"No, I give you my blessing. I'll sing at your wedding."

"Please." Sara chuckled. "I'm probably one of the few people who knows you can't sing worth a damn.

Remember in the sixth grade when our moms made us try out for the play? And you had to sing. You got out a couple of words and then you puked on the stage."

They both laughed. And Kylie accepted that while she and Sara would probably never be as close as they once were, Sara was a part of her life that Kylie would forever cherish.

When the laughter stopped, Sara cleared her throat. "So, when are you going to come clean about healing me?"

Kylie tried to think how to say it. "You know what, Sara? If you want to believe I healed you, then believe it. But I wouldn't tell a lot of people. They'll think you're crazy."

* * *

Thursday night Kylie practiced with Lucinda. The last three days had passed without major chaos. Steve and Della were actually speaking. Kylie couldn't swear on it, but she'd bet the vamp and Steve were seeing each other on the side.

Jenny was adapting, though she still had issues with everyone staring. While Hayden didn't like it, she and Derek were hanging out a lot. Derek had even come to see Kylie and basically told her he had feelings for the chameleon.

At first, Kylie thought he was there to make sure Kylie didn't want a second chance with him before he moved on, but then she realized what he'd really come for. He wanted relationship advice. She gave it to him, too. "Just be yourself, Derek. You're a hell of a catch and she's gonna love you."

Holiday had gone to the doctor and found out she was farther along than she'd thought. For that reason, she decided to move the wedding up to this weekend. It wasn't going to be a big event. Just Holiday's immediate family, the students, and a few of Burnett's FRU coworkers.

Della, Kylie, and Miranda all helped Holiday pick out her wedding dress from the Internet. They had laughed, stayed up way too late talking, munching on junk food, and trying to come up with names for Holiday's baby. She really didn't want to name it Burnett Bankhead James Jr., and nobody could blame her.

Kylie and Lucas met every morning before he took off to spend his time with the elder. The man had not only listened to Lucas, but had agreed to help him polish his case to the Council that he was supposed to present next week. So far, the old man kept Lucas busy every day debating and listening to all of Lucas's arguments and helping him with his points he needed to make. Which was great, but other than those short practices, she hadn't seen Lucas and she missed him something terribly.

What made it worse was that he hadn't touched or kissed her since the night he'd seen her naked. Sheknew why. The closer it came to the full moon, the less willpower he had. She noticed the change in him, too, body and mind. His body had grown buffer, the muscles in his arms more pronounced. She sensed his lack of patience. Not that he once got abrupt with her; she just sensed it, how he held himself, how he walked and talked.

Their sparring matches had grown more intense. Not that those scared her anymore. Her nightly practices with the spirit prepared her. The red marks where the spirit's sword touched her gown had lessened tremendously. The open wounds the spirit wore from Kylie's sword had increased.

"I think I'm done," Kylie said, looking away from the wound she'd just caused Lucinda.

You're getting better.

"I'd practice more if I didn't have to see you bleed."

It needs to feel real, Lucinda said.

"It already does," Kylie answered. She watched Lucinda check her wounds. "Do you think I have what it takes to fight Mario, to win?"

With the death angels' help, maybe. Without them, you don't stand a chance.

"Gosh, you know how to boost someone's confidence," she said.

I've only seen one person able to take him. His own son.

Kylie remembered the story Derek had told about him disappearing. "Whatever happened to him?"

I don't know. I hope he's rotting in hell. But chances are he is still alive. Her gaze met Kylie's. It's always the good that die young.

"Then maybe I should run out and do something bad," Kylie said, half teasing.

You couldn't. Good is bred into you. Sort of the way my husband's evilness was bred into him. Only because of you was my son saved.

"No, it's because of him that I was saved."

You see, that's part of your goodness. You won't even take credit.

Kylie pushed that thought away. "Was he behind your murder? Your husband?"

No, but he allowed it. And he allowed his father to take our son. To raise him to be evil. Crazy thing was, my husband hated his father, but envied everything he had. She looked over her shoulder as if she heard something or someone. Then she disappeared.

Kylie went to her room and grabbed her nightshirt, then headed for the shower. Sweat ran from the back of her neck down her back. Even with the spirit's cold, she always worked up a sweat.

Turing the water on to lukewarm, she dropped her clothes on the floor and stepped into the shower.

Closing her eyes, the warm rush of water hit her skin and she waited for it to soothe the muscles she'd overworked during practice.

The sudden change of temperature had her eyes popping open. Her breath hitched. She stared at the shower wall. The cold sent goose bumps racing across her naked body. A thick steam billowed up around her.

She wasn't alone. Someone was in the shower with her. And it was a different cold. One she hadn't felt before.