Reborn

by C. C. Hunter

  The chameleon’s expression answered the question before she did. “She came right out and asked me. I had to tell her. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Great,” Della said. “She’s freaking afraid of me.”

  “No, she’s not,” Kylie whispered. “She’s just … trying to deal with it. I personally think she’s doing really well. I was afraid she’d rescind the invitation.” Kylie flinched as if realizing she’d said the wrong thing. “It’ll be fine, I promise. Remember, I was leery of you at first, too.”

  Because I’m a monster. Because my kind go around feeding on people.

  “Give my mom a chance, please,” Kylie whispered.

  Della let go of a deep emotional sigh. “You sure she’s not going to run a stake through my heart while I’m sleeping?”

  Kylie chuckled. “No, but she might take a bath in garlic.” When Della didn’t find the comment humorous, Kylie asked, “Did you and Steve have a fight?”

  Della decided denying it wouldn’t do any good. She’d end up telling them, she always did. “Yeah.”

  “Was he mad because you were coming here?”

  “He was mad about a bunch of stuff.” Della stared out the window at the trees passing by, her heart heavy.

  “What kind of stuff?” Kylie asked.

  Della glanced up and spotted Kylie’s mom staring at her. Again. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

  “Okay.” Kylie squeezed Della hand. The chameleon must have turned herself into a fae, because her touch was extra warm and comforting.

  Della felt the ache in her chest lessen, but no sooner had she relaxed than another chest-tensing thought hit. Chan. Was he involved with a gang? If so, was Chase involved? She needed to figure things out. And quickly.

  “Crap,” Kylie muttered under her breath.

  “Crap what?” Della muttered back.

  Kylie reached up in Della’s hair and pulled something out. It took her a second to realize what it was. Another feather.

  Oh, fracking hell! The ghost was back.

  Della swallowed a lump of panic down her throat. “I still think it’s here for you or Holiday,” she whispered to Kylie. “It showed up when Holiday and I were at the funeral.”

  “Yeah, but you were there,” Kylie whispered back. “And I’ve only seen it hanging out by your room, and I don’t think Holiday has seen it unless you’re around. So I still think it’s your uncle, or maybe your aunt.”

  Almost as if the ghost heard her, two more tiny white feathers spiraled past Della’s nose and landed on her lap—her lap and not Kylie’s.

  Della knocked them on the floorboard. Didn’t she have enough to deal with already?

  Chapter Seventeen

  The dang ghost still never showed himself or herself, but Kylie said it was in the car with them most of the ride. Ms. Galen kept turning the heat up and complaining about the weather getting cold too early. About five miles from Kylie’s house, the car warmed up and stayed warm as they pulled into the driveway.

  “Does this mean it won’t know where we are?” Della asked as they piled out of Kylie’s car.

  “Sorry, when a ghost’s attached to you they seem to have internal GPS. They want you; they find you.”

  “That sounds like stalking,” Della said.

  “It sort of is,” Kylie said. “Sorry.”

  “I love your house,” Miranda said to Ms. Galen as she bounced up the sidewalk in front of them.

  As Della admired the two-story home, she reached up and rubbed her temple. She’d been doing that a lot lately. The tiny but persistent headache wouldn’t go away. She wanted to blame it on Aunt Flo, but she had taken leave for the month already.

  “Thank you,” Ms. Galen answered. “I’m trying to sell it, but haven’t had any luck.” She glanced at Kylie. “I know she doesn’t want me to move, but it’s too big for me.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want you to move,” Kylie said. “I just … I’ll miss it.”

  Della considered how she’d feel if her parents sold their house. It would hurt, but nothing compared to how she felt losing the family who still lived there. And after her father’s visit, it really felt as if she’d lost them. For one second, she wondered if faking her death wouldn’t have been easier. Then that little spark of hope that she might have an uncle and even an aunt somewhere flickered to life.

  She started walking up the sidewalk to the front porch. The sun hung low, painting the western sky in an array of colors, while darkness worked at chasing it away. A cool wind brushed past and stirred the trees. A few dead leaves cascaded to the ground, reminding Della of feathers.

  She leaned back into Kylie. “How long does it usually take before a ghost appears, or tells you what it wants?” Della asked, hanging on to that hope that her uncle or aunt was alive.

  “That depends on the ghost,” Kylie said.

  Della sighed. She hated waiting. But maybe she wouldn’t have to wait long. The trip to the funeral home could shed some light on things. She looked up at the darkening sky, which seemed to match her mood. She could use some light.

  Light that didn’t come with any kind of trouble. If she got Kylie and Miranda in trouble, or God forbid, if they got hurt, she was going to feel bad. Really, really bad.

  An hour later, Miranda, Della, and Kylie were on the sofa, delivered pizza on the coffee table, surfing through Netflix looking for a good movie. Della had managed to eat one slice of pepperoni, and was trying to let go of her concern about tomorrow’s visit to the funeral home. But the prickle of worry stayed with her.

  Popping off the sofa, she went to the kitchen to grab another soda, hoping to get the aftertaste of the pizza from her mouth. She’d consumed a big glass of blood for lunch today so she wouldn’t need any more until she was back at Shadow Falls on Sunday. The last thing she wanted was for Kylie’s mom to see her drinking it. Who wanted to be looked at with disgust?

  Almost as if her thoughts had conjured her, Ms. Galen walked into the kitchen from the opposite hall. She came to an abrupt halt when she saw Della.

  “Oh … uh, did you need something?” Ms. Galen said, stumbling over her words.

  Fear brightened her eyes, and seeing it hurt. A couple pints of your blood, Della almost blurted out, because Della could tell from her expression that that was what the woman expected her to say. Forcing herself to play nice, she told the truth. “I was just grabbing another soda.”

  “They’re right there.” She motioned downward, her feet firmly planted in the doorway, as if she was frightened to get any closer. “In the bottom drawer.”

  Della grabbed a diet drink, then looked back at Kylie’s mom. The fear in her eyes seemed stronger, and before she could stop herself she said, “You know I’m not going to hurt you, don’t you?”

  Ms. Galen’s face brightened to a nice shade of embarrassed pink. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m being pretty transparent, aren’t I?”

  “Afraid so.” Della popped the top, the fizzing sound filled her ears, and she found herself regretting her bluntness. “But I understand it’s hard to accept. And I appreciate you trusting me enough to invite me here.” With her point made, she started out.

  “Your mom sounded nice,” Ms. Galen blurted out, as if trying to make peace.

  Della turned around. If the woman was willing to try, why shouldn’t she? “Thanks. And thank you for talking to her.”

  Ms. Galen toyed with the bottom of her blouse, obviously still nervous. “She doesn’t know, does she? I mean about you being vampire.”

  Della flinched. “You didn’t say anything, did you?”

  “Oh, no. Burnett made it very clear I was never to speak with anyone about any of this unless it was cleared by him. I … I was just curious, I guess.”

  “Curious about what?” Della asked.

  “How it happens.… Did you get bit by another vampire?”

  “No. I mean, a few people are turned that way. Most vampires who aren’t born with the live virus, meaning both parents are alrea
dy vampires, are turned when they have an open wound and they come in contact with another vampire.”

  “How does a regular person know if they are a carrier of the virus?” she asked, as if frightened she might be one of them.

  “They usually don’t. But the FRU released statistics that less than one percent of the population are carriers. So I don’t think you have to worry.”

  Ms. Galen nodded as if embarrassed again. “So I guess that makes you kind of special,” she offered with a smile. This one actually looked genuine.

  “That’s one way of looking at it,” Della said, but she wasn’t sure she’d agree. Being “special,” as Ms. Galen put it, had cost her a lot. Her family. Her life as she’d known it.

  Right then, Della wondered, if Kylie’s mom could accept this, why couldn’t her parents? Was it possible that someday she could tell her parents the truth?

  Ms. Galen walked closer and rested her hand on Della’s shoulder as if to show she wasn’t afraid anymore. But Della still felt the slight tremble in the touch. Not that she didn’t appreciate the gesture; she did. So much so, her heart tightened with unwanted emotion.

  “Kylie’s told me how much you and Miranda mean to her,” Ms. Galen continued. “She said you two were her friends when no one else wanted to accept her. I want you to know that I appreciate that.”

  “She’s been a good friend to me, too,” Della said.

  The woman shifted a bit closer, as if to hug Della. To avoid it, to avoid seeing the shock in her eyes when she felt Della’s cold temperature, she took a step back. “Thanks for the drink.” Thanks for trying to accept me.

  “The refrigerator is yours. Take anything you like.”

  When Della stepped back into the living room, Kylie looked concerned, as if she’d heard them talking. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” Della said. “I don’t think she’s gonna stake me in the heart tonight now.”

  “I wouldn’t have let her do that,” Miranda said, and they both giggled.

  “I told you it was going to be okay,” Kylie said. “My mom has her flaws, but she’s not all bad.”

  “You’re lucky.” Della plopped on the sofa on the other side of Kylie.

  Miranda leaned forward and grinned at Della. “Why is she lucky? Because she has two of the coolest friends ever?”

  “No.” Della rolled her eyes. “Because she has a cool mom.” Della recalled the look on her father’s face when she’d tried to hug him. He’d never accept her. She was kidding herself to think he ever would.

  “Well, that, too.” Miranda glanced at Kylie. “Your mom is pretty hip.”

  “I think I’m lucky to have all of you.” The chameleon smiled. “I love it that you’re here at my house. It’s like I finally get to bring you into this part of my life.” Kylie reached out and squeezed both Della’s and Miranda’s arms.

  “Group hug, group hug.” Miranda bounced off the sofa, stood in front of them, and wrapped her arms around both her and Kylie. Della sighed and tolerated it. Then again, it wasn’t so hard to tolerate. Every day the bond between the three of them felt even more special. The warm mushy feeling swelling in her chest made Della reconsider bringing them with her to the funeral home.

  What if something went bad? “You know what, guys,” Della said, pulling out of the hug. “I think tomorrow I should go in the funeral home alone. Just let me—”

  “No,” both Kylie and Miranda said at the same time.

  Kylie frowned. “You promised Holiday you wouldn’t do anything risky. And while I don’t see this as dangerous, going alone is a risk. And that would mean you weren’t keeping your promise. Seriously, what if something crazy happens and it becomes dangerous?”

  Which was exactly why Della didn’t want them there. “I think they’d be more likely to talk to me, a vampire, if I’m alone.”

  “I can become a vampire,” Kylie said.

  “But if two of us go in there they might feel threatened. Let me go in by myself.”

  “No,” Kylie said again, and her voice rang firm like it did when she turned into a protector.

  Yet, protector or not, she could still be hurt. And Miranda was as defenseless as a puppy. Plus it wasn’t just about them getting hurt. It was about them getting caught and getting their asses put in slings by Burnett. If Della got caught and landed in the lap of trouble, so be it, but she didn’t want to bring her friends with her.

  Della let go of a frustrated gulp of air. “I thought about this. If I go in alone, I have two choices. If the old man sounds cooperative, I’ll just ask questions. If I sense he won’t talk, I can pretend I’m there to plan my own fake funeral. If he goes for it, then at least we’ll know for sure that he does the fake funerals and he was behind Chan’s, and probably my uncle’s, which would confirm my uncle might still be alive.”

  “You’re not going in alone,” Miranda said.

  “Wait. She can go in alone.” Kylie smiled. “Or at least that’s what everyone will assume. I’ll go invisible and I’ll hold Miranda’s hand and then they won’t know we’re there. That way, if trouble starts up, I’ll go badass on them. And Miranda will…” Kylie looked at Miranda as if she knew the witch didn’t want to feel as if she didn’t contribute. “She’ll turn them into kangaroos,” Kylie finished, and grinned.

  “I could do that with just a twitch of my pinkie,” Miranda said, and held up her hand.

  “That just might work,” Della said, liking Kylie’s plan. Liking it a lot. If Della was careful not to start trouble, then no one would even know Kylie and Miranda were there. And Della would work really hard to avoid any chaos.

  “Or I could give them pimples,” Miranda blurted out. “And some nasty jock-itch rash on their boys. And we know how seriously guys worry about their boys.”

  Della couldn’t help it: She laughed. How had she gotten so lucky to find these two?

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Drive safe!” Kylie’s mom waved from the doorway the next morning as the three of them got into Kylie’s car.

  Safe was the key word, Della thought, and got into the backseat. She still thought Kylie’s plan was great, but it hadn’t stopped her from imagining the worst-case scenarios.

  Miranda climbed into the front seat. She had called shotgun last night before they’d gone to bed. The three of them had piled into Kylie’s queen-size bed, and talked about life and boys. Kylie had tried to get Della to talk about Steve, but the pain from their argument just felt too raw, so she avoided tiptoeing down that path of thorns.

  Della hadn’t slept well last night, worrying about those thorns and the word “safety.” And occasionally worrying about feathers showing up again.

  But no feathers appeared. Instead, she’d gone over things in her mind time and time again, rationalizing that this wasn’t too risky. All they were doing was going to a funeral home to ask some old geezer who put makeup on dead people a few questions.

  “And have fun,” Ms. Galen added as Kylie inched the car out of the driveway.

  A geezer and dead people. We’re gonna have a blast. Della waved back, her thoughts going back to the safety issue. The old geezer was probably vampire, and if he didn’t like her questions, it could mean trouble. But, the rational side of her brain countered, he was helping vampires, so he couldn’t be all bad. Just how risky could this be?

  “Call me and check in,” Kylie’s mom yelled louder.

  They’d told Kylie’s mom they were going shopping. And because Kylie didn’t want it to be a lie, she insisted they actually go to one store. Leave it to Kylie to worry about lying when there was so much more at stake.

  While Kylie drove, she had Miranda poke the funeral home’s address into her GPS. The witch kept misspelling the name of the street or getting the street numbers backwards. Being dyslexic, she had problems with stuff like that. As tempting as it was to tell her to just pass the dang thing back, Della didn’t. For Miranda, being dyslexic was as touchy a subject as being cold was to Della.


  Della waited until the GPS spit out directions to start going over the plan. “Park down the street a couple of blocks and we’ll walk up. You can’t open doors when you’re invisible, right?”

  “No,” Kylie said.

  “Then when you two go invisible, stay close behind me. I don’t want to have to worry about you while I’m trying to get information.”

  “You don’t worry. We’ll be right behind you.”

  The GPS announced they were arriving at their destination. Kylie pulled past the funeral home and then parked a half a block up the street.

  They got out of the car. The morning sun was bright, the October air crisp. The feel of the cold on her skin reminded Della that she still might have a slight temperature. Just how long was this flu thing gonna last?

  Kylie moved and stood behind the car, looking around as if checking whether it was clear to go invisible.

  Della did the same. One car whizzed past, a block down, a few people strolled down the street, but no one was around who could actually spot what was going on.

  “All set?” Kylie looked at Della.

  Della nodded, and her heart raced at the thought of finding answers. In a few minutes, she actually might know for sure if she had an uncle and aunt out there.

  Kylie took Miranda’s hand and asked, “You ready?”

  “Yup,” Miranda said. “Let’s do it. I’ve been practicing my jock-itch curse.” She wiggled her pinkie. And right before Della’s eyes they went invisible.

  Della started down the sidewalk toward the funeral home. Because of Burnett’s insistence that Kylie use her invisibility talent with extreme caution and never to invade anyone’s privacy, Kylie hadn’t practiced this gift very often. It felt odd knowing that Kylie and Miranda were behind her when she couldn’t hear, see, or smell them. She sniffed again, but got nothing. Then again, with the craziness of her senses lately, she might not have known they were there. The temptation to talk to them rose, but she decided she’d better not.

  With each step she told herself it was silly to worry. All she was doing was asking a few questions.