“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.

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“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?




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