Born at Midnight (17 page)

Chapter Twenty-three

“Hey, where have you been?” Miranda asked as Kylie dropped down on the bench beside her and Della in the dining hall fifteen minutes later.

“Talking to Helen.” Kylie brushed a strand of blond hair behind her ear, her nerves still jumpy.

“Who’s Helen?” Della held her glass of “juice”—that’s what Kylie had decided to think of it as—to her mouth.

“Helen Jones.” Kylie motioned to the quiet girl who had just sat down at another lunch table. While Kylie had invited Helen to join them, she’d declined, saying she’d promised to sit at the fairy table today.

Kylie watched Helen sit next to Derek and lean in to whisper something in his ear. Kylie didn’t need super hearing to know Helen had shared the no-tumor verdict. As if to prove Kylie right, Derek met Kylie’s gaze and smiled.

Kylie returned the gesture. While she was comforted that Helen hadn’t seen any black dots in her brain as she’d spotted in her sister’s, the answer moved Kylie closer to accepting that she was … well, not all human. And that was not comforting at all.

Della leaned forward and whispered, “How did your interrogation go? Did you find out what they suspected you of?”

“What interrogation?” Miranda’s eyes grew round.

Kylie looked around at the crowd. “I’ll tell y’all later.”

Miranda nodded. “Oh, did you hear we’re getting a computer? They’re putting one in every cabin.”

“Cool,” Kylie said, only half listening. Instead her mind chewed on the possibility of insanity explaining her odd brain pattern. For sure, there’d been times she felt crazy—these last few weeks topping the list.

“You’d better get your lunch before they stop serving,” Della said.

Kylie noticed that several of the campers were already stacking their trays and leaving. The tumor scan had taken longer than Kylie had thought.

“Yeah.” Kylie stood up.

“Oh,” Miranda said. “Perry was trying to find you earlier.”

Kylie frowned and leaned down. “What did he want?”

“Maybe for you to check his sex again.” Della snickered.

Kylie groaned.

Miranda chuckled and then got serious. “I think it was to apologize. He told me that he even tried to get away from you, that you were the one to bring him inside.”

Kylie recalled that the kitten, aka Perry in disguise, did try to resist when she brought him in. As he did when she pried his hind legs apart. “He still shouldn’t have been peeking in our windows.”

“True,” Miranda said. “But at least he’s willing to apologize. It takes a big person to do that.”

“Or a little twerp who’s afraid I’ll tell Holiday on him,” Kylie said.

“She has a point,” Della said.

Kylie walked to the lunch pickup window. The elf who had driven the bus stood behind the counter—all three feet of her, the tip of her head barely hitting the countertop. She cocked her head back and looked at Kylie, her brows twitching. “Have we figured out what you are yet?” The elf slid a food tray at Kylie.

“Not yet,” Kylie muttered, not liking the fact that everyone at the camp knew about her identity crisis.

“Does your friend need anything to eat?” the little woman asked, frowning.

“What friend?”

The cold brushed down Kylie’s right side—his presence as noticeable and as welcome as a paper cut. “You can see him, too?” A wisp of steam left her lips with the words.

“Nah, just feel him. Don’t like it, either.” The elf backed away from the counter.

Go away. Go away.
Closing her eyes, Kylie willed Soldier Dude to leave. When the chill faded as quickly as it had come, she wondered if it was really as easy as just wishing him away. One more thing she needed to talk to Holiday about. Nevertheless, the small victory offered Kylie a tiny sense of control. Real tiny.

Picking up her tray, she went back to join Miranda and Della. Admittedly, she didn’t search the room for any guys wearing army garb. Why look for trouble?

“Bad day?” Miranda asked when Kylie dropped her tray rather discontentedly on the table.

“Bad month.” Kylie picked up the sandwich and sniffed. “I hate tuna.” She felt her throat tighten and swallowed the knot of emotion, swearing she wouldn’t cry.

“You like peanut butter and jelly?” Miranda asked.

“Yeah.” Kylie looked at Miranda, thinking she was offering to swap. Instead, she was holding out her pinky and waving it at Kylie’s sandwich.

The sandwich in Kylie’s hand moved. Kylie looked at it, and her mouth fell open. Peanut butter and red jam oozed over the crusty edges of the bread. “Holy crap.” Kylie dropped the sandwich back on the tray.

“Wow.” Della leaned over. “Can you zap me up a second glass of blood? Oh, make it O negative. I hear that’s the best.”

Miranda made a face. “I do
not
do blood.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Della huffed.

Kylie shut out all talk of blood and shifted her gaze from her transformed sandwich back to the sandwich transformer. “I thought you said you couldn’t do magic?”

Miranda made a funny face. “That’s hardly enough to call magic. I’ve been replacing my lunch with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches since I was two. My mom tried force-feeding me liverwurst. Who in God’s name eats that stuff?”

“I’d bet I would love it now,” Della said.

Kylie’s stomach growled and she pulled back the bread to give the sandwich a quick check. “Is it … safe to eat?”

“You think I’d poison you?” Miranda asked, clearly offended.

“No, but it could be radioactive or something. I don’t know what happens to food when it’s … zapped here.”

“I’ve eaten my sandwiches all my life,” Miranda said.

“Yeah, we see what it did to you, too,” Della added, her tone sounding more and more annoyed.

“Go suck a vein,” Miranda snapped.

“You got one?” Della countered, and bared her teeth.

“Please.” Kylie looked from one roommate to the other. “I beg you, don’t start this again.” Only when they both seemed resigned to stop bickering did Kylie revisit the idea of eating. Amazingly, she was starved. Getting one’s brain scanned must increase one’s appetite. Or maybe it was that her headache had finally taken a hike. Either way, she was hungry enough to take a chance and eat a sandwich that had been conjured up by Miranda’s pinky finger.

Picking up the sandwich, Kylie sank her teeth into the soft white bread. “It’s good,” she told Miranda, as she moved the bite around in her mouth, and tried to keep the peanut butter from sticking to the roof of her mouth. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Miranda said. “And in return, all I’d like is for you to put in a good word for me with Derek—since you don’t like him.”

Della made a snorting sound. “You are so blind. Kylie’s crazy about him.”

Miranda’s mouth fell open and she looked at Kylie as if waiting for her to rebuke Della’s claim. But the peanut butter got caught on the roof of her mouth and Kylie couldn’t have spoken even if she wanted to. Not that she was overtly ready to speak up. She didn’t know how to answer.

Frustrated at Kylie’s silence, Miranda addressed Della. “She said she didn’t like him.”

“She lied.” Della shrugged.

Miranda snapped her head around to Kylie. “Do you like him? If so, just tell me you like him.”

“Who does Miss Don’t-know-what-I-am like?” Lucas’s girlfriend plopped down on the opposite side of the table.

Kylie’s gaze shot to the werewolf. Strange. She couldn’t ever remember having so much anger or dislike being lopped on her in one cold stare.

She managed to push the lump of sandwich she’d pried off the roof of her mouth to her cheek. “No one,” she said, but it came out muffled.

“Really?” The werewolf’s lips turned up in something that might have been considered a smile if the smirk accompanying it wasn’t so evil. “By the way, my name’s Fredericka. I thought you’d like to know the name of the girl who will kick your ass if you even try—”

“Ha. That’s funny,” Miranda said.

Funny?
Kylie shot a look at Miranda and right then the blob of bread, peanut butter, and jam slid halfway down Kylie’s throat. She covered her mouth and coughed, which only made the situation worse, because as the golf ball–sized lump of food tried to come up, it lodged between her tonsils. She gasped for air, but got none. Zilch.

“What’s funny?” Fredericka’s cold stare now focused on Miranda, which might have concerned Kylie if she wasn’t slightly preoccupied about not being able to breathe. She started thumping her chest.

Can’t breathe.

“You kicking her ass,” Miranda shot back.

Hey. I can’t breathe here.
Kylie reached for her throat, the universal sign of choking.

“I mean, with all the help Kylie would have stopping you and all.”

Seriously, I can’t breathe.
Oh, friggin’ great, she was at a camp full of bloodsucking, meat-eating creatures, and she was about to die of asphyxiation from a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Fredericka leaned forward, getting closer to Miranda. “You think I’m scared of your scrawny little butt?”

Still can’t breathe here, guys.

Finally, Della—you gotta love an attentive vampire—reached around Miranda’s shoulders and gave Kylie one extra hard thump between her shoulder blades. The clump of food dislodged from her windpipe. While it hurt going down, at least oxygen started passing.

“Me?” Miranda’s voice came out squeaky. “You thought … I meant … No, no. I didn’t mean help from me.” Miranda pointed a finger at Della. “She might take you on. She’s got this whole vampire combative attitude going, but I didn’t mean her, either.”

“But she’s right,” Della said, half her attention on Kylie and the other half on Fredericka. “I’d help Kylie kick your ass in a heartbeat.” She curled her lips at the werewolf, showing off her canines.

Fredericka didn’t appear concerned. Not that Kylie was certain of anything; she was still working on getting the needed oxygen to her brain, while giving the drama playing out in front of her a wee bit of attention. Hey, if she was about to get ripped apart by a werewolf, she wanted to know the reasons why.

“Then who are you talking about?” Fredericka leaned across the table and a low growl escaped her throat.

“I mean Kylie’s ghosts.” Miranda said. “She’s got like a dozen or so hanging around, or hadn’t you heard?”

What?
Kylie coughed—good thing the lump of bread had gone down and not up because she would have choked on it again.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not messing with the dead. Don’t you remember last year when Holiday talked about the death angels?”

Death angels?
Kylie recalled Miranda talking about the legend of dancing death angels at the falls on the bus ride to the camp. She gave up one more cough and then held up her hand. But right before she started talking, she noticed the fear in Fredericka’s expression.

Not wanting to come off like a scared rabbit confronting a hungry wolf—even though that pretty much described exactly how Kylie felt—she looked Fredericka directly in the eyes. “Stop.” Cough. “I don’t want to fight you.” Cough. “I don’t even know why you’d want to fight me. Or my ghosts.”

Hey, Kylie was no fool. She fully intended to take advantage of the fear she spotted in the girl’s eyes.

“Just stay away from Lucas,” Fredericka warned, but her voice lacked its earlier confidence.

“Me?” All the crappiness of the day, of the last few weeks, zeroed in on this high and mighty B with an itch, and the scared-rabbit feeling faded.

“You know what?” Kylie snapped. “Maybe you should go tighten the leash you have around your so-called boyfriend’s neck, because every time I’ve spoken to him was because he came up to me. Not the other way around.”

“You’d better watch your back,” Fredericka said.

“She doesn’t have to,” Della said. “Her ghosts do that for her. Didn’t you hear about the little incident that happened at our cabin last night?”

Fredericka shot up and took off.

Kylie pressed a hand to the table and stared after her. “What a bitch.”

“Yeah, she was like that last year, too. But we did good,” Miranda said, and placed her hand on top of Kylie’s.

“We rocked,” Della said, and put hers on top of Miranda’s.

“Thank you,” Kylie said, and looked from one roommate to the other. “Y’all didn’t have to stick up for me, and I appreciate it.”

“Hey, we’re friends,” Miranda said. “And that’s what friends do.”

Smiling at her two new friends, Kylie realized that coming to camp wasn’t going to be
all
bad.

Then, letting go of a heartfelt sigh and feeling her bravado kick down a notch, she met Miranda’s gaze. “Do death angels really exist?”

Chapter Twenty-four

“And oh, do death angels really exist?”

It was probably the seventh or eighth question Kylie had pitched at Holiday during their meeting thirty minutes later. The moment Kylie’s foot had stepped inside the office, the questions just started flowing.

“That’s … a lot of questions.” Holiday smiled and motioned for Kylie to sit down.

Kylie set her phone down on Holiday’s desk and took a chair. When she’d left the dining hall, she spent the last five minutes talking to Sara, celebrating the fact that her pregnancy test was negative, but now Kylie was back to focusing on her own mission of finding answers.

“Yeah, and I’m only getting started,” she said. “I also want to know what else I could be. The other day you said—”

“Really?” Holiday’s brow arched. “So you’ve accepted that you’re one of us?”

The question bounced around Kylie’s head. “No. I just want to be prepared if … that’s what I discover.”

The camp leader brushed her long ponytail of red hair behind her shoulder. “I heard you had Helen check you for a tumor.”

“Who told you?” Kylie asked, imagining the whole camp teasing her about it. Or even worse, teasing Helen. The girl seemed even shyer than Kylie and the last thing Kylie wanted was for her to get hell because of something Kylie had talked her into doing.

Holiday shook her head. “It wasn’t like that. Helen was excited that she discovered how it worked and wanted to share it with me.”

Kylie nodded. She understood how Helen felt and didn’t begrudge her sharing the news with Holiday.

“But you still aren’t a believer, are you?” Holiday asked, meeting Kylie’s gaze.

“I could still be…”

“Crazy or schizophrenic.”

“Right,” Kylie said, relieved that Holiday understood.

Holiday sighed as if exasperated and Kylie’s relief evaporated.

“It’s just I don’t think either of my parents are gifted. And you said this is most likely hereditary. Plus, I can’t see into people’s head and see any patterns. Helen said she could always do it.”

“That’s Helen. Most of us with ghost whispering powers—it just appears one day.” Holiday sighed. “And there could be a hundred reasons why your mom or dad hasn’t shared this with you. You…” She held up her hands. “What am I doing? My job isn’t to convince you. It’s to help you find your own answers.”

Kylie almost apologized for disappointing Holiday because she honestly liked her, but how could Kylie just believe this without some proof?

“Let’s get back to your questions.” Holiday paused as if recalling the list. “Do death angels really exist? I’m assuming you heard about the legend of the name Shadow Falls.”

“Yeah,” Kylie said. “Is it true?”

“I’ve never seen the shadows. Of course, it wasn’t quite dusk when I was there.”

“I mean the death angels?”

“Well, I haven’t ever seen a death angel either. But I know several people who claim they have. Some think they exist only in the legends, but since all supernaturals are considered legends, it’s hard to say they don’t exist.”

“Are they known to be evil?” Kylie asked, her curiosity stemming from both Fredericka’s fear and Miranda’s hesitancy to talk about them later.

“Not necessarily evil. They are thought of as powerful ghosts who are … avengers. It’s believed that they right the wrongs of the supernaturals. And stand judgment of them.”

“Is that why everyone seems so scared of ghosts?”

“Yup, that would be the reason.” A smile twitched Holiday’s lips. “Frankly, we scare the bejeebies out of most supernaturals. Remember the FRU?”

Kylie nodded and inwardly admitted it scared the bejeebies out of her, too.

Holiday placed her right elbow on the table and then rested her chin in her open palm. “To be honest with you Kylie, death angels per se may not exist, but I see all my ghosts as being a lot like we think death angels are. I mean, I’ve actually had several protect me in different ways. Sure some of them need something from us, but more times than not they are here to either help us, or to help us help someone else. As scary as this all seems to you, you should know that it’s a special calling. Very few supernaturals have this gift. It’s said that it is bestowed on only those with worthy spirits, good hearts, and courage.”

“But I’m not those things,” Kylie said, pleading her case. “On Halloween, I wouldn’t even go into the haunted houses.”

Holiday chuckled. “I didn’t say you were perfect, Kylie. Heaven knows that I have my faults as well. But our hearts want the good to win. We’re still afraid, we still make mistakes, but if we listen to what our hearts want, we will find the right way.” She rested her left hand on top of Kylie’s.

Kylie looked at their hands joined together on the table. “Is being a ghost whisperer a common gift for fairies? And elves?” Kylie remembered the bus driver sensing when Soldier Dude had dropped by for a visit. “At lunch, the elf, the one who drove the bus that brought us here, she knew the ghost was there.”

“Yes, there have been studies that say it is more common with fairies and elves. But it’s not unheard of for others to have this ability. While certain gifts are bestowed to different species, each being can have less or more, depending on their spirits or their links to the gods and goddesses.”

“So what else could I be?”

“This morning when I touched you and you sensed that I was trying to calm you … the fact that you could feel that is … well, unusual. Generally speaking, another fairy, depending on their level of power, may be able to sense it, but … honestly, I’ve never heard of anyone sensing it through touch.”

“So assuming I’m not human, I’m also not fairy?”

“I didn’t say that. What I can say is that whatever species your gifts stem from, your lineage to the gods is closer than most. I think you are just coming into your powers and who knows what all awaits you.”

Kylie just stared. Holiday acted as though her words were supposed to make her feel better. “But do we know—if I
am
one of you—that I’m not like a vampire or werewolf?” Kylie held her breath as she waited for Holiday to answer.

Holiday shrugged. “I’m guessing if you were of that species, we would have seen some of the normal characteristics that are linked to them. However, there are a few of all species that are what we refer to as atypical. Their heritage is with one species and yet they lack certain characteristics, and are often gifted in other ways. The studies seem to conclude that, perhaps, these individuals are the very few that have combined genetics of two or more species. Not that it has really been proven.”

Oh, great. She could be a hybrid. Just like her sociology teacher’s car.

“So … normally, you really don’t have half of one species and half of another? I thought Miranda said they’ve been mixing forever.”

Holiday smiled. “Yes. But generally, the species with the closer lineage to the gods is the one passed on in the DNA. Here again, the gifts of the child may vary, but the basic characteristics seem to remain true for each species, such as the transformation into a wolf, or the need for blood to survive—if the virus is active.”

Kylie’s mind was trying to wrap around all this information. “Isn’t there some blood test that could tell if I’m anything at all?”

“Regrettably, no. Oh, they are still trying, believe me. However, it’s legend that the gods made our blood the same as humans, and unidentifiable as a matter of survival. If normals, or even one form of a supernatural, could test for certain species, they might be able to eradicate certain types.”

Kylie conceded that point. If she’d found out two weeks ago that vampires and such existed, she’d have been all for trying to eradicate them. But now, after knowing Della, Miranda, Derek, Holiday, Helen, and even Perry—the little twerp—Kylie would never agree to it.

Then she remembered she wasn’t the only one who didn’t know why she was here. “Is there any kind of supernatural that isn’t hereditary?”

“Well, as I mentioned earlier, in rare incidences it has been known to skip generations. Especially in the instances of vampirism. Then there are humans who are simply turned by either vampires or werewolves, but it’s suspected that even in those cases, the victims who survive being turned have been touched in some way by the gods. Or demons.”

Demons?
Okay, Kylie wasn’t ready to deal with them just yet. “But you don’t think I’m a vampire or a werewolf, right?”

“I think it’s unlikely.”

Which basically meant, if Kylie wanted to get to the bottom of this, she’d have to go to her parents. And just how in the heck was she going to do that, assuming her parents were as clueless about this as she was? Knowing her mom, if Kylie started asking questions, she’d get herself pulled out of camp and stuck in a loony bin.

*   *   *

During the art hour later that afternoon, Kylie was paired up with Helen and Jonathon. The teen had removed all his piercings except his left earring. Kylie also noticed the way he carried himself, as if somehow becoming a vampire had given him a double shot of confidence. Even Helen seemed quicker to smile and totally comfortable with her new role as fairy/healer.

Kylie remembered Holiday saying how the camp would make most of them feel relieved because they always sensed they were different. Kylie saw that relief in Helen and Jonathon—it was as if they’d finally discovered who they really were. It was just one of a dozen or more things that made her different from everyone else here at camp. She couldn’t help but wonder if this failure to identify with her supernatural self wasn’t another sign of her not being anything but human.

Their art assignment was to take a walk as a group of three, find a spot, and then sit and sketch the same thing. Kylie, her mind still stuck on seeing the falls, suggested that they take a walk to the waterfalls. She felt pretty sure she could find her way back to where Derek had taken her and then follow the sounds from there. Face it, she was curious, but both Helen and Jonathon refused to go, saying only that they preferred to stay away from that place. Instead, they walked down one of the trails and found an old tree that had been split in two from what she assumed had been lightning.

While Helen and Jonathon got into the whole sketch-a-tree thing, Kylie spent most her time trying to figure out how to approach her parents. Her mother already thought she was nuts because of Soldier Dude. What would she say when Kylie asked, point-blank, if her mom had any fairy ancestors, saw ghosts, or could transform herself into a unicorn.

Later, when Kylie met up with her hiking crowd, she almost bailed when she found out Lucas was leading the group. Then, afraid ditching would get her into trouble with Holiday, Kylie plastered a cordial look on her face that she didn’t really feel, and swore to ignore him. Fifteen minutes into the hike, she realized she didn’t have to ignore Lucas because he did a championship-winning job of ignoring her. Half an hour into the hike, and not once had he addressed her personally or even glanced her way. Not that she cared.

It was a downright shame Fredericka wasn’t around to see how unimpressed the two of them were with each other. Okay, the truth was, Kylie counted her blessings that she and Fredericka hadn’t crossed paths again. Somehow Kylie had to muster up some courage, or at least learn to fake some. Because sooner or later they were bound to come face-to-face again. Kylie’s hands began to sweat just from considering it.

And to think Holiday thought she had courage. Ha.

In the beginning of the hike through the woods, Kylie mostly hung with Miranda, when her roommate wasn’t chatting it up with the five or six male hikers. Honestly, when it came to the opposite sex, Miranda reminded Kylie a bit of Sara. A little too out there. Then again, it might be Kylie was a tad jealous at how easily both of them could flirt.

Even though Kylie didn’t consider herself unattractive, playing that whole giggly role didn’t come easy for her. She was fortunate that Trey hadn’t been turned off by her more subdued style.

Thinking about Trey reminded Kylie that he’d called again during art class. He’d left a message, too, but she hadn’t listened to it yet. Hey, he’d have to get in line. She had her own issues to deal with. But even as she tried to push thoughts of him away, she remembered him saying in their first conversation,
I just want to see you. I miss you.

Her chest tightened, because damn it. She missed him, too.

Kylie felt Miranda nudge her with her elbow.

“This is Kylie. We’re rooming together,” Miranda said.

Waving at the group of guys walking on the other side of Miranda, Kylie quickly went back to checking the trails for water moccasins and pretending she wasn’t listening to Lucas’s spiel about the camp.

According to him, real dinosaur bones were actually found here back in the 1960s. After a few more minutes, Kylie forgot about feigning disinterest and like the rest of the group—minus a few of the boys and Miranda—hung on Lucas’s every word.

Lucas took them up to a creek bed where an archeologist had roped off some prehistoric footprints. Kylie found the whole story fascinating. And it had nothing to do with the fact that Lucas’s deep voice sounded hypnotic. She’d always found archaeology intriguing.