Taken at Dusk Page 7


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"Are you going to be okay?" Holiday asked when Kylie walked back onto the office porch.

Kylie plopped down in one of the large white rocking chairs. The sticky heat seemed to cling to her skin. "I'll live." She set the envelope on the small patio table between the chairs and pulled her hair back and held it off the back of her neck. "Do you really think they were impostors?"

Holiday sat in the other rocker. Her red hair hung loose around her shoulders. "I don't know. But Burnett won't let it rest until he gets to the bottom of this. He feels guilty that he wasn't more on top of things and let Mario get to you. I imagine after this, he's not going to want to let you out of his sight."

"He had no way of knowing what the creep was up to," Kylie said.

"I know that. You know that. But Burnett has a tendency to be a bit harder on himself."

"Aren't all vampires?" Kylie considered Della and the emotional baggage she carted around.

"Not really," Holiday said. "You'd be amazed how many vamps refuse to take any responsibility for their actions. It's always someone else's fault."

Kylie almost asked if Holiday was referring to a certain vampire who'd broken her heart in the past. But her thoughts went back to the Brightens. "You were there. Didn't you read their emotions? Weren't they sincere? I felt somehow ... connected to them."

Holiday tilted her head as if thinking. "They were very guarded, almost too much so, but ... yeah, they read sincere. Especially Mrs. Brighten."

"Then how could they-"

"Reading emotions is never a hundred percent certain," Holiday said. "Emotions can be disguised, hidden, even faked."

"By humans?" Kylie asked.

"Humans are masters at it. Better than supernaturals. I've often thought that since their species lack any superpower to control their worlds, they have worked harder at controlling their emotions."

Kylie listened, while her heart chewed on concern for the Brightens.

"Narcissism, detachment, schizoid personality, sociopath-these things run rampant in the human race in varying degrees. Then you have the actors who can create an emotion within themselves by simply borrowing it from a past experience. I've attended plays and shows where the emotions flowing from the actors were as real as I've ever felt."

Kylie leaned back in her chair. "I'm part human and I can't seem to control anything."

Holiday glanced at her with empathy. "I'm sorry I had to send them away. I know you were hoping to learn something. But I couldn't risk that Derek might be right."

"I understand." And she did. She just didn't like it. "Mrs. Brighten-if she really was Mrs. Brighten-reminded me of my grandmother."

"Nana," Holiday said, and Kylie remembered that Nana's spirit had paid Holiday a visit.

"Yeah."

Holiday sighed. "I know this is difficult for you."

The camp leader's phone rang and Kylie held her breath, hoping it was news on the Brightens, Derek, or the P.I.

The camp leader glanced at the call log. "It's just my mom. I'll call her later."

Kylie pulled one knee up to her chest and wrapped her hand around her leg. The silence that followed called for the truth. "I feel as if nothing in my life makes sense anymore. Everything is changing."

Holiday wrapped her hair into a rope. "Change isn't the worst thing, Kylie. It's when things aren't changing that you have to worry."

"I disagree." Kylie dropped her chin down on her kneecap. "I mean, I know change is necessary for growth and all that stuff. But I'd like one thing in my life to feel ... grounded. I need a touchstone. Something that feels real."

Holiday raised her brows. "Shadow Falls is real, Kylie. It's your touchstone."

"I know. I know I belong here, it's just that I still don't know how I belong. And please don't tell me that I should make this my quest. Because that's been my quest since I've been here and I'm not any closer to figuring it now than I was then."

"That's not true." Holiday pulled her knees up, and in the oversize rocking chair, her petite form looked even smaller. "Look how far you've come. Like you said, you know you belong here. That's a big step. And your gifts are coming in left and right."

"Gifts that I mostly don't know how to control or when they might or might not pop in again. Not that I'm complaining." Kylie dropped her forehead on her kneecap and let go of an exaggerated sigh.

Holiday chuckled.

Kylie glanced up. "I sound pathetic, don't I."

Holiday frowned. "No. You sound frustrated. And to be honest, after what happened to you this weekend, you deserve to be frustrated. You might even deserve to be a little pathetic."

"Nobody has the right to be pathetic," Kylie said.

"I don't know about that. I think I've earned the right a few times in my life." Holiday set her rocking chair into a slow swaying motion.

Kylie stared at the camp leader, and she had a distinct feeling that there were a lot of things Holiday still hadn't told Kylie about herself.

"Did I sense a new spirit earlier?" Holiday asked.

"Yeah." Kylie leaned back in the chair. "She's still not making sense. Says she's confused." Kylie recalled the angry-looking stitches she'd seen on the woman's head. "I think she died of a brain tumor or something. She had a shaved head and scars."

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