Taken at Dusk (Page 12)

Right now.

She wanted to go to him, to lean against him. To assure herself he was okay.

The warmth from Lucas’s shoulder pressed closer.

She saw the slightest narrowing in Derek’s eyes, as if he noted how close Lucas stood. Then Derek frowned.

A storm of emotions swirled inside Kylie. One emotion stood out more than the others. Anger. Derek had no right to be upset about how close Lucas stood to her. He’d walked away, even when she’d begged him not to leave. So why did she feel the urge to add an inch or two between her and Lucas?

"I think you’ve done enough by getting that P.I. involved." Lucas’s blue eyes drilled into Derek.

Derek’s posture instantly went defensive. "Mr. Smith isn’t behind this."

"Maybe not," Lucas said, his voice tight, "but it was through him that trouble arrived."

The tension in the air thickened so much, it made breathing a chore.

Burnett looked at Lucas. "There’s no reason to lay blame."

"Burnett’s right," Kylie said. "Besides, I’m the one who contacted Mr. Smith." She felt Lucas tense beside her and suspected he didn’t like her standing up for Derek. She wasn’t sure she liked doing it, not when her anger toward Derek still bumped around her chest. Nevertheless, she wouldn’t let Derek get blamed for trying to help her. She continued to stare at the half-fae, wishing she could read his thoughts-or at least his emotions-the way he could read everyone else’s. "Is Mr. Smith okay?"

Derek met her gaze again. Anger flashed in the gold flecks of his eyes. She didn’t know if he was reflecting her emotions or if he was angry himself. Probably both. "He’s going to live." His gaze left hers, and emptiness swelled in her chest. And something told her it was a feeling she’d have to get used to because nothing had changed between them.

Nothing.

"I can shadow Kylie," Della said.

"Me too," said Miranda.

Burnett looked at the two of them. "Since you are in the cabin with her, you two will have your turns."

"She’ll be safer with me," Lucas said.

"Get real!" muttered Della.

"Ditto," Miranda added, and held out her pinky as if pointing out her weapon.

Kylie looked from Miranda to Della and then on to Derek and Lucas. Unreal. They were talking about her as if she weren’t even here. Still, she knew they were just trying to help, and she loved them all for it. Well, she would when she stopped feeling pissed off.

Burnett looked back at Lucas and then at Derek. "I’m concerned that both of you might be too close to this."

"Which is why we’d be good at it," Derek said.

"Which is why I’d be good at it," countered Lucas.

Derek shot Lucas a dirty look. "You’re a real jerk, Parker."

Both guys started slinging insults.

"For cripes’ sakes, guys!" Kylie snapped. "This is getting-"

"Stop it!" Burnett ordered. And just like that, Derek and Lucas both fell silent. "This is what I mean. Both of you have other agendas where Kylie is concerned."

Kylie felt her cheeks redden, more from anger than embarrassment. "Here’s an idea. Maybe somebody should ask me what I think about-"

"That’s ridiculous," snarled Lucas. She blinked at him for a moment until she realized he was referring to Burnett’s comment, not hers.

Burnett’s shoulders grew tighter and his gaze shot from Lucas to Derek. "Right now, I don’t think either of you would be focusing on protecting when you’re with her. I’m not saying you won’t be asked to help in the future, but right now-"

"Still ridiculous." Lucas stiffened beside Kylie, and she could swear she felt his temperature go up a degree or two. "I would die before-"

"As would I," Derek barked out.

"And my job is to make sure no one dies," Brunett countered.

At least on that point, Kylie could agree with Burnett.

* * *

An hour later, after Burnett and Holiday went back to the office to assign Kylie shadows, Kylie lay shivering in her bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering when and how her life had gotten so out of control. Right after Burnett left, Lucas had been summoned again by his pack. With regret in his blue eyes, and maybe even still a little anger at her for standing up for Derek, he told her he would see her as soon as his pack business was handled. Kylie hadn’t begrudged him going; she’d kind of needed to be alone. But she couldn’t help remembering what Fredericka had said. Lucas’s bloodline is pure, he values that. The forefathers value that, too. They’ve made that clear. Were those just words cast out to cause Kylie doubt? Or was there something going on?

Kylie closed her eyes and moaned. Socks burrowed deeper under the covers at her side, while a dead bald woman paced around the room, jabbering about how she couldn’t remember shit. Kylie released a deep breath, and steam rose from her lips and slowly snaked up to the ceiling.

"Can’t remember," the ghost muttered. "Nothing but a blank."

Little did the woman know that Kylie kind of envied her right now. She wished she could forget. Forget that look of anger she’d spotted in Derek’s eyes, forget the sudden tension she’d felt in Lucas’s body when she stood up for Derek. Forget that she very well might be responsible for killing an elderly couple and getting the P.I., Mr. Smith, sent to the hospital.

"What’s it called when you can’t remember who you are? Isn’t there a word for that?" the spirit asked.

"Amnesia." Kylie considered telling Jane Doe-the spirit needed a name, and Jane Doe was as good as any-that her memory loss might be more about the eight-inch scar running across her head than your average amnesia. Then again, Kylie supposed the reason Jane couldn’t remember didn’t matter. The fact that she had no memory was the problem. How the hell was Kylie supposed to help a ghost who didn’t even know who she was?

Kylie suspected that if she asked Holiday that question, the camp leader would say to start looking for clues in what the woman did and the way she was dressed. The jeans and T-shirt the woman wore didn’t give much of a clue. As for the bald head and scar, yeah, that might be a clue. However, when Kylie first met the woman, she’d had hair and looked as if her abdomen had been ripped open. Was that a clue, too?

Heck, Kylie wasn’t even sure if the woman knew she was dead. Just coming out and asking her seemed a little rude.

"I just don’t get why I can’t remember," Jane said.

Kylie pressed her palm to her aching temple. She was so not in the mood to deal with this right now. Not that she had a choice. So far, ghosts didn’t seem to respond to rain-check requests.

"Are you listening to me?" the woman asked.