Dahlia (Blood Crave Series) (6 page)

I barely felt the pain.

The entire time this was happening, the wolf had stopped whimpering and just openly stared at me with an almost human expression on its face. Looking into its piercing eyes, I instinctively drew my bloody forearm above its head as my blood dripped into the wolf’s mouth. My gaze latched onto the wolf lapping up the liquid substance, as if quenching its thirst. I stayed in that position with the animal for some time, my face one of serenity, then withdrew my arm as I slowly stood up. Taking a few unsteady steps back, I woke up from my daze as I was no longer watching myself, and now back in my own body. I kept my gaze on the wolf, and for a heartbeat, a slight inhalation of breath, there were no movements coming from it. Then suddenly the wolf was on all fours as it observed me. We gazed at each other for the longest time, the wolf and I, communicating with no sound.

What captivated me the most were its eyes. They were chilling, a deep amber that seemed to glow unnaturally within their depths.

The wolf swiftly turned then ran off deeper into the forest, leaving me all alone. I stood still for a moment then remembered my bloody wound, causing me to inspect my arm. It was then that I noticed the cut I had given myself earlier was no longer there. Confused, I wiped fervently at my red-stained skin finding no wound at all. There were no traces of the previous few minutes ever happening except for the streaks of blood left on my skin and staining my hands.

Marking me.

That, was the moment when I knew I was different.

Chapter 5

“Hey, Banana Girl.”

Rinsing her hands at the sink, Dahlia looked up into the washroom mirror, locking gazes with eyes concealed behind a pair of black sunglasses. Accompanying the shades was a red mouth curved into a wicked smirk, as if somewhat mocking.

I guess a night’s sleep doesn’t rid oneself of embarrassment.

Shutting off the pipes, Dahlia reached for a paper towel and quickly dried her hands, then turned toward the washroom door as she tossed the paper towel in the trash, ignoring the comment.

“Don’t run away now, Banana Girl.”

Oh, she was definitely mocking.

Feeling slightly annoyed at this new nickname, she turned back toward the raven-haired girl who was dressed in black tights, a tight black dress shirt, and red pumps which highlighted her outfit. Dahlia said nothing at first, just eyed the girl in her dark attire before she replied, “Would you mind?”

Tilting her head to the side with hands on her hip the girl answered, “Mind what?”

“Getting a life.” With that, she quickly exited the washroom door, not looking back at the expression on the girl’s face, which was one of disbelief at just being insulted. The girl recovered fast and followed suit, quickening her pace as she caught up to Dahlia in the busy hallway in her high heels.

“I’m impressed.” Dahlia, not realizing the girl had continued to pursue her, gave a start at the voice that was right next to her ear.

“You startle very easily, don’t you,” the girl observed.

Dahlia was becoming more and more bothered by the minute. She stopped walking, squared her shoulders, and looked the girl directly in the face. Since she couldn’t see the girl’s eyes, she focused instead on the slight dimple in her chin. “So what if I do? What’s it to you?”

“Just making a mere observation—totally objective, I swear.” Dahlia rolled her eyes at the girl’s comment then, shaking her head, made her way to the cafetorium. She again stopped abruptly, wondering why this girl was still following her, steaming slightly in annoyance.

All day she had been thinking of the night before, why she had such a strong sense of someone being out there with her, watching her. She knew it was ridiculous, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling off and was irritated with herself at this constant restlessness. Her nightly dreams were getting the best of her, something she had been experiencing as of late. They were bringing back memories of her past, something she wanted to keep buried.

That night in the forest was the bane of her existence.

For years, it made Dahlia feel like she was going crazy. Everyone kept telling her it was all her imagination. That it never really happened. The first foster parents to take her in thought she was delusional after she told them the story of the wolf.

So they sent her back.

The same went for the second and third sets of so-called parents. Perhaps that was to be expected when a child emerged from the forest caked in dry blood and wild stories about a wolf healed by her own blood. No injuries found on Dahlia’s body and no evidence of the mysterious wolf existing.

No one believed a word she said. She eventually stopped talking about it and put any memory of wolves, blood, and miraculously healing wounds tucked away in the deep corner of her mind, almost as if it never happened.

But these stupid dreams kept badgering her.

Like the one where she appeared seven or eight and she saw a butterfly whose wings were mangled up. Instinctively, she bit the fleshy part of her fingertip hard, drawing blood. She ignored the sting of her finger as she cradled its delicate wings. Squeezing the blood out of her finger, she saw as it slowly trickled over the butterfly—drip, drip, drip. Then she stood, watching, as the butterfly lay still in her palm.

Thinking that it had drowned in her own blood, she frowned, saddened that the beautiful creature was dead because of her. Then all of a sudden, the wings moved, tickling the center of her palm. Surprised, she fell back on her behind as the butterfly’s wings fluttered strongly out of her hand, watching it fly away in a whirlwind of colors.

Then there was the dream with the old, dried up plant. Large, hazel eyes were held captive by the deep, red color of blood as it pooled at the edge of Dahlia’s fingertip. Then the bead of blood dropped lovingly onto the dirt as she watched it slowly absorb the fluid. She only had to wait a moment before the plant started to bloom, as if treated by all the water and sun in the world.

I am not going crazy.

No. These were just vivid dreams, not memories of some sort of past. Her blood did not hold any supernatural powers of any kind.

But to be on the safe side, Dahlia made it a point to be cautious at all times, preventing any injuries from occurring in her young life. She was lucky, not being very accident-prone—not even a scratch. She didn’t want to face the potential outcome, because this was truly nothing more than an overactive imagination of a girl who wanted to escape from her reality.

Wasn’t it?

Dahlia shook her head away from these persistent thoughts as she focused on the fact that she was at present standing in front of the cafetorium doors with this nuisance still beside her.

This girl irritated her—a lot. It also didn’t help that Dahlia was ravenous, her stomach protesting from the lack of food and her mood affected as a result. She was prone to get snappy whenever hungry.

Pushing through the doors, Dahlia looked straight ahead, not looking at the girl currently stalking her. “What is it that you want?”

“Oh, just making polite conversation.” Side by side, they made their way over to the food line. Dahlia reached for a red food tray while grabbing an apple, bottle of orange juice and a tuna sandwich. She tried to ignore the presence beside her, but couldn’t help but stare at the amount of food the raven-haired girl was packing on her own tray. A burger with fries, two cans of pop, bag of chips, a brownie, and a slice of pizza. She suddenly glanced over at Dahlia, catching her gawking in dismay. A chocolate bar dangled from her hand as she shrugged at Dahlia’s expression. “What? I like to eat.”

Dahlia understood the urge to eat but this girl took it to the extreme. “You can say that again,” she grumbled under her breath as she paid the lunch lady, but the girl still managed to hear.

“What can I say? I have a high metabolism.”

Thinking this was the end of their conversation, Dahlia moved on to find a seat in the corner, away from the rest of the crowd. She looked around, miserable that she couldn’t find Sam or any of his friends to sit with. They probably ditched her to eat out. Grumpily setting her tray on the empty table, she took a seat then picked up her sandwich. She was just about to take a bite when—

“So what were you dreaming about?”

Rolling her eyes, she looked up into a pair of—yet again—dark sunglasses. Why she felt the need to wear them indoors was beyond Dahlia. She hoped it wasn’t some sort of new trend. The girl actually had the nerve to take the seat opposite her, food and all. Opening up a bag of chips, she took a few and started munching away, eyeing Dahlia expectantly as she waited for her answer.

Dahlia finally registered the girl’s words. “What?” she exclaimed. She stared suspiciously at the girl, her heart beating rapidly.

How did she know anything about her dreams?

“You know—the whole daydreaming in class yesterday before you were so rudely interrupted by cranky, old Mr. Lawson.” Dahlia breathed a sigh of relief then chastised herself on her stupidity. Obviously, the girl wouldn’t know anything about her nightly dreams.

“What was it about? I bet it was something sexy. We
were
in sex education, after all. Although I think they’re a few years late on giving the information, am I right?” A sly grin again formed on her mouth, followed by her blatantly stuffing her face with food.

Dahlia stared silently at the girl for a moment, mouth opened slightly. She finally managed to find her voice. “How is that any of your business?” she asked incredulously. She was shocked how blunt this girl was and amazed at how it was possible for someone to be able to inhale so much food without choking. Dahlia was also embarrassed over the fact that at present, she had no relations with the opposite sex.

Try never.

The girl gave another shrug. “Just curious, I guess.”

“Well, you know what they say about curiosity,” retorted Dahlia as she tried to change the subject.

She finally managed to take a bite of her sandwich, but what quickly followed was a burst of laughter that erupted from the girl’s mouth. It was as if Dahlia was on set of some late night comedy show and had just given the biggest joke of the year.

Surprised, Dahlia almost choked on her food.
Okay, what I just said was
not
that funny.
She quickly reached for her orange juice, taking a huge gulp. Wiping her mouth with the sleeves of her shirt, she cleared her throat, pounding her chest roughly. “What? What’s so hilarious?” She felt self-conscious by all the startled glances and stares that came her way at the girl’s loud spectacle.

As soon as the laughter started, it ended abruptly. The girl looked in Dahlia’s direction, making her a little unnerved by the attention. Even with the sunglasses on, it was difficult for Dahlia to look away.

The girl lifted one corner of her mouth, her attempt at an unamusing smile. “Curiosity never killed the cat, little girl. It was chewed up into itty, bitty pieces by the big, bad wolf.”

At that comment, Dahlia was taken aback by the wolf reference. She could have sworn the girl winked at her from behind the shades as she got up from the desk and casually strolled away. Lifting her arm in farewell, she sauntered off, leaving her entire pile of unfinished food on the table as her voice echoed in the room.

“See you around, Banana Girl.”

Dahlia froze in her position as the girl spoke the words, then shook her head at her crazy thought. Because it was just that.

Crazy.

In the huge crowd occupying the large room, her words should sound muffled by the noise. As the girl walked away, though, Dahlia heard those words as clear as day. Like she had communicated to Dahlia
within her mind
.

No. Freaking. Way.

Suddenly that spot in her mind that she desperately tried to keep at bay for all these years begged to resurface as feelings of immense need began to pulsate from within. It yearned for the one thing that would quench its thirst.

Blood.

Dahlia squeezed her eyes tight as she silently yelled at it to go away, breathing in and out through her nose. She focused on the fact that she was sitting in a cafetorium filled with students and her body slowly began to cool down. Licking dry lips, she ravaged through the rest of her lunch, even finishing off the chips of her former companion as her body began to feel somewhat normal. She took calm breaths as she thought of the girl who had just triggered something inside of her by speaking in her mind. Because she did just speak in Dahlia’s mind.

There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

This craziness was happening again, only now it seemed to involve other people as well. She shook her head feverishly. Not wanting her time in Cedar Oaks to be blemished by her haunting past, she deliberately pushed all strange thoughts away from her mind.

Finally composed, she rose from her chair and made her way out through the doors, approaching her locker. She knew that in order for everything to be okay she would just have to continue doing what she had done in the past. It was quite simple, actually.

Deny, deny, deny.