Born at Midnight (Page 80)

"Good question," Holiday answered. "I personal y think the gods did it just to piss us off."

Kylie dropped down in the chair across from her desk.

Leaning back in her chair, Holiday studied her. "You’ve been quiet al day. Did the visit with your mom go okay?"

Kylie decided to spil the beans. "Daniel Brighten, the ghost, is my real father."

Holiday nodded. Not the reaction Kylie expected.

Kylie felt her gut tighten. "If you tel me you knew this al along, I’m gonna be so pissed."

"I didn’t know." Holiday held up her hand. "I suspected. There’s a difference."

"You should have told me."

"It doesn’t work like that."

"Wel , I don’t like how it works," Kylie barked.

Holiday let go of a sigh. "Sometimes I don’t, either."

They got quiet. Music from the dining hal wafted into the room. A party was going on. A celebration of sorts for not having to close down the camp and for the decision to make the camp a boarding school. For many of the campers, it would be a lifesaver.

"Everything else okay?" Holiday asked.

"Yes." Then Kylie felt that if she didn’t get it al out she would burst. "No, it’s not okay. I like two guys. One left so that should make it easy, right?

Especial y since the one who left is probably off having kinky sex with his she-wolf. But no, I’ve got my mom, my dad, and Daniel’s story in my head tel ing me how it’s not fair to care for someone if you care for someone else." She stopped talking just so she could breathe.

"I’m sure that not’s easy," Holiday said.

"Oh, I’m not finished yet. It gets better, because this guy, the one I like, has the power to toy with my emotions. And when I’m with him, I feel as if it’s too good to be true. That makes me wonder if maybe what I’m feeling is real. Maybe he’s just using his power to make me think I real y like him."

Holiday frowned. "I don’t think Derek would do that."

Okay, Kylie knew Holiday would figure out who the boys were, but hearing his name made Kylie’s chest clutch.

"Then again," Holiday said. "Derek is male. Their logic isn’t the same as ours."

"So you agree; he could be doing this, couldn’t he?" Kylie asked.

Holiday looked as if she’d been put on the spot. "He could, but again I don’t think Derek is that type."

"I don’t think he is either, but…" She closed her eyes. "I’m just feeling so confused."

Holiday sighed again. "I wish I could tel you it gets easier when you’re older. But where men are involved, there always seems to be some bafflement."

"And then there’s Daniel," Kylie seethed. "Now that I need for him to show back up so I can ask him what the hel I am, he’s not cooperating. He’s off playing golf or poker with St. Peter or whatever men do in heaven. Or heck, maybe he’s found himself some hot too-young girlfriend like my dad has and decided to drop me in the grease, too."

Holiday laughed. "Have you considered that maybe Daniel wants you to find this out for yourself?"

"Oh, that’s so not fair," Kylie said. "Your parents didn’t die or anything and leave you to go scrambling around to find out what you were. You were born knowing it."

Holiday shook her head. "Everyone’s journey is different. Why don’t you make that your next quest?"

Kylie slammed back in the chair. "I don’t want another quest. Why can’t it just be easy?"

Holiday grinned. "Easy is no fun." She sighed. "As much as I hate admitting it, if men were easy to figure out, they probably wouldn’t be as much fun as they are."

"Yeah, but feeling as if your life is raining chaos isn’t fun. And that’s what I’ve felt for the last two months."

Holiday frowned and reached over and patted Kylie’s hand. "And I’m about to make some things even more difficult for you."

"What?" Kylie pul ed her hand away from Holiday.

The camp leader frowned and pul ed a letter from her desk drawer. "I wasn’t going to give you this, but then … I remembered what you said about me being too protective."

A wiggle of concern shot through Kylie. "You know, being protective is good sometimes."

"No. You were right," Holiday said.

"Is it from Daniel?" Kylie stared at the envelope.

"No. It’s from Lucas."

"Just shoot me now." Kylie banged her head on the desk.

Holiday giggled. "It can’t be that bad." She reached over and gave Kylie’s hand another squeeze. "You are a special girl, Kylie. If I had to guess, I’d say these two aren’t going to be the only ones who wil jump through fire to get your attention." She stood up. "I think I’m going to go sit in on the party for a while. Stay in here as long as you want."

"Holiday?" Kylie said her name without turning around.

"What?"

Kylie looked back. "Did Lucas write to you, too?"

Holiday nodded.

"Do you know if … if Fredericka is with him?"

Holiday’s eyes shifted. "Yes."

"Thanks." Kylie turned around. Holiday’s footsteps faded into the sound of the music from next door. Kylie pul ed the letter closer. She remembered how it had felt to kiss Derek-hot, safe, except for the little doubt that her emotions were being manipulated. Her kiss with Lucas had been … hotter, but nothing about it had felt safe. Maybe that was even why it had been hotter. Risk and passion seemed to go hand in hand.

Kylie stared at the letter. Was there anything that Lucas could say in that letter that would change the fact that he’d left, that he was with Fredericka-a girl he admitted to having sex with? A girl he’d even admitted caring about.

No, Kylie thought. There was nothing Lucas could say to change that. Any more than her dad could change what he did to her mom. Or what Trey had done to her.

The music seemed to cal out to her. There was a party going on and she should be there. She folded the letter and put it in her pocket. She deserved to just enjoy tonight. Later, she’d find out what Lucas had to say.

She stood up, turned to leave. The cold hit her so fast, her breath caught, then, the room fil ed with a thick fog. Okay, this was different.

The thought no more went through her head when Kylie knew how different. This wasn’t Daniel. She tried to relax. But face it, this ghost business was going to take some getting used to. "Daniel?" She said his name almost hoping she was wrong.

A section of fog slowly lifted. A woman, no more than thirty, with long dark hair, stood there. She wore a beautiful white gown, or it had been beautiful at one time.