor, little orphan girl, all alone with no one to love her. They were an anchor of sort, keeping me afloat within a tumultuous ocean filled with things that I just didn’t understand.

Even though they themselves I found confusing.

They evoked so many emotions out of me that I have never felt until recently, something foreign yet familiar at the same time.

Need.

Want.

Desire.

Now they were a tormentor of sort, these dreams. They made me a slave to them, made me question my sanity. Because if everything that I had experienced in my waking life thus far was real, these strange anomalies, then what did that make of my dreams?

What did that make of me?

My dreams were becoming more vivid every day. That canvas which was once blank was slowly being covered by the paint of red, yellow and blue hues.

The one I had the night before was surprising because it was new. I was alone but felt that someone was near. This formidable presence exuded so much power that it literally made me want to disappear from his view. But I couldn’t. I had to turn around and face the being that scared me more than anything in this world.

He was an oxymoron of sort. Familiar but not. He stood before me, yet seemed so unreal. Both light and dark. Hauntingly beautiful. He was very tall with a mysterious cloak around him. His skin was very pale—too pale—almost transparent with veins easily seen underneath. His hair was long to his shoulders and as dark as night. But it was his eyes that drew me in the most. They were blacker than black and in the dream, I was unable to take my eyes away from him.

Then I woke up and that was it.

Why he was suddenly in my thoughts I did not know. All I knew was that before I stepped foot in Cedar Oaks I had some semblance of a normal life, albeit different.

But I handled it.

Now I had people hearing my thoughts, me hearing theirs, this feeling of being watched, losing time, sudden dreams of a dark-haired stranger, and Green Eyes.

The guy who appeared then disappeared without a trace right before me.

His presence won’t leave my mind. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind conjured him up. Then I’d ask myself, was it him that had been watching me? If in fact, someone was watching me?

If I had to bet on it, I’d say yes.

How did he even know my name? And that rambling about me being different and belonging with “us.” Who was “us?”

Was I really in danger? Should I listen to the warnings of a stranger to beware of those near me? My mind constantly ran a mile a minute with the conversation that we had and I wondered how I should be feeling right now. How could one person make me feel both secure and scared out of my wits all at the same time?

But I needed to see him again, no matter the consequences.

I knew it was stupid to be thinking like this but I couldn’t help myself. He pulled emotions out of me that I didn’t know I even possessed. Those same emotions from my dreams of need, want, desire. I wanted to taste his blood, for crying out loud. What does that even mean?

It was the strangest thing, really. I had been hiding so many things about myself from everyone, kept everyone at bay all these years. But in that one night, in that moment when he touched me so intimately? It was as if he knew everything about me, even more than I knew of myself.

It was the real reason that I refused to show anyone my back all this time. Why I wouldn’t dare choose gym as an elective. Why I preferred t-shirts and jeans. Why I couldn’t have anyone get truly close to me.

Because of my scars.

Dahlia stopped reading as she thought back to the sensation of Green Eyes’ hands on her back. Her mind still attempted to formulate what actually happened that night. It seemed so long ago but it was only three days since she last saw him.

She glanced up from the words to focus on the pickup soccer game that was going on between a few of the guys in her year, Sam included. She noticed Deacon, in his signature t-shirt and shorts, and Lee, who looked different without his glasses and wore sweatpants instead of his usual formal wear. They both played alongside Sam except for Taylor, who sat on the sidelines, watching the game intently.

At that moment, Taylor looked up and caught her eye so she smiled and waved in his direction. She finally got a good look at his thin face, which had a forlorn expression to it as his unruly black hair blew in the wind. Taylor didn’t wave in return and just stared at her intently, unsmiling, then glanced back at the game, completely ignoring her.

Dahlia frowned, wondering why he had blatantly disregarded her. She thought back to when they had first met. She couldn’t think of anything that she had said or done to make him react that way.

Huh.

She slowly lowered her arm and placed it on her lap, focusing her gaze on Sam whom she saw quickly dart in between Lee as he tried to make a shot on net. He hit the post as Dahlia saw a look of frustration grow on his face, aggressively running a hand through his hair.

Sighing, she rested her chin in her hand and forgot about the odd exchange she just had with Taylor—maybe he was PMSing—and thought back to Green Eyes.

That was all she could really think of him as. Green Eyes. Although he frightened her, he intrigued her all at the same time and she found herself drawn to him. This was, of course, a stupid emotion to be feeling. If she knew what was good for her, she should scream as loud as she could the next time she saw him.

She had a feeling she’d be seeing him again.

No matter how her mind tried to logically explain how irrational she was being, her heart had other ideas. She never felt this way before, her heart racing at just the thought of him—and she didn’t even really know what he truly looked like, it was so dark. For all she knew, he recently escaped the local loony bin, had a third eye on his forehead or, even worse, a unibrow.

Laughing quietly, Dahlia didn’t notice someone was sitting behind her on the bleachers. But at the sound of shuffling feet, she looked up to see the same girl who had gotten on her nerves last week. Her dark sunglasses were still in place, as per usual.

“Hey, Banana Girl.” Red lips grinned unapologetically as Dahlia looked up into the face of her disturbance.

At this point, only mild irritation reflected on Dahlia’s face. Considering the past week, this was a welcomed encounter. Plus she really didn’t have the energy for any kind of battle, no matter how annoying.

Dahlia wondered if the girl knew more than she let on. She wanted to ask her about that time at lunch but her voice caught in her throat as she realized she could potentially sound super foolish if the girl had no idea what she was talking about.

What the heck’s her name, anyway?

Dahlia turned her head back to the soccer field, noticing the blustering wind. Her mind went back to when they last saw each other, the parting words whispered in her mind. Considering the recent event that occurred since their meeting, she felt deep in her heart that she really had heard the girl’s thoughts.

The question was whether the girl knew about this or had no clue what was going on. She decided to play it by ear and test the waters.

“Hello.”

At the polite reply Dahlia gave, the girl was at a loss for words. She quickly recovered, lifting her hand in welcome even though Dahlia couldn’t see. “The name’s Ava.”

Ah.
“Dahlia.” Twisting around to face her, she offered her hand in return. As their hands touched, a huge electric shock passed between them as if they had just caused friction by rubbing a balloon.

“Whoa.” Dahlia lifted her hand away in surprise at the sudden sensation.

“Sorry about that.” Although Ava’s voice was rather flippant, her face stilled for a moment at the contact, surprised as well. Turning her head to the side, she suddenly seemed lost in thought, her face scrunched up in concentration.

Feeling awkward at the sudden silence, Dahlia took this moment to examine Ava. She was really quite beautiful. Her midnight black hair was long and wild, as if she had just taken a roll on the ground. Her skin was that of a porcelain doll—ivory and unblemished with a slight dimple in her chin. Her lips painted the exact shade of red as the first time they had met. Again, she had on a pair of huge sunglasses that almost took up her entire face. Dahlia couldn’t see the color of her eyes but she imagined them to be something striking, like blue. Or green.

Green.

Suddenly she found herself lost in thought again at the memory of Green Eyes, a small grin slowly growing on her face. Ava cleared her throat from above Dahlia’s head and glancing up, saw the bemused expression on the girl’s face. Giving her head a slight shake, Dahlia bashfully replied, “Sorry. I went away for a little bit—I tend to do that a lot.”

“Hey, no worries. I drifted off too.” Ava leaned back on the bleachers, staring up into the bright sky as the sun beat down on their skin. “Now the question is, D, where did you drift off to?”