Ready for what? was Kylie's first thought. Then she remembered. Was Miranda freaking kidding?
Kylie stared at the communal goblet being passed around the circle. Her breath caught when she realized it was only ten people away from being placed in her hand. Drawing in a deep smoke-scented gulp of air, she tried not to look disgusted.
Tried. But the thought of taking a sip from a container after everyone had smacked their lips on the rim landed somewhere between gross and nauseating in her mind, but for sure the biggest yuck factor was the blood.
Watching Della consume her daily nutrition had gotten easier this last month. Heck, Kylie had even donated a pint to the cause-supernaturals did that sort of thing for their vampire friends. But having to taste the life-sustaining substance was a different matter altogether.
"I know it's sickening. Just pretend it's tomato juice," Miranda whispered to their friend Helen standing on the other side of her. Not that whispering helped in this crowd.
Kylie looked across the circle of supernatural campers, their faces cast in firelit shadows from the bonfire. She spotted Della, frowning in their direction and her eyes glowing a pissed-off gold color. Her acute hearing was only one of her gifts. No doubt Della would call Miranda on her "sickening" remark later. Which basically meant Kylie would have to convince the two of them not to murder each other. How two people could be friends and fight so much was beyond her. Playing peacemaker between the two was a full-time job.
She watched another camper raise the goblet to her lips. Knowing how much this meant to Della, Kylie mentally prepared herself to accept the glass and take a sip of blood without barfing. Not that it stopped Kylie's stomach from wanting to rebel.
Gotta do this. Gotta do this. For Della's sake.
Maybe you'll even like how blood tastes, Della had said earlier. Wouldn't it be cool if you turned out to be vampire?
Not, Kylie had thought, but wouldn't dare say it. She supposed being vampire wouldn't be any worse than being werewolf or shape-shifter.
Then again, she remembered Della practically crying when she talked about her ex-boyfriend's repulsion to her cold body temperature. Kylie preferred to stay at her own temperature, thank you very much. And the thought of existing on a diet that mainly consisted of blood...? Well, Kylie seldom even ate red meat, and when she did ... cook that cow, please. While Holiday, the camp leader and Kylie's mentor, had said it was unlikely for Kylie to start exhibiting any huge metaphysical changes, Holiday had also said anything was possible. Truth was, Holiday-who was full fairy-couldn't tell Kylie what her future held, because Kylie was an anomaly.
And Kylie hated being an anomaly.
She'd never fit in the human world, and damn it if she wasn't a misfit here, as well. Not that the other campers didn't accept her. Nope, she felt closer to these supernaturals than she did human teens. Well, she did as soon as she learned that no one here was dying to have her for lunch. Why, Della and Miranda were now her two major best friends-there wasn't anything she couldn't or wouldn't share with them. The blood donation pretty much proved that fact.
Okay, there was one thing Kylie couldn't share with her two best friends. Ghosts. Most supernaturals had a thing about ghosts. Not that Kylie herself didn't have a thing about them. But it didn't stop the pesky phantoms from regularly popping in for visits.
Nevertheless, whatever type of supernatural she was, being a ghost magnet was her gift. Or ... one of them. Holiday believed that ghost whispering was probably one of many of Kylie's gifts and that others would manifest over time. Kylie just hoped any future gifts were easier to deal with than the indecisive and communication-challenged dead people. "It's coming," Miranda said.
Kylie watched someone pass the glass to Helen. Kylie's throat tightened again. Her gaze shifted to Derek, the brown-haired half fairy, standing three campers past Helen. Kylie had missed him drinking the blood. Not that she was sorry. The next time they kissed, she didn't want to think about him drinking blood.
He smiled tenderly and Kylie knew Derek could sense her emotional turmoil. As crazy as it seemed, his ability to read her emotions was both what attracted her to him and kept her from getting closer. Well, it wasn't so much his ability to read her that kept her from allowing their relationship to deepen, it was his ability to control those emotions. Being half Fae, Derek not only could read her emotions, but with a simple touch, he could alter her emotions, turn fear into fascination, anger into calm. Was it at all surprising that she stayed in awe of the sexy-as-sin boy? Call her paranoid, but after seeing how her dad-make that her stepdad- had cheated on her mom and then how Trey, her ex-boyfriend, had dropped her in the grease when she'd been hesitant to go all the way, trusting the male gender was difficult. Trusting one who had the power to manipulate her emotions was even harder.
Not that it stopped her from liking Derek or from wishing she could throw caution to the wind. Even now-her stomach clenched as she thought of drinking blood, surrounded by the entire camp-she felt herself being lured to him. Felt herself wanting to lean up against his chest, to get close enough to see the gold flecks in his pupils melt and mesh into the vivid green of his eyes. She wanted to feel his lips on hers again. To taste his kiss. She learned these last few weeks how good he could kiss. A clearing of Miranda's throat brought Kylie back to the moment.
When she saw Derek's caught-you smile, she knew he'd read her turnedon emotions, and her cheeks warmed and she shifted her gaze away from Derek to Miranda.
Oh crap. Miranda held out the glass for Kylie to take. It was showtime. She took the goblet. It felt warm against her palm, almost as if the liquid inside had just been drained from its life source. Her stomach knotted and her throat followed course. She didn't know if the blood was animal or human.
Don't think about it.
She inhaled and the coppery smell, like old pennies, filled her nose, and before the glass touched her lips, her gag reflex prepared to bounce.
Just do it. Show Della that you respect her culture.
She swallowed hard, tilted the glass up a notch higher, and hoped like hell Della appreciated this. Telling herself she only had to taste, not drink, she waited for the moisture to dampen her mouth.
The second the warm liquid wet her lips, she went to pull the glass back, but somehow the thick red blood snuck through her tightened lips.
Her gag reflex jumped but then the taste exploded on the tip of her tongue. Almost like black cherries but better, sort of like ripe strawberries but tangier and sweeter, the exotic flavor had her mouth opening and greedily swallowing. As the liquid slid down her throat, the smell of old pennies vanished, replaced with a spicy fruity scent.
She had almost downed the whole glass when she remembered what she was drinking. She yanked the glass from her lips, but couldn't stop her tongue from dipping out the corner of her mouth to catch a drop that tried to escape.
Immediately, the intensity of everyone's gaze on her pressed against her awareness and a deeper reality sank in. Murmurs filled her ears ... At least now we know what she is.
How come she's not cold?
Looks as if we're going to up our blood drive.