He leans his head against my hand, fearing that I’ll move it, fearing that I won’t forgive him, fearing that I’ll find out whatever it is he’s still keeping locked away.

I take a deep breath, knowing how wrong it is, but needing to know. My lips move for his. He freezes as I catch him off guard. Then he meets me the rest of the way, pressing his lips to mine.

He lets out a moan as our lips melt together, soft and sweet, wanting me so bad he can’t stand it. And I gasp. But not because of the kiss. I gasp because I got exactly what I was seeking.

The truth—what he’s hiding.

I pull away, leaving his lips bare in the air. I jump to my feet and unzip my bag. I pull out the last vial.

I hold it up. “So this can stop it? This can stop me from losing all my strength, my speed, all of who I am?”

He jumps to his feet, knocking over the cans of food. “Why would you want to stop it, Kayla? It isn’t right.”

“Why do you keep lying to me?” I snap. “It’s getting ridiculous.” But really, I’m not any better.

“Because I want you to be human,” he says, his voice begging me to understand—to not be angry with him. “You take that medicine and you’ll turn into one of them—a killer.”

“You mean those half-vampires, half-humans you were talking about.” I eye the bubbling liquid in the vial. “That’s what this will make me.”

“Yeah, that’s the price you have to pay to keep it all,” he spats with anger. “Trade in your life, for something in between.”

“You should have told me,” I say. “Whether you liked it or not, it’s my choice.”

“I couldn’t take away your freedom like that.”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing.” My voice is calm, my senses connected to the vial. “By lying and not letting me choose what I want to do. You know, you sit here and preach about freedom, yet you’ve taken away mine.”

“Because you don’t want to be like them.” He’s yelling in my face and I worry that the vampires might hear him. “I know you don’t. You’re too good for that.”

“Keep your voice down,” I hiss. “And you don’t know what I want.”

“Yes I do.” His voice is as light as feather, his eyes pleading to be right. “You and I were in love once. Before I was chosen for The Gathering.”

We breathe heavily, so close our bodies almost touch. He wants me to say something, but I can’t. Because this memory he speaks of, I can’t recollect.

“We should probably keep it down,” I say, clutching my hand around the vial. “They might hear us.”