Whispers at Moonrise

chest. Sincerity and … guilt. For what?
    He brushed her hair behind her ear. “You know I have to do this to get on the Council. I wouldn’t do any of this if it wasn’t for that. And … when it’s over, it’s over.”
    “What’s over? What does he want you to do?”
    “He just … He’s crazy and I have to go along with him for now. Please … just understand for a little longer. In less than a month, the Council will make their choice. A month is all I need and then I don’t have to go along with his plans.”
    “What plans?” She felt a touch of resentment swell inside her. “I hate your secrets.”
    “I know,” he said. “I hate them, too. But you have to trust me on this.”
    For some crazy reason, when he said trust, she sensed he meant something … more. More as in … “Is Fredericka going?”
    “No,” he said. “Just me.”
    “Not even Clara?” she asked, still confused about the emotions she read in him.
    “No. She might come for a while but not stay.” He pulled her against him and they just sat there for the longest time not talking. Her heart hurt for him because she sensed how much he really didn’t want to go, didn’t want to do whatever it was his father had planned. But he was going and was probably doing it—whatever it was. And he felt guilty about doing it, too. Why?
    “Will you call me?” she finally asked.
    “I’ll try, but if he’s monitoring my calls, I can’t be caught…”
    “Talking to me,” she finished for him.
    He exhaled and she knew it was the truth before he answered. “I don’t like it.”
    Neither did she. Not even a little bit.
    A second passed and then he said, “You didn’t promise me that you won’t go see your grandfather until I get back.”
    “I can’t promise,” she said, aggravated that he wanted promises and answers from her, but still held so much back. “I’ll do what I have to do.” And he’d just have accept it, as she was trying to accept what he’d told her, or rather what he hadn’t told her.
    *   *   *
    Monday morning, the first-day-of-school jitters at Shadow Falls didn’t feel any different from all Kylie’s first-day jitters. She was both excited and anxious about being forced into a room full of people who seemed to know some secret to life, a secret she didn’t have.
    In spite of knowing what she was, and being surrounded by other supernaturals, she still felt like the outsider—the floater, floating to one group and then another, and not really belonging anywhere.
    No doubt she’d follow Della and Miranda and socialize with whoever they hung out with, and their friends wouldn’t reject Kylie, but she wouldn’t get that sense of belonging. Just as it had been in her old school. Only difference was that she would have been with Sara, another misfit.
    While putting on her makeup, Kylie thought about Sara. They hadn’t talked in weeks but Kylie would change that later. While she accepted they had changed and probably didn’t have nearly as much in common as they once had, Sara was still … Sara. And today, Kylie missed her more than ever.
    The morning air had a touch of fall to it. Deciding what to wear, and how to wear her hair, had taken way more time than it should have. She hadn’t thought she’d even care, since Lucas wasn’t here, but the vibe had been contagious as Miranda and Della had worked to get themselves picture perfect.
    Kylie hadn’t dressed up for anyone. Yet when Derek looked over from the fae breakfast table, his eyes told her she looked pretty. She found herself smiling and then that smile vanished and she started missing Lucas.
    After breakfast, they had Meet Your Campmate hour. Kylie drew Nikki’s name, the new shape-shifter, the girl Miranda accused of having a crush on Perry. Kylie had worried that the new camper would pepper her with questions about the glowing episode, but nope. All Nikki wanted to talk about was Perry. Miranda had been right. The girl had a serious thing for Perry. Not that Kylie suspected Perry would play along. Nevertheless, before the hour ended, Kylie had nicely mentioned that Perry was already otherwise committed.
    The girl had nicely ignored her, too.
    The hour hadn’t ended when Kylie debated what, if anything, she’d tell Miranda. Jealousy was an ugly emotion. Kylie was lucky that Fredericka hadn’t gone with Lucas to his dad’s place, or she’d have been battling the green-eyed emotion herself.
    Kylie’s first class was