Della's victory yelp followed.
Kylie's hands started to shake. The smoke from the bonfire filled her nose and throat and made it hard to breathe.
Crap! Crap! Crap! What did this mean? Was she ... a vampire?
She scanned the wide-eyed faces to find Holiday, wanting to see her reassuring smile that said it was okay, that said this ... this meant nothing.
But when she found the camp leader, her expression mirrored that of the others-shock.
Blinking, hoping to wash away the start of tears, she shoved the almost empty glass into the hands of the person beside her. No longer caring about showing respect, she took off at a dead run.
Five minutes later Kylie was still running. Running faster than she knew she could move. But was it vampire fast? The hot, muggy summer air filled her lungs and came out in gasps. Even with the night temperature clinging to the high eighties, a chill ran down her spine. Was she at this moment morphing into a vampire? Was she growing cold? Hadn't Della said it was painful? More like excruciatingly painful. Was she in pain? Emotionally yes. But physically? Not yet.
She kept moving. The sound of her feet hitting the ground filled her ears, and the sound of the thorny vines snagging her jeans and then ripping away seemed too loud. Her consciousness throbbed right along with the beating of her heart. Thump. Thump. Thump.
How many times had she told Della she wasn't a monster? And yet the mere idea that Kylie might be a vampire seemed ... too much.
The smell of the bonfire smoke clung to her clothes and filled her nose. Yet the taste of the sweet blood lingered on her tongue. She ran harder. Faster. Did her speed mean she was a vampire?
She didn't want to think about that.
Didn't want to accept it.
Her lungs finally gave out, declined the air she tried to force down. The muscles in her legs cramped and her knees shook. She stopped, her legs refusing to support her weight, and collapsed in the middle of a thorn-infested field. Pulling her legs to her chest, she hugged her shins and dropped her head on her knees.
She drew hot air into her lungs that now begged for oxygen. One breath, then two. Physically exhausted, she went still as the realization finally stuck. If she were a vampire, would she not have Della's stamina? Maybe that came with the change of body temperature. The dampness on her cheeks told her she'd been crying.
The air suddenly chilled. Turned cold.
Not vampire cold.
Dead cold.
She wasn't alone-another spirit had joined her. But who was it this time? Holiday had explained that in time, her abilities would increase and she would have to deal with more than one ghost at a time. But right now, there was only one ghost she wanted to see. Only one thing she wanted.
She wanted answers. "Daniel?" she called her father's name. And then louder. "Daniel Brighten. What am I?"
When he didn't appear, she screamed his name again and again. Her throat became sore, but she didn't stop. "You come here now. You give me answers or I swear to you, I'll never, NEVER acknowledge your presence again. I will shut you off, eradicate you from my mind, and refuse to see, talk, or even think of you again."
As the threat fell from her lips, she didn't even know if she had the ability to do it, but something inside her said she could. She dropped her head against her knees and tried to breathe.
Suddenly the cold grew nearer. She felt it surround her. Felt it wrap around her in a tight embrace. It wasn't just any cold, it was Daniel's cold.
She raised her face and saw his spirit kneel beside her. His blue eyes, the same light color as her own, met hers. His eyes, and most everything else about his facial features, from the oval-shaped face to the slightly turned-up nose, were so much like hers that it was a bit disturbing.
When his arm curled around her shoulders, the knot in her throat doubled. "Don't cry." He brushed a tear from her cheek. "My little girl should never cry." The icy touch shouldn't have been comforting, but it was.
"I drank blood and it was good." She spit out the words like a confession.
"And you see this as wrong?" he asked.
"I ... It scares me."
"I know," he said. "I remember feeling much the same the way."
"Did you drink blood? Are we ... vampires?" The word almost wouldn't come.
"I never tried blood." His expression filled with empathy. "But, Kylie, you didn't do anything wrong." His voice came out soft, his words soothing.