Del a, sipping a glass of blood, stood watching the game. Since learning about the Shadow Fal s Camp turning into a boarding school, Del a had seemed to lose some of her pent-up anger. Not al of it, but some.
“You okay?” Derek asked, leaning even closer to her ear. He felt solid and so warm standing behind her and right now that was what she needed.
“Yeah.” Kylie spotted Holiday sitting with Chris, listening to him play his guitar.
Looking across the room, Kylie found Burnett leaning against a wal , his attention so locked on Holiday that the world could end and he wouldn’t notice.
Yup, Holiday was his kryptonite, al right.
A sense of belonging fil ed Kylie’s chest. She looked back at Derek and smiled. “Yeah,” she repeated. “I’m okay.” Kylie’s story continues!
Read on for a preview of the next book in C. C. Hunter’s Shadow Fal s series
Awake at Dawn
Available from St. Martin’s Griffin in October 2011
copyright © 2011 by C. C. Hunter
“You have to stop it, Kylie. You have to. Or this will happen to someone you love.” The spirit’s ominous words flowed from behind Kylie Galen and mingled with the crackle and pop of the huge bonfire about fifty feet to her right. The frigid pocket of air announced the spirit’s presence loud and clear, even if the words were only for Kylie’s ears and not for the thirty other Shadow Fal s campers standing in the ceremonial circle.
Miranda stood by Kylie in the human chain, completely unaware of the ghost, and gripped Kylie’s hand tighter. “This is so cool,” Miranda muttered and looked across the circle at Del a.
Miranda and Del a were not only Kylie’s closest friends, but her cabinmates.
“We give thanks for this offering.” Chris, or Christopher as he referred to himself tonight, stood in the middle of the circle and raised the sacred goblet up to the dark sky as he blessed its contents.
“You have to stop it,” the spirit whispered over Kylie’s shoulder again, hindering her concentration on the ritual.
Closing her eyes, Kylie envisioned the spirit the way she had appeared to her several times now: mid-thirties, long dark hair, and wearing a white gown
—a gown covered in blood.
Frustration bounced around Kylie’s already tightened gut. How many times had she pleaded with this spirit to explain, to tel her who, what, when, where, and why? Only to have the dead woman repeat the same warning.
Long story short, ghosts just coming out of the closet sucked at communication. Probably as bad as beginner ghost whisperers sucked at getting them to communicate. Kylie’s only option was to wait until the ghost could somehow explain her warning. Now, however, wasn’t the optimum time.
I’m kind of busy right now. So unless you can explain in detail, can we chat later? Kylie kept the words in her mind, hoping the ghost could read her thoughts. Thankful y, the chil running down Kylie’s spine evaporated and the night’s heat returned—Texas heat, muggy, thick, and hot, even without the bonfire.
Thank you. Kylie tried to relax, but the tension in her shoulders remained knotted. And for a good reason. Tonight’s ceremonial event, sort of a show-and-tel , was another first in her life.
A life that was so much simpler before she knew she wasn’t al human. Of course, it would help if she could identify her non-human side. Unfortunately the only person who knew the answer was Daniel Brighten, her real dad. She hadn’t known he existed until he’d paid her a visit a little over a month ago.
And he’d obviously decided to let Kylie deal with her identity crisis al on her own.
He seldom visited anymore, bringing a whole new meaning to deadbeat dads. Yup, Daniel was dead—died before she was born. Kylie wasn’t sure if they offered parenting classes in the hereafter, but she was tempted to suggest he find out. Because now, when he did drop by, she would catch him watching her and just when she started to ask him a question, he’d fade away, leaving only a cold chil and her unanswered questions.
“Okay,” Chris said, “release your hands, clear your mind, but whatever you do, do not break the circle.” Kylie, along with the crowd, fol owed his directions. Yet as she released her hands, Kylie’s mind refused to clear.
Was her deadbeat dad afraid she was going to ask for sex advice or something? That always had her mom disappearing from a room—running around in search of another give-this-to-your-teen pamphlet. Not that Kylie had actual y asked her mom for sex advice. Honestly, she was the last person Kylie would go to for that kind of advice. The mere mention of her being interested in a boy sent her mom into a panic as the letters S-E-X practical y flashed in her mom’s eyes. Thankful y, since Kylie had been shipped off to Shadow Fal s Camp, the supply of sex-related pamphlets had declined.