She'd gotten halfway to the office when her lungs finally demanded more oxygen. Drawing in deep breaths, she bent her knees slightly and rested her palms on her lower thighs. Staring down at her bare feet, she fought to keep images of the dreams from playing like a bad video in her head.
"Just a dream," she whispered into the dark silence.
And that's when she noticed it. The stillness. The dark dead silence. The kind of silence that meant she wasn't alone. The lack of cold told her this wasn't a spirit. She remembered the vampire who'd dared to enter the camp. The one Burnett insisted could have fed on her if that had been its intent. Was it back to finish the job?
She stood erect. Her first instinct was to run.
Her second was to scream.
Her third instinct, not nearly as strong as the first two, was to pull up her big girl panties and face whoever-or whatever-it was.
Before she actually fully embraced option number three, the world around her came back to life. Finding comfort in the frogs, an occasional bird, and the chirp of insects, she pushed back the panic from her chest.
No doubt the last few days had made her a bit suspicious. A second of silence in dawn's symphony didn't mean she was being followed.
Or at least not by a vampire. For some reason she remembered ... She cut her eyes to the edge of the path, where the trees loomed as if guarding the woods. No golden wolf eyes peered out at her from the darkness. No creatures of the night either. Obviously, the only thing following her right now was her own paranoia. Brought on stronger by the nightmare.
Letting go of another deep gulp of held-in oxygen, she started back down the path. She got a few more feet when she heard it. Before she could react, the whish of early morning air blasted past her.
Prepared to fight for her life, thinking only of rogue vampires, determined to prove she was not easy prey, she raised her arms.
Then she saw it.
Not a vampire.
The huge bird-a cross between a large blue heron and something that might have existed in prehistoric ages-parked its feathered ass in front of her. It flapped wings that had a seven- or eight-foot span. Shocked, and still not quite believing her eyes, Kylie gasped. The thing towered over her by a good two feet. Unsure what to do, she took one step back. The sparkles started forming immediately.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she felt stupid for not guessing right away. "That wasn't funny," she hissed when Perry appeared.
"What wasn't funny?" he asked, in a serious tone that she'd seldom heard leave Perry's lips.
"You scared the crap out of me, that's what. I'm really sick and tired of-"
"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I saw you running. I wanted to make sure everything was okay."
She didn't know if it was his tone or his expression, but she knew he'd told the truth. He hadn't been pulling a joke. He'd been concerned.
"Everything's fine." Yet when she got a better look into his eyes, she realized nothing was fine.
Perry, the practical jokester, was in a world of pain. Almost a mirror reflection of the pain she saw in Miranda's eyes. And it was so stupid. If they both cared so much why didn't they just move past the whole Kevin thing?
"She really likes you, Perry," Kylie said before she could stop herself.
"She likes Kevin, too."
"She doesn't like Kevin. He kissed her, that's all. And you two weren't even going out."
"She knew I liked her," he said. "I sat with her almost every day at lunch."
"Yeah, but a boyfriend is supposed to do more than just sit with you at lunch."
"I know that," he smarted back. "And I would have ... I was just waiting for the right time."
"And why isn't now the right time?"
"It's too late," he said.
She shook her head. "You're really going to let a kiss come between you and someone you really care about? Are you that-"
"Stubborn?" he finished. "Yeah, it's part of being a shape-shifter. Which, obviously, you know nothing about because you almost got yourself killed."
"But if you care about her then-"
"Cared," he said. "I cared about her. Miranda's history." Little flickers of light started forming around him. "Oh," he said. "Thanks for trying to protect me the other morning. But seriously, don't ever do it again." The giant bird reappeared. The flap of its wings moving past sent Kylie's hair up in the air and at the same time a deep ache fluttered to the pit of her stomach.
The golden hue of light filling the office window met Kylie as she took that last turn. She stopped and let herself just stare at the window, remembering the somber look in Perry's eyes and wishing she could change that. Moving up the steps, she opened the door and called out Holiday's name so she wouldn't be worried about who visited at this ungodly hour.
"In my office," Holiday called back, and Kylie moved into the room. Holiday motioned for Kylie to sit down. Dropping into the chair, Kylie slumped back in the seat.
"Are you okay?" Holiday asked, sorting through a stack of mail. Kylie sighed. "Miranda's still depressed. I just ran into Perry, and I tried to talk to him but he's not listening. Not that he doesn't look as miserable as Miranda. He's not even making any jokes. Della is PMSing and therefore is losing her patience with Miranda because all Miranda wants to do is eat ice cream and whimper over losing Perry."
Kylie stopped to breathe for one second, then continued. She was babbling, but she couldn't stop. "Not that it's really Miranda or the PMS making Della so difficult. It's the idea of going home for parents weekend and spending it with her family. But Miranda, even when she's not depressed, has never liked dealing with Della's mood swings. So now, Della and Miranda are threatening to rip each other's hearts out and feed them to my cat. Actually, I think Della wanted Miranda's liver, it was Miranda who's going for Della's heart. So to answer your question ... No, nothing is okay."
Holiday looked up from the mail and offered one word. "Interesting."
"What's interesting?" Kylie had a vague flashback of being in Dr. Day's office and being psychoanalyzed.
Holiday's gaze shifted back to the mail. "Several things actually." She set a piece of mail apart from the others before looking up again. "But let's start with the fact that I didn't ask about Miranda, or Della, or Perry. I asked how you were doing."