Chapter Six
Kylie watched Della read the chosen card aloud. “What was your most embarrassing moment involving bodily functions?”
They all laughed.
“This is gonna be good,” Miranda rubbed her hands together.
Della cringed a little and then answered, “Well, Chase and I had just been together for a while. You know that stage where you don’t want them to know you fart or even go to the bathroom. He’d cooked me chicken fingers, but his chicken fingers gave me gas. The kind you can’t hold in no matter how tight you pinch your butt together.”
She sucked in her cheeks. “And when it ekes out, silently of course, it’s the worst smell in the world.”
Their laughter rose to the ceiling again. Oh, yeah, Kylie needed this.
“So,” Della continued, “I stayed next to Baxter, his dog, and any time I couldn’t hold it in, I’d look at poor Baxter, and ask Chase what the hell he was feeding his dog.”
The lump of pain in Kylie’s chest lessoned. This is what the round-table discussions always did—add a thin layer of Novocain to a broken heart.
“Then . . .” Della went on, “Chase couldn’t stand it anymore, and he put the dog out. I didn’t have anyone to blame then.”
“Poor Baxter,” Miranda snickered.
“I tried so hard not to do it again, but it happened. Chase figured it out and burst out laughing. He brought Baxter back in and invited me to step outside. He was teasing, but it still stung.”
This, this kind of deep belly laughter, was like getting an emotional cleansing. That Novocain became more effective.
Kylie’s turn was next. She drew a card that read everyone had to answer her question. Della moaned, Miranda seemed anxious. Kylie read the non-sexy-part-of -boyfriend’s-body question and went straight to answering it. “It’s his belly button. Lucas has a dimpled little hole. He can’t stand me to touch it, but it’s so cute.”
She chuckled, but the laugh lost its luster, the Novocain became less effective when she envisioned Lucas shirtless. Unexpectedly, her anger slipped down a notch, while her need to have the stubborn werewolf close slipped up ten notches.
“That’s gross.” Della appeared to pick up on Kylie’s mood, and jumped in to answer to put the humor back in the driver’s seat. “Don’t you dare tell Chase I told you this, but he has a heart-shaped birthmark under his right armpit. It’s kind of sexy.”
“Armpits are grosser than belly buttons!” Kylie said with forced tease, hoping to push back the ache.
Miranda sighed when they looked at her. “I love that groove, a little indention between his shoulder and chest. It’s perfect to rest my head on. It’s like a sexy pillow made for me to lean on.”
“So Shawn has sexy pillows on his chest?” Della’s words rolled out with her laughter.
“No.” The humor in Miranda’s voice dropped, shattered around her, almost taking the humor out of the room. “Perry does.”
Kylie saw a flash of pain pass over the witch’s eyes. Miranda had sworn Perry was history. She was dating Shawn, the young warlock who worked for the FRU, but Kylie had a feeling Miranda’s heart was clinging to history.
Truth was, Kylie had a soft spot for Perry more than she did for Shawn. Not that Shawn wasn’t nice. He just wasn’t as fun to hang with as a certain class-clown shapeshifter who would do anything to help someone. Like mooning a crowd just to stop people from staring. Only a true friend would show their ass for you.
It wasn’t just about her and Perry’s friendship. Shawn didn’t mesh with Miranda like Perry did. But considering Perry had taken off and hadn’t even called Miranda, Kylie didn’t blame the witch for moving on. Or trying to.
“He also has sexy earlobes.” A sad smile brushed across Miranda’s lips and jarred Kylie’s heart. Kylie saw Della’s smile slip off her face. Most everyone at Shadow Falls missed Perry.
“Don’t tell me about you sucking on them,” Della said as if attempting to rekindle the humor.
The game continued, eventually bringing more laughter to the table. A few minutes later, it was Kylie’s turn to draw another card. She read it aloud. “What’s the sweetest thing a boy ever said to you?”
The question tumbled around her head. The answer shot south and made a direct, and painful, hit to her heart.
“Lucas told me . . . right before he left. ‘You are more important to me than being on that council.’”
Kylie’s eyes stung, her vision became a watery blur. “I was so mean to him, guys! I said some things . . .” She hit her forehead with her palm. “God, I’m terrible. I love him and I acted like . . .” Tears rolled down her cheeks as the anger she felt evaporated. “I acted like I was going to break up with him. What the hell’s wrong with me?”
“Not a damn thing,” Della said. “Lucas hasn’t been the best boyfriend lately. You were just standing up for yourself after months of taking crap.”
“He’s working on his life quest. I should be more understanding—at least more patient. Or I should have spoken up earlier and not waited until I was so mad. Why didn’t I say something earlier?”
“Because you’re way too nice,” Della said as if the answer was obvious.
Miranda spoke up. “Some people avoid conflict.” She waved a hand between Kylie and herself. “Some of us kick its ass,” she pointed to Della. “Some real bitches wallow in it, and then wear it like red lipstick.”
Miranda scooted over and put her warm hand on top of Kylie’s. “But what’s important is that you make things right when he comes back. He loves you and, unlike someone else I know, he hasn’t run off and disappeared. He’ll be back and you can fix it.”
Kylie pulled in a slow breath. “I will. I’m gonna fix this. I have to.”
She hadn’t completely absorbed that unhurried breath when it felt like an icy thick cloud swallowed the kitchen.
The cold bit into Kylie’s skin like claws. And not just hers. Through an opening of frozen gray mist she saw Miranda’s eyes go wide with fear before she hugged herself.
“Shit,” Della’s voice rose.
But the cloud-like fog grew thicker, and now Kylie couldn’t see the pissed-off Della, or the frightened Miranda, she couldn’t see the end of her nose.
“What do you want?” Kylie snapped, recognizing the feel of the spirit to be the same one who’d visited a few days past.
Save him! Save him! Save him! The voice, still slightly familiar, roared so loud, Kylie covered her ears. Unfortunately, the words didn’t come from the room, but inside her head.
“Save wh . . . who?” Kylie’s voice trembled, her teeth chattered. “Who are you?”
Her questions hung in the air, then faded as fast as the cold and fog vanished.
Flustered, Kylie spoke again. “I can’t help you unless you tell me who you are and who I’m supposed to save!”
Kylie brushed the frozen tears off her cheek. “Ghosts!” She glared up at the ceiling addressing whoever was in control of this. “Why do that they have to be so darn dad-blasted cold and difficult?”
• • •
Lucas had started his campfire and now sat on the earth. The warm orange glow pushed back the night’s darkness. The Council had picked a national forest located fifty miles from Houston for his commune with nature. His location was in the most secluded area in a park that was over a hundred and fifty thousand acres.
The wisp of cool wind whispered through the pine trees and sent embers of flames dancing midair only to float to the ground. Fortunately the earth held the moisture from last night’s rain, making his fire nonthreatening to the trees and animals.
Surrounded by the December cold and the forest, brown from winter, he used a rock to remove the skin, fur, and intestines from the rabbit he called his dinner. The cool wind whispered from the trees.
His stomach ached with emptiness; he’d been here two days without eating. His heart ached with emptiness; he’d been here two days without seeing Kylie.
He silently gave thanks to the animal that would fill his belly and pushed away his hunger. Maybe then he could push back his resentment with the Council for insisting he be here, and find solace with nature. Normally, it wasn’t so hard. Normally, he wasn’t worried about his life mate. Normally, their life together was without question. Not that he questioned it now. But Kylie seemed to.
Was that the reason she hadn’t contacted him with her power of dreamscape?
The Council’s hope that his time away from the human world would bring his thinking more in line with their views was failing miserably. Instead, he had used the hours here to mourn the time he had missed with Kylie at the Council’s insistence. He had relived the numerous times he had seen the disappointment flash in her eyes. He cursed himself for letting it go on.
Perhaps his quest to bring together the disjointed were society had been too big a goal. Perhaps he didn’t belong on the Council. They expected him to put their mission before anything else. He couldn’t do that.
Suddenly certain, he made up his mind. He’d give them these two weeks, and then they’d talk. Instead of them making demands on him, he would put the demands back on them. He would have a life outside the duty of the Council. He would make it clear he planned to marry Kylie. He would only be available on certain days.
If they couldn’t–or wouldn’t–accept his terms, he’d walk.
Would it hurt to leave without completing something he felt was his life quest? Yes, but losing Kylie would be worse.
Since he had been seven and peered through the fence slats to see the precious girl swinging in her backyard, he had sensed she was meant to be his. Even when he didn’t know what supernatural mark she carried, he felt propelled to protect her from any pain. And now he was the one hurting her.
He held the meat above the fire with a stick, listening to the sizzle and savoring the smell, and considered what Kylie believed to be true. A theory even Burnett gave credence to. Lucas still doubted their accusations against the Council, but the more he pondered the reasons for all the so-called emergency meetings, the more his doubts grew.
“It will change,” he vowed and pulled the meat from the fire, kicking some moist dirt to smother the flames.
He ate his fill, then remembering the coyotes he’d smelled and finally spotted hanging back a couple of hundred yards, he carried the bones and leftover meat away from his fire and tossed it out to them.
Lucas didn’t fear them. They knew what he was. He sensed their objective was not to feed on him, but to feed their own curiosity.
Unsure what other animals lurked nearby, he headed to the stream about a half mile from his camp to clean the smell of smoke and meat from his body. He inhaled the scent of decaying leaves and listened to the scurry of small wildlife that braved the night. He got halfway to the water when he caught a new scent. A scent that could mean danger.
Vampire.
But that wasn’t all. The scent of a were came with the next cold breeze.
He stopped walking, stood amongst the trees and listened. To his right, he heard a slight crackling of leaves crumbling beneath someone’s steps.
“What do you want?” he called.
No answer came back.
“I’m not here to seek trouble,” he spoke with determination and no fear. Showing fear was an even bigger weakness than feeling it.
The slightest flicker of a sound echoed in the distance. Then the whooshing sound of something riding through the air, flying toward him, had him tensing. The object wasn’t a person. It was something small, something like . . .
Pain–hot, raw pain–struck his shoulder as an arrow buried deep. Missing his heart only by inches. Hitting the cold earth, he sought cover behind a tree. Gritting his teeth, fighting hard not to growl in pain, he tried to think.
He got back up on his haunches, waited, listened, planned his best defense, all while ignoring the thick coppery smell of his own blood as it oozed from the wound and flowed down his arm.