Taken at Dusk (2 page)

Wasn’t that a little strong? They could just like her. That would be fine. Loving someone was … complicated. Even liking someone a whole lot came with a downside, such as a certain good-looking half-fae deciding that being close to her was too hard … so he left.

Yup, Derek was definitely an example of the downside of liking someone too much. And he probably was the reason she hesitated to accept Lucas’s kisses.

One problem at a time.
She pushed that thought away as she stepped into the open door of the conference room.

The elderly man sitting at the table rested his clasped hands on the large oak table. “What kind of trouble did she get into?”

“What do you mean?” Holiday cut her green gaze to the door, and she pushed her long red hair over her shoulder.

The old man continued, “We researched Shadow Falls on the Internet and it has a reputation for being a place for troubled teens.”

Freaking great!
Daniel’s parents thought she was a juvenile delinquent.

“You shouldn’t believe everything you read online.” Only the slightest hint of annoyance sounded in Holiday’s tone. “Actually, we’re a school for very gifted teens who are trying to find themselves.”

“Please tell me it’s not drugs,” said the silver-haired woman sitting beside the man. “I’m not sure I could deal with that.”

“I’m not a druggie,” Kylie said, sympathizing with Della, her vampire roommate, who had to deal with this suspicion from her parents. All heads turned toward Kylie, and feeling put on the spot, she held her breath.

“Oh, my,” the woman said. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

Kylie eased into the room. “I’m not offended. I just wanted that cleared up.” She met the woman’s faded gray eyes and shifted her focus to the old man, searching … but for what? A resemblance, perhaps. Why? She knew they weren’t Daniel’s real parents. But they had raised him, had probably instilled in him their mannerisms and qualities.

Kylie thought of Tom Galen, her stepdad, the man who’d raised her, the man who until recently she’d believed was her real father. Though Kylie had yet to come to terms with his abandonment of his seventeen-year marriage to her mom, she couldn’t deny she’d taken on some of his mannerisms. Not that she didn’t see more of Daniel in herself—from her supernatural DNA to her physical features.

“We read this was a home for troubled teens.” An apology rang in the old man’s voice.

She recalled Daniel telling her that his adoptive parents had loved him and would have loved her if they’d known her.

Love.
Emotion crowded her chest. Trying to decipher the sensation, Kylie remembered Nana—her mom’s mother—and how much she’d adored her, how much she’d missed her when she died. Was it knowing the Brightens were old—that their time was short—that made Kylie want to pull back?

As if the thought of death had somehow caused it, a ghostly chill filled the room.
Daniel?
She called to him with her mind, but the coldness prickling her skin was different.

As frigid air entered Kylie’s lungs, the spirit materialized behind Mrs. Brighten. While the apparition appeared feminine, her bald head reflected the light above. Raw-looking stitches ran across her bare scalp and caused Kylie to flinch.

“We’re just concerned,” said Mr. Brighten. “We didn’t know you existed.”

“I … understand,” Kylie answered, unable to look away from the spirit that stared at the elderly couple in puzzlement.

Seeing the spirit’s face again, Kylie realized it was the same woman from earlier today. Obviously, her shaved head and stitches were a clue. But a clue to what?

The spirit looked at Kylie.
“I’m so confused.”

Me too,
Kylie thought, unsure if the spirit could read her mind the way the others had.

“So many people want me to tell you something.”

“Who?” Realizing she’d whispered the word out loud, she bit her lip. Was it Daniel? Nana?
What do they want you to tell me?

The spirit met Kylie’s gaze as if she understood.
“Someone lives. Someone dies.”

More puzzles, Kylie thought, and looked away from the ghost. She saw Holiday glance around, sensing the spirit. Mrs. Brighten looked at the ceiling as if searching for an AC vent to blame for the chill. Luckily the spirit faded, taking the cold with her.

Pushing the ghost from her mind, Kylie looked back at the Brightens. Her gaze took in the mop of thick gray hair on the elderly man. His pale complexion told her that he’d been a redhead in his younger years.

For some reason, Kylie felt compelled to wiggle her eyebrows and check the couple’s brain patterns. It was a little supernatural trick she’d only recently learned, one that mostly allowed supernaturals to recognize one another and humans. Mr. and Mrs. Brighten were human.

Normals and probably decent people. So why did Kylie feel so jittery?

She studied the couple as they studied her. She waited for them to make some declaration of how much she looked like Daniel. But it didn’t come.

Instead, Mrs. Brighten said, “We’re really excited to meet you.”

“Me too,” Kylie said.
As well as scared to death.
She sat in the chair beside Holiday, opposite the Brightens. Reaching under the table, she sought out Holiday’s hand and gave it a squeeze. A welcome calm flowed from the camp leader’s touch.

“Can you tell me about my father?” Kylie asked.

“Of course.” Mrs. Brighten’s expression softened. “He was a very charismatic child. Popular. Smart. Outgoing.”

Kylie rested her free hand on the table. “Not like me, then.” She bit her lip, not meaning to say it out loud.

Mrs. Brighten frowned. “I wouldn’t say that. Your camp leader was just telling us how wonderful you are.” She reached across the table to rest her warm hand on Kylie’s. “I can’t believe we have a granddaughter.”

There was something about the woman’s touch that stirred Kylie’s emotions. Not just the heat of the woman’s skin—it was the thinness, the slight tremble of the fingers, and the defined bones that time and arthritis had changed. Kylie remembered Nana—remembered how her grandmother’s gentle touch had grown more fragile before she died. Without warning, grief swelled in Kylie’s chest. Grief for Nana, and maybe even the forewarning of what she would feel for Daniel’s parents when their time came. Considering their age, that time would come too soon.

“When did you learn Daniel was your father?” Mrs. Brighten’s hand still rested on Kylie’s wrist. It felt oddly comforting.

“Just recently,” she said through a knot of emotion. “My parents are divorcing and the truth sort of came out.” That wasn’t altogether a lie.

“A divorce? You poor child.”

The old man nodded in agreement, and Kylie noticed his eyes were blue—like her dad’s and hers. “We’re glad you chose to find us.”

“So very glad.” Mrs. Brighten’s voice trembled. “We’ve never stopped missing our son. He died so young.” A quiet sensation of loss, of shared grief, entered the room.

Kylie bit her tongue to keep from telling them how she’d come to love Daniel herself. From assuring them that he had loved them. So many things she longed to ask them, to tell them, but couldn’t.

“We brought pictures,” Mrs. Brighten said.

“Of my dad?” Kylie leaned forward.

Mrs. Brighten nodded and shifted in her chair. Moving with old bones, she pulled a brown envelope from her big white old-lady purse. Kylie’s heart raced with eagerness to see the pictures of Daniel. Had he looked like her when he was young?

The woman passed the envelope to Kylie, and she opened it as quickly as she could.

Her throat tightened when she saw the first image—a young Daniel, maybe six, without his front teeth. She could remember the images of her own toothless school pictures, and she could swear the resemblance was amazing.

The photos took her through Daniel’s life—from when he was a young teen with long hair and frayed jeans to when he was an adult. In the adult photo, he was with a group of people. Kylie’s throat tightened even more when she realized who was standing beside him. Her mother.

Her gaze shot up. “That’s my mom.”

Mrs. Brighten nodded. “Yes, we know.”

“You do?” Kylie asked, confused. “I didn’t think you ever met her.”

“We suspected,” Mr. Brighten spoke up. “After we learned about you, we suspected that she might have been the one who was in the picture.”

“Oh.” Kylie looked back down at the images and wondered how they could have gotten all that from one photo. Not that it matttered. “Can I keep these?”

“Of course you may,” Mrs. Brighten said. “I made copies. Daniel would have wanted you to have them.”

Yes, he would.
Kylie recalled him trying to materialize as if he had something important to tell her. “My mom loved him,” Kylie added, recalling her mom’s concerns that the Brightens might resent her for not attempting to find them earlier. But they didn’t seem to harbor any negative feelings.

“I’m sure she did.” Mrs. Brighten leaned in and touched Kylie’s hand again. Warmth and genuine emotion flowed from the touch. It almost … almost felt magical.

A sudden beep of Kylie’s phone shattered the fragile silence. She ignored the incoming text, feeling almost mesmerized by Mrs. Brighten’s eyes. Then, for reasons Kylie didn’t understand, her heart opened up.

Maybe she did want them to love her. Maybe she wanted to love them as well. It didn’t matter how little time they had left. Or that they weren’t her biological grandparents. They had loved her father and lost him. Just as she had. It only seemed right that they love each other.

Was that what Daniel had wanted to tell her? Kylie glanced down at the photographs one more time and then slipped them back into the envelope, knowing she would spend hours studying them later.

Kylie’s phone rang. She moved to shut it off and saw Derek’s name on the screen. Her heart missed a beat. Was he calling to apologize for leaving? Did she want him to apologize?

Another phone rang. This time it was Holiday’s cell.

“Excuse me.” Holiday rose and started to leave the room as she took the call. She came to an abrupt stop at the door. “Slow down,” she said into the phone. The tightness in the camp leader’s voice changed the mood in the room. Holiday swung back around and stepped closer to Kylie.

“What is it?” Kylie muttered.

Holiday pressed a hand on Kylie’s shoulder, then snapped her phone shut and focused on the Brightens. “There’s been an emergency. We’ll have to reschedule this meeting.”

“What’s wrong?” Kylie asked.

Holiday didn’t answer. Kylie glanced back at the Brightens’ disappointed faces and she felt that same emotion weaving its way through her chest. “Can’t we—”

“No,” Holiday said. “I’m going to have to ask you folks to leave.
Now.
”

The camp leader’s tone was punctuated by the jarring sound of the cabin’s front door opening and slamming against the wall. Both of the elderly Brightens flinched and then stared at the door as the sound of thundering footsteps raced toward the conference room.

Chapter Two

Three minutes later, Kylie stood in the parking lot and watched the Brightens’ silver Cadillac drive away. She turned to glare at Della and Lucas, who’d stormed into the office and interrupted her meeting with her grandparents. Perry had been with them, too, but he’d wisely disappeared. Holiday, who had followed them outside, was on the phone again.

“Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” Kylie asked, feeling as if her chance to discover more about her father were disappearing along with the Cadillac. She suddenly realized she still held the brown envelope of images of Daniel, and she clutched them tighter.

“Don’t get your panties in a wad. We’re just watching your back.” The tips of Della’s canines peeked through the corners of her lips. Her dark eyes, with a slight slant, and her straight black hair hinted at her part Asian heritage.

“Watching my back for what?”

“Derek called.” Holiday closed her phone and stepped into the circle. “He was worried.” Her phone rang again, and after looking at the call log, she held up a finger. “Sorry. One minute.”

Patience wearing thin, Kylie looked back at Della and Lucas. “What’s up?”

Lucas moved in. “Burnett phoned us and asked us to make our presence known to the visitors.” His gaze met hers and, as earlier, concern flickered in his blue eyes.

Burnett, a thirty-something vampire, worked for the FRU—Fallen Research Unit—a branch of the FBI whose job it was to govern the supernaturals. He was also part owner of Shadow Falls. When Burnett gave an order, he expected people to obey. And they usually did.

“Why?” Kylie asked. “I needed to ask them questions.” Unexpectedly, the memory of how Mrs. Brighten’s hand felt on hers flashed in her mind—gentle, fragile. Emotions came at Kylie from every direction.

“Burnett never gives his reasons,” Della said. “He gives orders.”

Kylie glanced at Holiday, who was still on the phone. She looked worried, and Kylie felt Holiday’s emotions join the others already dancing along her spine.

“I don’t understand.” She fought the tightness in her throat.

Lucas stepped closer. So close that she could smell his scent—a scent that reminded her of how the dew-kissed woods smelled first thing in the morning.

His hand came up and she thought he was going to reach for her, but he lowered his hand just as quickly. She fought against disappointment.

Holiday hung up the phone. “That was Burnett.” She stepped forward and rested a hand on Kylie’s shoulder.

She didn’t want to be calmed; she wanted answers. So she removed the camp leader’s hand. “Just tell me what happened.
Please.
”

“Derek called,” Holiday said. “He went to see the P.I. who helped you find your grandparents and found him unconscious in his office. Then Derek discovered the man’s phone on the floor outside of his office with blood on it. Bottom line, Derek doesn’t think the P.I. sent that text to you about your grandparents. He called Burnett, who’s there now.”

Kylie tried to understand what Holiday was saying. “But if the P.I. didn’t send the text, who did?”