Whispers at Moonrise

argue that he couldn’t say that with certainty, but because she wanted to believe him, she bit back the words. Taking a breath, she stared down at the grass and tried to find peace in knowing that her grandfather was going to come in a couple of days. Tried to find peace in having spilled her troubles. And she did feel slightly better.
    “Have you asked Holiday?” He leaned in and his shoulder bumped into hers, his warmth, his soothing touch chasing away some of her angst.
    She shook her head. “Not yet. She’s still in the office with Burnett.” And Kylie still hadn’t mulled over the whole ghost issue. If someone’s ghost appeared to you when they weren’t dead, what did it mean? The possible answers started her heart shaking.
    “I think this is kind of important,” he said.
    “I know, but…”
    “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
    She glanced up. Was he reading her emotions or her mind? “Ghost problems,” she said.
    “What kind of problems?”
    Of all the campers, Derek was the only one who didn’t run away at the mention of ghosts. “This person isn’t dead.”
    “So it’s not a ghost.” Derek looked confused.
    Kylie bit down on her lip. “Yes … I mean, at first the spirit had the whole zombie thing going on—hanging flesh, and worms—but then it changed. And when it did, the face turned into someone I know.”
    “How could that be?” he asked.
    She paused. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a trick.”
    “Or not,” Derek said. “You don’t think someone’s going to die?”
    Not anyone else, she wanted to scream. “I don’t know.” She yanked a few blades of grass from the ground.
    “Who is it?” he asked. “Not someone here, is it?”
    Kylie’s chest tightened. She didn’t want to say it—afraid that if she said it aloud, it would make it so. “I just need to think it through.”
    Derek paled. “Oh, crap! Is it me?”
    “No.” She tossed the blades of grass and watched them whirl in the wind on their descent.
    When she looked back at him, she could feel him reading her emotions, deciphering their meaning. “You care a lot about this person.” His brows pinched. “Lucas?” She heard the pain in his voice from just saying the name.
    “No,” she said. “Can we drop it? I don’t want to talk about it. Please.”
    “So it is Lucas?” Derek asked.
    “What’s Lucas?” A deep, irate voice suddenly spoke up.
    Kylie looked up and saw Lucas step out of the trees. His eyes were an angry orange color. She flinched with guilt for a just a second, then fought it back. She hadn’t been doing anything wrong.
    “Nothing,” Derek bit out when Kylie didn’t speak. He stood up and took one step toward the office. Pausing, he looked back at her, and then glanced at Lucas. “We were just talking. Don’t go all were on her.”
    Lucas growled. Derek walked away, appearing unaffected by Lucas’s anger. Kylie grabbed another handful of grass and yanked it from the ground.
    “I don’t like this.” Lucas stared down at her.
    “We were just talking,” she said.
    “About me.”
    “I was telling him about a spirit and that … it looked like someone I care about, and he asked if it was you. You should feel good that he knows I care about you.”
    Lucas’s scowl deepened. Was it because of Derek or because she’d mentioned ghosts? Lucas’s inability to accept her working with the spirits hurt.
    “He has feelings for you,” Lucas countered.
    I know. “We were just talking.”
    “It makes me crazy.” His eyes glowed a deep, burnt orange color.
    “What makes you crazy? Me talking to Derek, or me talking about ghosts?”
    “Both.” His voice rang with such honesty that she found it hard to condemn him for it. “But mostly it’s the thought of you spending time with that fairy.”
    She flinched at his insult toward Derek. Then, unsure what to say, she stood up. Forgetting about her missing heel, she almost tripped. He caught her by the elbow.
    She met his gaze, still marked by his were anger. But his touch was tender and caring, with no hint of the fury she saw in his eyes. She remembered that some of his reactions were instinctual, which meant he shouldn’t be held accountable. Another part of her knew that instinctual or not, it didn’t make it right.
    She sighed. “We’ve already talked about this.”
    “Talked about what?” he asked.
    “Both things. I help spirits, Lucas. That’s probably never going to change.”
    “Yeah, but they scare