The way Holiday said it, Kylie knew the camp leader had suffered through it herself. The thought that Kylie, too, might have to deal with it one day sent a sharp shiver racing down her spine.
"They mess with your head, Kylie. They..." She inhaled again. "To put it bluntly, they mentally rape you, try to break your spirit, and if you show the least bit of weakness, they can possess you. It's also believed, mostly with bad supernatural spirits, that they can take you with them to hell when they go. Legend says that they think if they can bring something good with them, they stand a chance of alleviating their own punishment."
"So how do I avoid meeting one?" Kylie asked, certain only that she didn't want to experience any of the things Holliday had just described.
"That's the thing. They are just like other ghosts. Some you might just stumble across, shortly after their demise. Others, if their powers are strong enough, will seek you out for a purpose."
Holiday must have sensed Kylie's fear, because she dropped her hand on top of Kylie's again. "If you ever find yourself in their presence, you have to remain strong."
"How?" Kylie asked, feeling her fear ebb with Holiday's calming touch.
"It's the same as shutting out the ghosts. Mentally, you need to put yourself in a different place, a place where you feel love and good things, where you experience life at its best. And hold tight to your faith, because they will try to convince you that all things good are frivolous, that they don't matter."
"Oh my gosh, you're back!" Miranda screamed at the doorway, and came rushing inside the cabin. The moment her vibrant spirit entered the room, it chased away the dismal cloud of emotion hovering over Kylie.
Miranda embraced Holiday, nearly turning over the chair in the process. "I'm so glad you're back. We need you here. I mean ... Burnett's okay, but ... he's not you."
Holiday arched a brow. "I hear he wasn't even himself for a while there."
Miranda frowned. "He told you about the whole kangaroo thing, didn't he."
"Yeah," Holiday said, and her brows tightened. "And I must say, I'm very disappointed with you, Miranda." She reached out and gripped Miranda's hand. "The next time you turn him into anything, do it when I'm here to enjoy it."
They all started laughing.
* * *
It was thirty minutes before Kylie and Holiday were able to pull away from Miranda to continue their private conversation. Especially when Miranda told Holiday about her sort of/kind of feeling that they had another mystical stalker in the camp. Kylie wondered if the stalker wasn't her little blue jay friend.
Now, Kylie and Holiday sat out on the front porch. The five o'clock sun, touched with a bit more golden hue, brushed against their faces. Kylie dangled her legs off its edge. Holiday did the same.
Kylie, barefoot, swayed her feet back and forth, and the longer blades of grass tickled the bottoms of her feet. Her mind went to the things she needed to talk to Holiday about.
"Did Burnett tell you about my asking about the FRU library?"
Holiday frowned.
Not a good sign.
"Yeah, he mentioned it."
"Why would they not let me see information about other supernaturals like myself if they had that information on file?" Frustration sounded in Kylie's tone. She hoped Holiday knew it wasn't targeted at her.
"I don't know," Holiday said, and Kylie believed her. "But I do know that the FRU is like any other government organization: they have skeletons in their own closet. Why, years ago, before I was born, most supernaturals considered all werewolves basically animals. They used to hurt them."
"Why?" Kylie asked, completely insulted on behalf of Lucas and the rest of his kind.
"Ignorance. Stupidity. Take your pick. It's the same thing that happened to a lot of minority groups. Supernaturals can act a lot more like humans than you'd think."
Holiday reached for Kylie's right hand and opened her palm. "I heard you caught a fireball that would have hit Miranda."
Kylie nodded and then asked the question she'd been wanting to ask since the night of the party. "Do you think this proves I'm a protector?"
Holiday shrugged as if she didn't think Kylie would like the answer. "Probably."
Holiday was right. She didn't like the answer. Especially when it just brought on more questions. "What does it really mean to be a protector? I've heard some of it. But ... okay, here's the thing. Miranda said that every protector she's ever heard of had been a full-blooded paranormal. And I'm not."
"I know." Holiday looked as confused as Kylie felt.
"What could that mean?"
"I don't know, but I could guess it means what I've known all along. Kylie Galen is special." She held up her hand. "I know you don't like hearing that, Kylie, but I think you better start getting used to the idea."
Fear, insecurity, and probably a dozen other negative emotions all washed over her. "What if I don't measure up?" she asked in a low whisper. "What if I'm too afraid to do what I have to do and I turn out to be one lousy protector?"
Holiday pulled one leg up on the porch, rested her chin on her knee, and gazed at Kylie as if she'd said something really stupid, like calling the earth square. "Were you scared when you caught that fireball?"
"No, but I didn't have time to be scared. If I'd known I was going to catch the fireball and had time to think about it, I'd probably have needed to carry an extra pair of panties with me, because I'd have probably pissed myself."
Holiday smiled. "Maybe, but you'd have still done it."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Kylie said.
"Please. Look at this whole Berta Littlemon/Catherine O'Connell issue. I'm scared for you to continue investigating this. I told you it's dangerous, but you refuse to drop it. You put the welfare of others before yourself."
Kylie hadn't looked at it like that, and she guessed Holiday had a point, but ... "I'm not a saint," she insisted. "I sin all the time."
Holiday lifted one eyebrow. "Say what?"
Kylie stared down at her toes for a second. Her pink nail polish was chipping, and so was her courage. Then she looked back up at Holiday's eyes and decided to confess. "Miranda said that protectors are like saints. Not only am I not a saint, I don't even want to be a saint. I want to live a normal life. I want to have fun." She thought of how it felt to kiss Lucas and blushed. "Maybe even sin a little."