“I think you’ll do.”
His eyes widened. “You love me?”
“I sure do, kid.”
He thought about it a moment. “I love you, too. I think.”
I smiled a big, watery smile; on the verge of tears again because in the midst of all of this, he was so great.
“You’re still crying,” he pointed out.
I laughed and wiped a few tears off my face. “That’s because you haven’t hugged me yet.”
Lucian immediately wrapped his arms around my neck. A few moments later he leaned back to peer at my face.
“They’re still there,” he whispered.
I smiled. “Sometimes it takes a while for them to stop.”
“Lucian,” I heard Adrian call from the doorway, “leave Caitlin alone.”
Lucian immediately pulled away from me and scampered into the hall.
I glared at Adrian, my emotions on their last frayed rope. “Why did you do that?”
He stared at me impassively, arms crossed over his chest. “I told you we aren’t allowed to love humans. You know that.”
Rage bubbled up through my stomach. “He’s a kid, Adrian.”
“He’s one of us.”
“Since when are you ‘one of them’?”
He smiled, but it was cruel. “Since the day I was born.”
I was so angry I couldn’t speak for a moment. “Funny. I thought I heard you say that you weren’t anything like them. My mistake.”
His face tightened. “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything!” I cried, eyes brimming with frustrated tears. “The sewing machine, the studio, your protection, I never asked for any of it. I didn’t ask you to save me, you just did. You did that on your own. You made me love”—I caught myself just in time—“Lucian. You made me love Lucian.” My voice faltered. “How could I not love him?”
He stared at me. I concentrated on keeping my voice level.
“I don’t know what you feel. I can’t. And I don’t understand what you’re doing. Why things are different than they were before. But I will not sit here and let you forbid me from loving anybody. You’re a vampire, not a god.” I stood up. “Now either get out or I’m calling my uncle to tell him that you’re scaring me.”
He closed his eyes but didn’t move. I’d never been this angry at him before. Actually, I’d never been angry at him before. Not really.
“Adrian, I swear to God I will call Joe if you don’t leave right now.”
He turned around and walked out the door, closing it quietly.
I stared at it for a moment, then sank to the floor and sobbed.
18
CINDERELLA MOMENT
I hated this part.
It wasn’t so much the act of primping, it was the waiting; the time it took to get ready. I was wrapped in an old bathrobe feeling awkward and hot in the cramped bathroom. Norah was painting my toes, which were separated by those uncomfortable pink foam things, and Rachel was pinning my curled hair into an elaborate Pride and Prejudice–esque updo with an armada of black bobby pins. My makeup was done (courtesy of Rachel), my dress was hanging in my room along with the stilettos (which were getting their money’s worth of use this year), and I’d already vigorously brushed my teeth—twice.
I was beyond amazed that Joe and Rachel were letting Adrian pick me up for the dance. It had been almost a month since the Incident in the Bedroom, and they seemed to have cooled off somewhat. Maybe the fact that I hadn’t argued about being grounded swayed them in my favor. I’d brought the dance up to Rachel, Rachel and Joe had discussed it, and they’d decided I was allowed to go—although I still wasn’t allowed to have Adrian over for anything but homework sessions. The past few days I’d barely seen Adrian at all when I went over to use the studio. The fight had been pretty bad.
“Stop fidgeting,” Norah warned from her place on the floor. My foot was propped up on her knee and she had the concentration of a surgeon as she applied the pale gold gloss. Five minutes later, she was done. Ten minutes later, Rachel finished, my nails were dry, and I was running out of time. I ran into my bedroom, threw off my robe, and very carefully slid into my dress, trying not to smudge my makeup or catch any of the pins in my hair on the fabric. I slid my shoes on and opened the wardrobe to look at the mirror hanging on the inside of the door.
Rachel was a miracle worker. I don’t know how she did it, but I looked complete down to the last detail. I had on dangly earrings, but with this particular dress, a necklace would have been too much, so I spritzed on some body spray and threw on Rachel’s borrowed wool coat, buttoning it all the way down so only the hem peaked out underneath—there was no way I was letting my aunt and uncle see the back of this dress before I left the house. Or the front, for that matter.
“Adrian’s here!” Norah yelled, her voice muffled by the heavy wood door.
I breathed in and out, suddenly nervous.