Reborn

Chapter Thirty-five

“You’re hot, Della,” Steve said.

“So are you,” she answered.

“No!” He pulled his hand out of her shirt and passed it over his face. “Not hot.” He shook his head. “You are sexier than hell, but what I mean is that you still have a fever. What’s going on?”

“Oh. I … I’m sure it’s not a big deal.” She told him what she’d been telling herself for the last few weeks. “I don’t think I have a fever, I’m just not as cold.” And not wanting to think about being sick, she knew what would distract her. She tried to kiss him again.

He put his hand between her mouth and his. “It could be a big deal. And if you aren’t as cold, then it means you have a fever. Now get back in your seat.”

“Why?”

“I’m driving you back to the office so Dr. Whitman can check you out.”

“No.” Della rested her forehead against his.

“Why the hell not?” He leaned his head back and studied her face.

“Because … I’m fine. And I don’t want to worry Burnett and Holiday right now. If I’m not back to normal in a few days I’ll come in. Okay? Or better yet, I’ll have Kylie do some of her healing-hands stuff on me.”

His expression filled with disappointment. “Healers can’t cure everything.” He studied her. “What are your symptoms?”

I don’t have a rash. Wasn’t that what was important? “Steve, I’m fine. And for your information, Kylie cured her friend’s cancer. I’m sure she can take care of a little virus.” She felt better saying that, too. But if she told Steve she suspected she had the same thing as Chan, he’d freak. A freaking Steve she couldn’t handle.

“What are your symptoms?” he repeated adamantly. “Are you hurting anywhere?”

“No … well, I had a headache for a while, but it’s gone now.” She wasn’t going to lie, just downplay it a bit.

“And?” he asked.

She hadn’t said “and,” but Steve had always been able to read her. “This stays between us,” she said. “Doctor-patient privilege, right?”

He glared at her. “You’re sitting on my lap. I had my hand up your shirt.”

“It’s your shirt,” she corrected, and smiled.

“Whatever, my point is that I’m talking to you as your boyfriend.”

She smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

His stern expression softened. “Me, too.” But then he frowned again. “Now tell me your symptoms.”

She could maybe tell him some of it. “Do I have your promise you won’t say anything?” She touched his mouth. It was as soft to her fingers as it had been on her lips.

“Fine. I promise,” he cratered.

“My hearing, vampire hearing, and scent, it goes in and out. It’s crazy. They come and go.”

His expression hardened, and his brown eyes, which had looked all sexy seconds ago, now looked fretful.

“You’re beginning to look more like a doctor,” she accused.

He groaned. “Let me take you now to see Dr. Whitman, Della. Please. Have him check you out, do some blood work. I’ll feel so much better.”

“No. Like I said, in a few days when Holiday is home and everything is okay with the baby, I’ll go, but not now.”

“But…”

“Stop making this into something more than it is.” She was fine, she told herself. Vampires seldom got sick. And yet some that do get sick, die.

The voice echoed inside her head, and damn if it didn’t sound a lot like Chan.

But right then Della heard other voices. Voices and laughter. These came from outside the car. Steve lifted his head and looked out the window.

Through a few strands of hair, she stared at Steve, hoping, praying, she was wrong. He finally glanced back at her.

She bit down on her lip before asking. “Please tell me someone hasn’t seen us making out like a couple of horny teenagers in the front seat of a car.”

He brushed her hair from her face. “Does it matter anymore?”

“How many?” she asked.

“How many what?”

“How many am I going to have to kill?”

A smile lit up his eyes, and he glanced back to the right and then to the left. “Six. No seven. Wait. Eight. That’s a lot of people to kill.” His grin widened.

She felt her face grow hot, wondering how long everyone had been watching. “I guess I should get off your lap.”

He arched his eyebrows in a teasing manner. “I don’t know. I kind of like it.”

She started to pull one leg from behind him. “If my ass hits the horn again, I’m going to die of embarrassment right here and now.”

His smiled faded and she knew exactly where his thoughts had gone. “No one’s dying. “

She had started to focus on getting her leg free when he touched her face and tilted her chin up to meet his face again. “Two days, Della. If you don’t come in to see Dr. Whitman, I’m bringing him to you.”

“I’m sorry, but it was funny.” Miranda laughed and pulled out three Diet Cokes from the fridge. “And we didn’t know it was you. All we saw were two people making out in the driver’s seat.” She sat the drinks on the table. “And we didn’t recognize the car.”

“It’s not funny!” Della growled.

Miranda, Kylie, Perry, and five other students had all been standing out by the entrance watching her and Steve. Della had no idea how she could have not seen them when Steve pulled up, but then again, all her attention had been on the driver of the car.

All her attention had been on Steve’s touch; on how it felt to be kissed by him. On how it felt to be understood by him. Was that what made him so special? He accepted her the way she was. He liked her the way she was.

“Hey … all you did was kiss.” Kylie tried to assure her, but even the chameleon was smiling on the inside, Della could see it in her eyes.

“I don’t know,” Miranda said. “His hand was in her shirt and we couldn’t tell where her hands were.”

Della shot the witch a cold glare. “Drop it before I drop you!”

“Right, let’s change the subject,” Kylie said. “We’re happy. Holiday and Hannah are going to be fine. Thanks to you, by the way. You and Steve have made up.”

“Thanks to me,” Miranda said. “I told you to kiss Chase. And that’s what fixed this.”

“Kissing Chase was a mistake.” Della’s mind went to him knowing Chan again, and she needed to call Kevin to see what else he knew about the panty perv, but she didn’t want to think about him right now. Kylie was right. Things were too good to worry. And if that meant ignoring that she now had a little headache, so be it.

“All in all,” Kylie said, and popped the top on her soda, “it’s been a hell of a good day.”

And I saved Billy, Della thought, and opened her own drink.

When Della looked up, Miranda stared, eyes tight, frown tighter. “What?”

The witch set her soda down. “You’re happy, but…”

“But what?” Della asked.

“Your aura is still dark. Even darker than before.”

“Well, then your aura detector is broke,” Della said.

Miranda shook her head. “Tomorrow, you’re going bird watching. I don’t care if I have to drag the birds to you.”

By eight that night, Della sat alone at the kitchen table—feeling lonely. And feeling like shit. Her headache had increased.. The throb came not only at her temples, but at the base of her neck. Maybe she should have let Steve drive her back to Dr. Whitman’s office after all. Or perhaps she should have asked Kylie to do her magic before leaving.

Yup, Della’s two best friends had abandoned her over an hour ago to be with their boyfriends. She couldn’t be pissed. If Steve was here, she’d be with him.

Staring down at her phone, she willed it to ring. She’d called Kevin back twice, hoping they could finish their conversation about Chase, but his phone went to voicemail and he hadn’t returned her calls. The question weighing on her mind grew heavier. Why hadn’t Chase told her he knew Chan? What could that mean?

The cabin walls seemed to moan. Was it her imagination, or had the room’s temperature dropped a few degrees? She folded her arms around herself and looked around. Was Chan here? She shouldn’t be afraid of him if he was. But the tickle of unease in the pit of her stomach didn’t go away. What did her cousin want with her? Was it about Chase?

She recalled Chase telling her he’d been looking for someone. Had he been lying?

All at once, the skin at the base of her neck prickled. She turned her head, half expecting to see someone standing there, staring at her.

The room was empty. Or at least empty of anyone she could see.

“Is it you, Chan?” she whispered.

Only silence answered her. Picking up her phone, she considered calling Steve, but she’d called earlier and he said he had patients and he’d call her as soon as he had a few minutes. Thoughts of Jessie being with him did a lap around her already antsy mood. Trusting Steve was one thing, trusting Jessie was another. Her head throbbed harder.

When another chill ran down her spine, she stood up and decided to go take a warm shower. She moved to the bathroom, started the water, and stripped off her clothes. The sound of the shower seemed to echo, and for some reason she remembered the falls. She looked at the shower curtain. Steam billowed out. She set a towel on the counter. Rubbing her temple, she glanced up in the mirror and saw her naked reflection. Then she saw him.

“Shit! Get out of here, Chan!” Being scared of her dead cousin she maybe could have handled; being scared and naked was too much. She grabbed the towel and swung around to face him. She expected him to be gone, but he wasn’t. He stood there in puff of steam.

“Look behind you,” he said.

“Get out of here,” she repeated, still adjusting her towel and fighting the pain.

“Look behind you,” he said again, and now he was the one who looked afraid.

She glanced over her shoulder, breath held, not knowing what she would see. Nothing stood behind her, just her reflection, and the reflection of her dead cousin, staring at her with sad eyes.

She turned and faced him again, and slight movement sent her world spinning. She waited for it to stop. “Look at what?” she managed to ask, gripping the counter for fear she’d fall.

He raised his arm and pointed behind her. She glanced back again and again saw nothing. But then, in the midst of the fog, Chan’s image faded.

She slowly turned her head to the front again. He was gone.

Look behind you. His words echoed in her head. Do it!

Shaking on the inside, she didn’t know which was worse. Seeing him, or hearing him in her head.

Still, she did as he requested and looked over her shoulder again. “What am I supposed to see?” she asked, her words seeming to be sucked up by the steam. The pain in her head seemed to spread to her shoulders.

“What am I supposed to see?” she said again, her patience thin.

Only a deadly silence answered. She couldn’t hear the water running anymore. She couldn’t hear herself breathe.

She blinked and was just about to turn around when an arrow was drawn in the steamed-up mirror. Pointing to her reflection. She followed the arrow. And she saw it.

“Shit!” She dropped the towel. All dread of ghosts, dread of being naked in front of ghosts, vanished. A different kind of fear built in her chest.

Her heart raced and simultaneously the pain in her head and shoulders pounded harder. Standing naked in the foggy bathroom, she heard Kevin’s words echo in her head. They said he got sicker and then he got a weird rash on his back and then he died. Just died.

Della stared at the splotchy red markings starting at the back of her neck and running down her spine. They kind of looked like feathers.

Reality set in. She had the same thing Chan had. She had the same thing that killed him.

The bathroom door opened. She expected Kylie or Miranda.

She reached to get her towel. Using all her energy, she stood, and her head swam, black dots appeared in her vision, but she focused on the door. Her breath caught when she realized she’d been wrong. It wasn’t Kylie or Miranda.

“What the hell are you doing here?”