Whispers at Moonrise

Holiday snapped.
    “Shit, what?” Kylie asked, alarmed at the panic in Holiday’s voice.
    “Oh, Kylie,” Holiday murmured. And then she looked across the room and waved down Burnett, her arm motions serious.
    “What is it?” Kylie looked to the door, thinking someone unwanted, possibly Mario, had walked in.
    No Mario.
    “Damn it to hell and back!” Holiday whispered. “Kylie, where did you go?”
    “What do you mean? I’m right here. Standing right next to you.” Kylie looked down at her feet, but she saw only the floor. No sneakers, no legs. No Kylie.
    “Oh, shit!” she muttered, and while she hadn’t thought about it in quite a while, she remembered her dad telling her that they would work things out together. Was this it? Was this what dying felt like?

 
    Chapter Twenty-nine
    Wait, Kylie thought. If she was dead, wouldn’t she be on the floor in a crumpled, lifeless heap?
    “Oh, crap!” Kylie muttered when her mom, a dumbfounded look on her face, walked up to Holiday.
    “Where’s Kylie?” her mom asked.
    “She ran to … to the bathroom, I think, but … I’m not sure.” Holiday’s voice sounded an octave too high.
    Burnett stopped at her mom’s side, his serious gaze trying to read Holiday. “Something wrong?” His calm front almost sounded convincing, but Kylie saw the stress tightening his jawline.
    “Uh, Kylie … she … disappeared. I thought maybe you could find her.”
    Disappeared? So, she’d just disappeared. She wasn’t dead.
    “Disappeared?” All sorts of questions filled his eyes.
    Holiday nodded and didn’t break eye contact as if mentally telling him it was serious.
    And hell yeah, it was serious. She was freakin’ invisible.
    “It’s crazy.” Her mom sounded confused. “She was here and then … she vanished.”
    Vanished? Kylie suddenly remembered wishing she could vanish. Vanish like a ghost.
    Damn! Damn! Damn! If there was ever a lesson in the old adage of be careful for what you wish for, this was it.
    Questions flashed across her mind. Was she still a vampire? Had she turned back into a witch and accidentally wiggled her pinky when she made the declaration? Or was this completely connected to her being a chameleon? That’s when she recalled that her great-aunt and grandfather had gone poof, both from the car the first day they’d shown up at Shadow Falls, and at the cemetery. Was poof the same thing as vanishing?
    Her grandfather’s words echoed in her head. Come with us. We’ll help you understand everything. You need to learn who and what you are.
    More than ever, and maybe not even for the first time, Kylie wondered if he was right.
    *   *   *
    “You’ve lost her daughter?” John snapped. “What kind of place loses kids?”
    “We haven’t lost her,” Holiday said, but Kylie saw fresh panic flash in her eyes. “I’m sure she’ll show up any minute.”
    Her mom seemed to relax, but Kylie didn’t get a warm fuzzy feeling from Holiday’s tone. And when Kylie listened closely, she heard the camp leader’s heart beating to the tune of a lie.
    Crap! Crap! Crap! Kylie tried to think. She had to get herself out of this because … well, apparently she’d gotten herself into it.
    “I can do this,” she said, needing a little encouragement even if it was as fake as a mall Santa.
    She tried to rationalize. If she’d gotten this way by wishing it, maybe she could un-wish it. She started un-wishing, if you could call begging to everything holy in her mind to change her back as un-wishing. She closed her eyes and realized that if it worked, she’d magically appear. That would freak everyone out even more. “Go somewhere else,” she muttered to herself. “Somewhere private.” She dashed toward the bathrooms.
    Hurrying into the room, she heard voices but ignored them, and stormed into an empty stall. Breathing in, then breathing out, she closed her eyes, closed them really tight. “I wish … I wish I was visible.” She opened her eyes. Her gaze shot to her feet. Or to the space where her feet should have been, but weren’t.
    A knot formed in her throat; fear bounced around her chest like bumper cars. What if she stayed like this? What if … No! She’d been in worse situations. Heck, she’d been kidnapped and chained to a chair and survived. She’d been tossed off a cliff and came through it. All of a sudden, she questioned again if this was Wicca related. She wiggled her pinky. “Turn me visible. Turn me