Dahlia (Blood Crave Series)

by Christina Channelle

  She was curious to what the man represented. She kept envisioning him all in black saying nothing to her, only staring back with black, charcoal eyes.

  Dahlia’s nightgown and hair began to blow strongly against the breeze. She was glad she tied her hair up, but at the thought, it unraveled and flew out of her hair, the wind taking its claim. Reaching an outstretched hand hoping she could grasp it, the red tie fleetingly caressed her fingertips before it drifted off into the wind.

  Disappointed, she watched it land gently into the pool. Bending to her knees, Dahlia stretched a hand toward the water but was unable to get a hold of it. She watched as the hair tie floated away, finally settling across on the other side. She sighed, her hair heavy on her shoulders as she sat down in front of the pool, sinking her feet into the shallow water as she closed her eyes.

  She stayed like that for a moment, trying to silence her mind. While in this position, she suddenly felt a prickly sensation at the base of her neck and felt a catch in her throat as she realized all the hairs on her skin were again standing on end.

  She wasn’t alone.

  Dahlia inhaled, opened her eyes, and instantly locked gazes with him.

  Green Eyes.

  He stood across the pool from her, just staring. He was dressed in a dark brown leather jacket over a black t-shirt. He wore deep blue jeans that hugged powerful thighs and she knew she’d never be able to outrun him. His green eyes stood out against his tan skin, a color closer to golden caramel, rather than mocha. Dahlia continued to look at him in apprehension, not knowing what to do.

  She should have been frightened of him but she wasn’t. Her heart slowly calmed down after the initial presence of him. She watched him as he slowly bent down and dipped a large hand into the water in front of him, retrieving the hair tie that had floated to the other side.

  Dahlia looked up from the hand to an arm covered by his leather jacket. Looking further, she still couldn’t believe the face that she’d been visualizing in her mind on numerous occasions was right before her. Even from across the pool, his eyes pulled her in.

  Not knowing what to say, she just watched him. She slowly rose from the pool, legs cold, as her feet made wet footprints on the ground. Her nightgown blowing in the wind, Dahlia stood ever so still as she saw him walk around the pool and toward her, almost leisurely, like a cat. He continued to approach her until he was only inches away from her. Dahlia looked up, needing to see him.

  Still, neither uttered a word.

  Hair tumbling around her face, curly tendrils flowed against her skin. Dahlia saw him slowly draw up a hand and caress her cheek, before tucking a strand behind her ear. She silently watched, rendered speechless, as he then took her right hand into his. He uncurled her fingers, and only then did Dahlia realize her hand was tightly curled into a fist. He placed the hair tie into her palm, closing it back up again.

  “I think this belongs to you,” his voice murmured.

  Dahlia, not knowing what to say, just stared at him, wondering how he was in her backyard standing before her.

  I don’t even know his name.

  “Greyson.”

  At hearing his low voice, Dahlia realized her small hand still tucked into his larger one. Reluctantly detaching herself from his grasp, she blinked then looked away from him as she tried to compose herself.

  Her hand suddenly felt cold.

  He seemed to enjoy her internal battle with herself as he smirked. He slowly eyed her up and down, tugging the side of her nightgown. “I didn’t peg you for the nightie-wearing type.”

  Dahlia immediately moved away from his touch as she pursed her lips together into a frown. She wanted nothing more than to smack him on the side of his head. She didn’t even know this man and he so easily pushed her buttons. Her emotions flipped the switch in mere seconds.

  “What are you doing here? And how did you get into my backyard?” Dahlia whispered the words as not to wake anyone up, considering both Sam and his parents’ rooms had windows facing the back. She looked up quickly, eyes wide, hoping not to suddenly see lights flickering on in any of the rooms.

  “I’ve been thinking about you just a little too much,” he said bluntly. Then he paused, eyeing her almost skeptically as he spoke again, “Although I shouldn’t be.”

  Dahlia stepped away from him to compose herself. It was as if he were sucking the oxygen out of the air around them with his words. Again, her emotions switched and she felt like her heart was running a marathon and hated that her body refused to control herself around him.

  Having lost the heat from his grasp earlier, Dahlia hugged her shoulders and sighed shakily. She needed to figure out what was going on. Taking a deep, slow breath, she focused her eyes on his chin.

  She couldn’t look directly up at him.

  “I’m finally going to believe I’m not going crazy.” Dahlia’s gaze refused to waver as she continued.

  “Because that would just suck.”

  She thought she noticed a grin beginning to form on his mouth again but she didn’t dare focus on his smooth lips. “Therefore if I’m not going crazy, then there is some serious shit going on that the average person would not deem normal. I’m going to assume that I’m the focus of said shit that’s going on.” She paused as she inhaled shakily, but continued fervently. “There was the whole wolf thing when I was a kid that I thought was a dream, but really isn’t. Then everything’s going normal and suddenly you pop up, literally, into my life. Then disappear! Not to mention the healing blood debacle, and these supposed memory flashbacks I keep having.

  “And you reading my mind is seriously beginning to piss me off! I would appreciate it if you would refrain from that, and just let me in on what the hell is going on instead of just playing me like a fiddle.” Dahlia finally stopped her long speech at that point and waited for a response as she breathed heavily through her open mouth, frowning.

  At first, Greyson didn’t say anything. He was both amused and impressed by her little speech. Then he dipped his head down so he could catch her gaze.

  “You can stop looking at my chin, baby doll.”

  “What?” Dahlia blinked a couple of times and accidentally glanced straight into his bright green eyes. She swallowed hard but forced herself to continue looking at him. “Did you not hear what I just said? Am I talking to an actual person or a brick wall?”

  She paused as she braced both hands on her hip. “And I am not your baby doll!”

  “Come here.” He ignored her rant as he motioned her over with a wave of his hand.

  “What?” She stared up at him in disbelief at his command.

  Greyson actually looked like he was getting exasperated. “‘What?’ Is that all you can say after such a big monologue? I said, ‘Come here.’” He reached out his hand for her to take.

  Dahlia was a little shocked at his order but she raised her chin high and walked toward him, ignoring his outstretched hand as she crossed her arms in front of her. She stood a couple of inches away from him and raised her face to his, staring him down as she spoke again.

  “What?” She said again, wanting to piss him off.

  Giving another smirk, Greyson raised his hand and caressed her back through the thin material of her nightgown, as if he again knew exactly what was there.

  Her scars burned at his touch.

  She jumped back as he looked at her closely. “Your mark. You were born with these.”

  Dahlia gave him a horrified look but didn’t step away from him touch. “How are you born with scars?” she breathed. Like that was even possible. “And how did you even know that I had them?”

  He ignored her first question and answered abruptly. “Because I have them too.” He turned around and briefly lifted up the bottom of his shirt and leather jacket to reveal the beginnings of two scars mirr
or image to one another at the base of his spine.

  Exactly the same as Dahlia’s.

  She froze by what she saw. Even though she didn’t believe a word he said, she couldn’t deny what was right before her eyes. She moved her hand to touch it, but stopped herself short. Greyson abruptly dropped the hem of his shirt and jacket back down.

  She settled her arms at her sides, replying, “So you were born with those?” She bit her lip as she anxiously waited for his answer, still skeptical.

  Greyson turned back around so he was facing her. “Yes. All of the lapsus are.”

  Dahlia frowned up at him at his reference. “Lapsus? What is that?”

  He narrowed his eyes and smiled grimly. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Damn it,” she started loudly then lowered her voice as she realized the sound would carry. Frustrated, she whispered, “Stop with your vague answers. I want to know what’s going on. I want to know why you’re here.”

  He tilted his head to the side then sighed, his eyes darting away before they came back to her. “I had wanted to hold off on that, at least until the timing was right. But I think someone’s been a little ticked off that I’ve been seeing you…” He paused as he grinned unexpectedly. “…Plus those dirty thoughts you were having about me that night at the party didn’t help.”

  Dahlia froze in shock, blood rushing to her face, as all the thoughts she had about him came back all at once.

  Oh. My. God.

  Greyson ignored Dahlia’s bewildered face as he continued. “So we need to speed up the process a little so they don’t act a bit too hasty because of my actions—and of course your thoughts. Hopefully, it will still work since I think you’re strong enough. We probably won’t have to wait until the exact day when your abilities will be the most potent.” He said the last part as if he were talking to himself.

  Dahlia managed to find her voice after a few false starts. She was so going to ignore his earlier statement. “What process are you talking about?” She began to feel even more freaked out than she already was by his words and took a cautious step back.

  She really didn’t know who this guy was and there should be no reason to feel comfortable around him.

  Greyson saw her hesitation. “Look, I know you have a lot of questions. I can’t answer them all tonight—at least not here, outside. I just need you to be careful, Dahlia. I’ll be watching you as much as I can, but I can’t always be there and you need to stay safe. What happened earlier was just a teaser and it will only get worse.”

  She was at a loss by his words. “Wait—you were still there? You saw me fall in the woods and didn’t help me?”

  Was he into the whole torture thing?

  “I wasn’t there per say but I knew what happened regardless. Going into the forest at night was a careless thing for you to do. You’re lucky Maddox didn’t notice your presence or you didn’t injure yourself even worse with the fall. There are those who would rejoice in your dismissal.” His voice got serious, green eyes going dark.

  She instantly noticed his change in demeanor. “What? Why?”

  Greyson’s eyes bored right into hers as he stated clearly, “There are people that want you dead, Dahlia.”

  She shook her head up at him, miffed. She felt like pushing him out of frustration but instead chose to squeeze her hands into fists. “Yeah, you mentioned that part already. Who?” Eyes wide, Dahlia looked at his serious face. She felt like a broken record, but it was one of the only few words she could muster around him.

  He ignored her as his gaze went to her tightly clenched fists, her tie still dangling in her grasp. He raised an eyebrow at her, which she chose to overlook, as she waited for his answer. “I’m just here to make sure that doesn’t happen. You’re very, very valuable, you know that?”

  “To whom?” Dahlia felt that there was something huge he was leaving out deliberately.

  He gave another sober grin, something he seemed used to giving. “To someone with a lot of power. I’d be here all night trying to explain this to you. I’ll tell you everything but not now.” He sounded rushed, as if he were anxious about something.

  What did he have to be anxious about? He was the one that just mentioned people wanting to kill her, not him. But Dahlia wasn’t done with her questioning. “Why not now?”

  Greyson pointed his index finger toward the large, maple tree that grew in the corner of the backyard. “Because little birdies could be listening in and that wouldn’t be good. Wait for me outside your school when you’re finished today. Wait until everyone’s gone.”

  Little birdies? Dahlia didn’t understand what he was talking about. She ignored his comment as she frowned up at him. “What about Sam?”

  Greyson knew whom she was referring to. He shrugged. “Tell him whatever you want. Just get rid of him. You should stop frowning so much, by the way. You’ll get wrinkles on that pretty face of yours. Now be a good girl and go inside.”

  His serious face suddenly transformed into a smile by this time and she became a bit unglued by his slight bipolar mood swings. She actually had to look away from his smile or else rendered blind by it. It was different from those other smiles he had given earlier. This one made her heart race just a tad bit more.

  “Well, aren’t you charming?” she muttered out of the corner of her mouth, ignoring his reference to her prettiness. Her emotions as a result started to react, her face feeling warm.

  “I try to be, baby doll,” he replied smoothly.

  Dahlia was so annoyed with Greyson and wondered how someone she had just met could evoke such raw emotions from her. Before she opened the sliding door, he spoke up again.

  “Another thing. Keep your mind quiet. You don’t know who could be listening in at any moment.”

  She thought of their first encounter and finally understood what he was getting at earlier. “So you really have been reading my mind.” I had hoped I was wrong about that.

  He nodded. “Yes. You’re easy to read. You can do it as well, you know.”

  “I can?” She thought back to her conversation with Ava. Dahlia really must have been reading her mind.

  “Yes. You just haven’t been trained in it properly.”

  She turned back around so she could look him directly in the face. “You’re going to tell me how you’re doing that, right?”

  Greyson smiled again as he nodded. “Yeah, sure thing.”

  “And how do I keep my mind quiet?”

  He came up to her so he stood very close. Bringing a hand up, he lifted her chin as he whispered in her ear, hot air blazing against her skin. “Imagine the one thing that makes you happy and fill your mind with that thought. Your feelings for that will mask any thoughts you have underneath it.”

  With that, he vanished right before her eyes, once again leaving Dahlia flabbergasted.

  Closing the door, she rushed upstairs to her room and slid under her covers, lying on her back as she looked up at the ceiling. There was no way she could fall back asleep.

  Imagine the one thing that made me happy?

  Dahlia knew the one answer to that. It was her writing. She imagined her words filling up her mind and she smiled, thinking that whoever tried to read her thoughts would be confused with the countless words in her head.

  That was what she had been thinking when the alarm on her nightstand began to ring loudly and Dahlia groaned as she turned in her bed to shut it off. She was shocked to see the clock display that it was seven in the morning, realizing she must have dozed off.

  Taking a deep breath, she got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Although her face looked tired in the mirror, her body was on edge and she prayed for the school day to be over as soon as possible. She had so many questions running through her mind, but staring back at her serious reflection, she kne
w one thing for certain.

  She’d get all her answers today.

  Chapter 12

  “You look like shit.”

  Dahlia paused and glared at Sam who just stared back at her from across the kitchen table. He munched away on a piece of toast as she sipped her orange juice. She slowly set the glass down before deciding to answer, licking chapped lips.

  She was exhausted.

  “Why thank you, Sam. I appreciate your opinion.”

  “You don’t look like you got much sleep.” He continued to chew on his toast as he spoke up again, once more stating the obvious.

  Sam was always very blunt.

  He was right, though. With the constant dreams and the late encounter with Greyson, sleep pretty much was put on the back burner last night. She had hoped a bit of concealer would have helped, but apparently not.

  Thank you, generic drug store makeup.

  Dahlia was about to reply, but Deb and Glen walked through the kitchen doors at that moment, causing her to pause. She hoped Sam kept to his word and hadn’t mentioned anything from last night, but she was still uneasy. She glanced nervously over at the garbage bin hoping no one noticed her bag of bloodied clothes.

  “Hi, honey.” Deb planted a kiss on the back of Dahlia’s head and then attempted to do the same with her son but he dodged her approach. Glen counter attacked by messing up Sam’s full head of hair, causing Sam to frown in return.

  “Hey, watch the hair!” He pointed toward his head as he stared back at his father in indignation, shaking his brown curls. “I work hard for this, you know.”

  “Sure you do,” Glen laughed loudly, so similar to Sam’s, and nodded his dark head toward Dahlia in hello as he winked. “Good morning, Dahlia.”

  She sighed in relief. It seemed that neither he nor Deb knew what had gone on last night or suspected anything out of the ordinary. She beamed widely in return, which completely transformed her face, making her radiant. “Morning!”