Dad?
Kylie grabbed the door handle to keep herself from fal ing face-first onto the street. What was her dad doing ... doing with ... Kylie's gaze shot to the woman, or she should say, shot to the "girl." Kylie recognized her dad's new assistant whom she'd met last month at a company picnic. The girl was in her third year of col ege.
Stil leaning against the van, Kylie did the math. While math wasn't her best subject, she figured the girl to be about four years older than Kylie herself.
And just like that, Kylie figured out a bunch of things. Like how her father's six pairs of underwear ended up being gril ed-how her mom's countless cold-shoulder moments toward her dad suddenly added up to be fair justice.
Realizing the couple had walked to where they might spot her, Kylie moved to the other side of the van. And the cold that fol owed her around the van told Kylie she wasn't alone. Yet, too emotional y distraught to think about the ghost, Kylie concentrated on not barfing up the triple scoop of ice cream she'd just consumed.
Holiday arrived shortly. "You okay?"
"Great," Kylie lied, too embarrassed, too horrified to give details. Bad enough her father had flirted with Holiday, but to see him with someone who probably stil treated her skin for acne, wel , it was just too much.
On the way back to the camp, Kylie looked at Holiday. "Do you know what qualifies as justifiable homicide?"
"No." The camp leader laughed. "But if I have to put up with Burnett much longer, I might become an expert. Who are you thinking of offing?"
"My parents." The vision of Kylie's dad groping his assistant fil ed her head and her chest ached. "Or maybe just my dad."
Kylie waited a few more minutes before she dropped the bomb. "Do you think ... you could hold off a few more weeks before you talk to my mom about my going home?"
Holiday didn't look at her, but Kylie saw the smile of victory in her profile as she continued to watch the road. "You betcha."
Monday night, almost everyone hung out at the dining hal to watch movies. Kylie, Miranda, and Del a had stayed up way too late Sunday night nursing the wounds inflicted by their respective parents. Then Kylie and Miranda went over the books Kylie had bought on dyslexia.
"This won't work," Miranda said, frustrated at just trying to read the first chapter.
"What if I read it to you?" Kylie said.
Miranda looked up at Kylie and her eyes went misty. "You'd do that?"
"You'd do it for me, wouldn't you?" Kylie asked.
"In a snap," Miranda said.
Hence, the two of them had stayed up way too late. So instead of hanging out to watch a movie, Kylie headed back to her cabin. When she opened her cabin door, the smel hit her and she wrinkled her nose. She obviously needed to clean the litter box. Then Socks, the little bal of fur Lucas had given her as a farewel gift, stuck its head out from under the sofa and hissed.
"Come here, sweetie," she cooed, but dang it if the kitten didn't go deeper under the sofa. Her phone buzzed. Kylie pul ed it out of her pocket, saw that it was her mom, and placed the phone on the coffee table and tried to coax the kitten out. After several failed attempts, Kylie gave up. "Fine, sleep under the sofa." Frustrated and tired, Kylie started pul ing her shirt off over her head and went to get her PJs on.
When she reached her dresser, she heel-kicked off her tennis shoes and pul ed out her favorite nightshirt. Slipping off her bra, she dropped it on a chair. Then and only then did she raise her eyes to the mirror.
Her breath hitched. It took her mind a second to compute what she was looking at in the reflection. And another second to get friggin' mad.
"Get out of here, you twerp!" She hurried and slipped on her night shirt before turning her ful fury on Perry, who had transformed himself into a lion and was stretched out and taking up her whole bed.
"Out!" Kylie seethed.
The lion roared.
Kylie grabbed her boobs beneath the nightshirt and raged, "You final y got a peek at your first set of boobs, didn't you? You are so ... so pathetic. And don't you think for one minute that I won't tel Miranda about this, either."
She reached down and picked up her shoe and threw it at the beast. "Out!" The animal roared again. "I swear to God, Perry, if you don't sparkle your ass out of here, I'l pin both your ears behind your head and break your neck."
The room's temperature suddenly dropped a good fifty degrees.
"Don't scream," a male voice said. "And don't make any sudden moves."
Kylie's heart slammed against her ribs when she saw the soldier standing beside her night table. It wasn't so much that he was there that had her mental y stammering, it was that he'd spoken to her.
She took in a deep breath. A wisp of steam escaped her lips as she exhaled.
Goose bumps rose on her flesh. She crossed her arms to fight the chil . "The lion isn't real," she managed to say. "It's Perry. He's a shapeshifter."
The soldier wasn't bleeding this time. But the memory of the dream, of seeing him dying on that dirty floor came hurtling back. Her heart ached for him. Now that he was final y talking to her, would he tel her his name? Oddly enough, even mental y referring him as Soldier Dude didn't feel right. He deserved more respect.
"It is real, Kylie," he said as the lion roared again.
She reached for her other shoe and hurled it at Perry.
"Kylie, listen to me." The ghost's voice grew louder, firmer. "That isn't Perry. It's real. And it's dangerous. Don't provoke it. Move to the door. Get out, now."
His words sank in and she stared harder at the lion.
The lion who was not sparkling back into human form.
The lion who stood up and leapt from the bed.
The lion who moved in front of the door and prevented her from escaping.
The lion, who paced back and forth while sizing her up as if trying to decide what kind of sauce he wanted her served with. Kylie didn't, couldn't, look away from the lion, but she spoke to the ghost. "Okay, the door thing didn't work. Got any other ideas?"
"Stay calm." His words rang the same time the animal roared, sounding angry. Hungry.
"That's kind of hard to do." She shivered, both from the cold and the thought of the lion's teeth ripping open her rib cage.
"He's waiting for you to run. If you stay calm, it wil give us some time."
"Time to do what?" she asked. The lion dropped down on the floor and started cleaning his paws. Was he washing up before dinner?
"Time to think of something else," he answered.
Hearing her own teeth chatter, she glanced over at the ghost. "Can't you ... make him leave?"
"If I could, he would already be gone." Sincerity added deepness to his voice. In spite of her panic, something about the ghost struck that chord of familiarity again. As if she knew him, or maybe as if she should know him.
"What's your name?" She tried to stop shaking, but couldn't.
"Daniel Brighten," he said.
She let the name bounce around her head, trying to find a connection. Nothing clicked. Blinking, she met his blue eyes again, watching as a strand of his blond hair fel across his brow. "Why?" she asked. "Why are you fol owing me around? Is it about how you died?"
"No," he said. "I needed you to know that I didn't have a choice."
Why did he need me to know that? Kylie flipped her gaze from him to the lion every other second. "Do I need to tel someone? Did you get accused of hurting that woman?"
"No."
The lion stood back up and Kylie's breath caught. She looked around for something to defend herself with.
"Don't do that," the ghost said.
"Don't do what?"
"Don't grab the chair."
She gazed back to him. "Can you read my mind?"
"No, you were looking at it."
"I'm scared," she admitted.
"I know, but if you grab it, the lion might feel threatened."
"Yeah, wel , I'm kind of feeling threatened, too. The beast is supposed to be next door at the refuge, not in my bedroom." Kylie suddenly remembered Del a tel ing her that the animals sounded angry. Was the lion angry at her now? "How did it even get here?"
"I don't know, but let's worry about that later."
A deep rumble sounded from the lion's chest. Kylie wasn't sure if that was his angry noise, but from where she stood it sure as hel was his scary noise.
"Don't panic, Kylie. He can smel it."
Daniel was right, Kylie decided. Animals, like supernaturals, could smel things like fear. She inhaled slowly. Think about something else. Think about something else. Her mind found a topic and she looked at Daniel again.
"Is Nana, my grandmother, in heaven?"
"Of course she is."
"If you can visit me, why hasn't she?" The steam from her lips snaked up to the ceiling.
"I was here first."
"Where were you first?" Her teeth chattered again.
"Waiting until you were old enough to understand. They only al ow one spirit to come to you at a time, until you are able to cope."
"Wel , they were wrong." She looked back at the lion.
"Wrong about what?"
"I'm not ready to cope yet."
He smiled.
Kylie hadn't meant it to be funny. "So you've actual y seen Nana?" New goose bumps started forming on top of the old goose bumps. Kylie knew she would feel warmer if the ghost left, but the idea of being alone with the lion didn't thril her.
"She is not a woman who can be missed," he said. "Not even in spirit form."
Curiosity struck. "Did you meet her before ... before she died?"
"A long time ago." His light blue eyes, combined with his blond hair, pul ed her in for a second. She studied him. And then it happened. She saw inside his head. She was doing what al the other supernaturals could do. Seeing his pattern. A tiny thril ran through her. Blinking, she continued to look at his pattern. He had vertical lines and then some odd kind of writing, like Chinese, or prehistoric symbols. "You are ... were supernatural, weren't you?"
The lion let go of another roar. Kylie flinched as the beast stood. "I think he's hungry," she said. "I think I should get the chair now, don't you?"
The ghost didn't answer. Kylie noticed the temperature rising. Oh, shit. Even the ghost feared being eaten alive. Only he couldn't be since he was already dead.
Just as she might be soon if she didn't think of something quick.
Tears fil ed her eyes. She was alone. Al alone. And then the lion tossed his head back and forth and lunged at her.