Reluctance (6 page)

"Then have me," Cam said. "Make me your mate. Let me be the one who will bring you happiness. Not Jace. He will never make you happy. He'll never even be faithful to you."

"You're wrong," she said grimly. "He will because when we transform someone, they are bound to us forever, in loyalty. He won't love me, that can't be forced, but he'll stay by my side. He'll never stray."

"It isn't enough—" Cam began.

"It has to be, Cam. I won't do it to you. I won't turn you into something so despicable. I won't force this life on someone who doesn't deserve it. I think we can both at least agree Jace deserves it. He's already a creen, he just doesn't know it."

"Dahlia, please," Cam pleaded. "Don't do this."

Dahlia stepped toward Cam, ravenous now. Her fangs began to extend. "Kiss me, Cam," she commanded. He obeyed, as she knew he would. The hunger receded until completely gone. Tears streamed down her face as she pulled back slightly.

"I love you, Cam," she said.

She gave him one final kiss, one she would remember for the rest of her days, the thing that would get her through her despised life. A kiss Cam would not remember.

"Forget," she whispered.

* * * * *

Cam watched Dahlia from across the cafeteria. Something about her drew him, something he couldn't quite define. He hadn't had much interaction with her, nothing beyond polite pleasantries, but for some reason he felt like he was missing something when it came to the quirky girl.

She walked behind Jace toward his table. She stumbled and nearly dropped her tray. Cam grinned, amused, but the grin turned to a scowl when Jace turned and shot her a dirty look. Dahlia smiled apologetically, a smile completely unacknowledged by Jace. Then she did an odd thing—she looked toward Cam. She shifted her gaze away quickly, but Cam's heart lurched at the eye contact.

Dahlia wore tight, black jeans, a red shirt, and flat boots. Her hair was pulled back into a fashionably smooth ponytail. Beneath the thick fall of hair he spied a rhinestone-laden barrette, tacky and gaudy, and yet somehow more appropriate for her than the rest of her outfit. He wasn't sure why he thought it, but he would have bet his life someone else was in control of how she dressed. His eyes went to Jace.

Dahlia did not seem the type Jace usually went for. She was beautiful, no doubt.

He thought she might be the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. But Jace's girlfriends were usually more traditionally beautiful, like a supermodel or actress—like Tabby. His stomach tightened as it always did when he thought of her. Not because he still loved her or wanted her—that boat had sailed—but because Jace had targeted her simply because of him. Dahlia . . . he could understand if she had been Cam's girlfriend because Jace would take her just to prove he could.

Jace sat at the table, not even glancing to see if Dahlia was still with him or had gotten safely to her own chair. Cam couldn't pin them down. They didn't seem to like one another at all, and, yet, with a glance toward Cam, Jace slung his arm over Dahlia's shoulders and pulled her near. Cam bristled, jealous.
Jealous
? Why in the world would he be jealous of Jace and Dahlia when he didn't even know the girl?

* * * * *

"Let's stay in tonight."

Dahlia felt relief flow through her that she wouldn't be required to go out and keep up the public image Jace demanded. She suspected the reason he wanted to stay in had to do with Aster, who sat across from Jace, casually draped across the sofa, as if posing for a magazine. Aster glanced at Jace with an alluring smile, and Dahlia felt her warning bells go off.

"Fine," she said, more sharply than she had intended.

Jace flicked a look her way, with brows lifted.

"What do you want to do, then?" she asked, not acknowledging his look.

"I rented this great new movie I'm going to watch if you two want to join me."

Aster purred.

"No, tha—" Dahlia began.

"Sounds great," Jace's voice overran hers.

"Super. I'll make popcorn," Dahlia said.

Neither her sister nor her future mate acknowledged her. "Want to help me, Aster?"

Aster rolled her eyes. "I hardly think it's a two-person job, Dal."

Dahlia nearly gagged at her use of the pet name Aster hadn't used since she was a very young girl and still had some capacity to love and admire her older sister.

"Fine," Dahlia mumbled again, turning away from them. She went into the kitchen to make the popcorn and gather some sodas for the three of them. When she returned to the family room Aster and Jace were sitting quite closely together on the sofa. Dahlia seriously considered dumping the popcorn over the two of them. The choice was lost when she tripped and the popcorn fell into their laps.

"Dahlia!" Aster scolded.

"She can't help herself," Jace said, annoyed. "I've never met a bigger klutz."

Aster laughed, and Dahlia felt a fury rip through her. It took all her control to stop herself from lunging at him, teeth bared, with intent to harm, not feed. Shocked at herself, she quickly thrust the sodas at them and fled from the room. She darted up the stairs and into her room in less than a second. Quickly closing the door, she leaned back against it.

"What is
wrong
with you?" she muttered aloud.

She slid down to the floor, not an easy task in the tight jeans. This only infuriated her more, and she tore the jeans from herself, shredding them. Feeling slightly better, she followed suit with her shirt. Sitting there nearly naked made her realize how ridiculous she was being, and she laughed at herself. She went to her closet, pulling out a long paisley skirt, which she topped with an old blue sweater. She pulled her hair down from its tie and scrubbed her fingers through the silky strands. Deciding she might as well go all the way, she scrubbed the makeup from her face. Feeling more normal than she had for some time, she returned downstairs.

"I want to go out," she announced to Jace who was sitting even closer to Aster than he had been when she went upstairs.

"What?" he said, looking up in surprise at her announcement. Distaste crossed his face as he looked her up and down. "We're enjoying this movie," he whined.

"Fine." Dahlia swung away from him, heading for the front door.

"Wait," he called, hurrying after her. "You're going without me?" His voice rang with disbelief.

"Yup," she said, putting a jacket on.

"But . . . ."

Jace looked around, confused. Dahlia was sure he couldn't imagine
any
girl ever wanting to go out without him.

"You coming or staying?" she asked, hands on hips.

"I'm . . . ."

"Jace," Aster called from the other room. "Are you coming?"

Jace turned toward the sound of Aster's voice, echoing Dahlia's question. Dahlia huffed out a sarcastic laugh and exited the house, closing the door behind her. She began to run, not wanting Jace to catch up to her. Now that she had stood up for herself and left, she had no idea where she wanted to go. She definitely didn't want to go to the club. She slowed her pace to a walk.

Eventually, she found herself in the park and sat down on a bench. For the first time since first spying Jace and understanding what he could do for her, she questioned whether she could go through with making him her mate. She hadn't ever thought she might love Jace, at least not since she first understood who he was. But she believed she could tolerate him. Once she changed him he would . . . not
love
her, but would be completely devoted to her. Sometimes the two felt the same. Now it was a matter of whether
she
wanted to have
him
around all the time.

After several hours of trying to decide what she wanted to do, the hunger became unbearable and she gave in. She ran as fast as she could to her usual hunting ground. She pulled up short when she saw Cam walking among the homeless people, handing out blankets. He looked up as she appeared.

"What are you doing here?" they both asked at the same time.

"It isn't safe here for you," Cam said.

"Nor you," she argued. "And it's really late. Why are you wandering around here this late?"

"I might ask you the same," he retorted, continuing in his mission.

Dahlia folded her arms in stubbornness, letting him know she wasn't speaking until he did. He glanced at her, then his eyes scanned her from head to toe. Relenting, he sighed as he continued distributing the blankets.

"I don't really know," he said.

Dahlia could hear the confusion lacing his voice.

"I just felt this . . .
need
to be here. Something drew me this way, as if I've been here before and knew these people had a need and I could help them." He stopped and looked at her again. "But I have no memory of having ever been here. Isn't that strange?"

Dahlia was speechless. What could she say?
Not as strange as you might think.

"Your turn," he said. He covered a sleeping woman with his last blanket and walked over to her. "Why are you here?"

Dahlia searched her mind for a viable excuse. A breeze came up, blowing Cam's scent her way, and her hunger, which she had forgotten, returned with a vengeance.

Her fangs began to extend, and her vision began to sharpen—both signs she was nearly beyond control.

"Kiss me, Cam," she begged, frantically.

"
What
?"

"Please," she pleaded. "Please, Cam, kiss me now, quickly."

He leaned slowly toward her as if to oblige, and Dahlia reached out, burying her fingers in his jacket lapels, clumsily pulling him toward her as she buried her lips in his.

His mouth hardened, and he moved as if to pull back, but she refused to let him go. Her hunger heightened.

"
Please
," she whispered desperately against his mouth.

Suddenly, he gave in. His mouth slanted across hers, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks, gently and yet holding her tightly in place at the same time. Almost immediately, Dahlia's hunger dissipated, replaced by a hunger of a different kind. She molded herself against him, her arms snaking around his shoulder to pull him closer.

She became aware of a sound behind him and quickly pulled back.

"Dahlia, I—"

"You have to go, Cam," she said with alarm as she spotted a man carrying a knife sneaking up from about a block away. He couldn't hurt her, but Cam was all too fragile, all too human.

"Why?" he asked. "Did I hurt you? If so, I'm sor—"

"No, Cam," she interrupted with a smile. "You didn't hurt me. As a matter of fact, you may have saved me. But, please, I'm begging you, you have to go now."

"I'm not leaving you here," he said adamantly.

Dahlia leaned forward, touched his face, and whispered, "
Go
."

Cam's eyes glazed slightly, and he turned away. Then he turned back with a distracted smile. "You look really good, Dahlia."

Dahlia felt her heart crack as he turned away again. Then she took a breath and turned toward the man with the knife.

* * * * *

"Where were you tonight?" Dahlia's dad asked as she finally returned home. He sat on the back porch, completely oblivious to the chill in the air.

"My usual spot," she answered.

"I meant before," he said, noting the blood splatters on her jacket. Dahlia self-consciously covered them, refusing to answer the silent question.

"I needed to think," she said, lifting her chin.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked. "About what?"

"Like you care," she said flippantly as she moved to pass him.

His hand shot out and grasped her arm, forcing Dahlia to stop. She might be stronger than Aster, but she had nowhere near the strength of her parents.

"You may not believe me, Dahlia, but I do care. I was human once. I haven't forgotten everything."

His words caught Dahlia as nothing else could have. She turned around and sat in the chair next to his.

"What will happen . . . ." she began. Once the words were spoken, there would be no going back. She took a breath, gathered her courage, and asked anyway. "What will happen if I don't choose a mate?"

Her father looked at her, surprised. "That isn't what I expected to hear you ask,"

he said. "I thought you'd already picked."

Dahlia nodded. "So did I. I was wrong."

Her father nodded also. "Yes, I thought so. He seemed more someone Aster would pick than you."

"Because I'm plain and clumsy? Because he's better than me?" Dahlia questioned, offended though she knew she shouldn't be. It was the truth, after all. She would never be good enough for someone like Jace.

"No," he said with a laugh. "Because he isn't good enough for you."

Now it was Dahlia's turn to be surprised. "But he's just like you, like all of you. If he were my mate, I'd be someone you could be proud of."

"Dahlia, who you pick as a mate won't make us proud of you. We
are
proud of you."

"Could've fooled me," she muttered.

"Okay, let me rephrase.
I'm
proud of you. I've always thought it impressive how different you are from our people."

"Different," Dahlia scoffed. "That's one way of putting it." She looked at her father. "Did you choose this life? Are you happy?"

He leaned forward and scrubbed his face with his hands.

"I chose your mother," he said. "The only way to have her was to join. There wasn't even a question. I loved her that much. And, yes, mostly I am happy."

"Mostly?"

"Well"—he pointed to his young, handsome face—"there are definite perks. And, though you may think your mother shallow and conceited, I'm still very much in love with her."

"You have to be," Dahlia said.

"No, I don't. I have to be devoted to her. I love her anyway. I see things in her she doesn't let the world see, not even her daughters."

When Dahlia didn't respond, he said, "The knowledge I have is if a young vampire doesn't choose a mate before their twenty-first birthday, they will be unable to have children. I know of only one man who made the choice because he was in love and refused to change the woman. They were forced to go into hiding. If he is ever heard from again, he will be hunted down for breaking the law of not producing two offspring."