Deep down she knew drinking blood didn’t make her evil; killing to get that blood made one immoral and wicked. Which she would never have to consider doing, thanks to the camp’s reserves of donor blood. As Kylie had once told her, people donate blood to help save lives, what’s the difference in donating blood to keep a vampire healthy?
Yup, leave it to Kylie’s words of wisdom, even months after she’d said them, to help Della through a rough patch.
With Holiday hovering over her, Della even ate the soup. It tasted like crap, but there was something nostalgic about watching the star-shaped pasta swim circles in the chicken broth. Her mom had always served her chicken-and-stars when she was sick.
But Della wasn’t sick. Or was she?
“I’m glad to see you eating,” Holiday said, and she paused as if she needed to say something. The fae had a gift of reading other’s emotions, but she couldn’t seem to hide her own worth a flip.
“What is it?” Della asked.
“I had to call your mom about your little accident.”
“Oh, frack! Why?”
“Because they are still your parents,” the camp leader said. “I didn’t tell her you were unconscious, I just said you’d fallen and bumped your head. I assured her you were okay.”
“And?” Della asked, worried her mom said she didn’t care. In spite of what Holiday said about her mom calling once a week, Della could still remember how quiet and how disappointed her mom had seemed to be with Della on the drive up here on Sunday.
“She’s worried. She asked for you to call her.”
Della exhaled. “I needed to talk to her anyway.”
“About what?”
“Kylie asked Miranda and me to go to her house this weekend.”
Holiday smiled. “That sounds like fun. But we’ll also have to clear it with Burnett.”
“Why?” Della asked.
“If he thinks the attack on you was personal, he might worry about you leaving.”
“Why would he worry about me? I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m with Kylie, the protector. What more do I need?”
Holiday shrugged. “I agree, but we’ll still have to check with Burnett. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him so scared as when he carried you out of the woods.”
Della rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. And I’ll be fine at Kylie’s.”
“I know you think you’re okay. But this morning you were unconscious. And the doctor called me a while ago wanting to confirm you are on your cycle. You apparently had a little raised temperature. You are on your period, aren’t you?”
“Geez, what’s with the entire camp wanting to know about my menstrual cycle? Can’t some things just be private?”
“This isn’t about invading your privacy, it’s about looking after your health.”
“Fine,” Della sighed. “Yes, I’m on my period—practically.”
“Practically?” Holiday questioned.
“It should be here anytime. Like clockwork. Aunt Flo never lets me down.” No way was Della going to tell Holiday about possibly having a flu. She’d never agree to let Della go to Kylie’s then.
Holiday left shortly after that, but not without leaving orders. Della was to call her mom, then go to bed early. She wasn’t allowed to go out for a run until she got some sleep. How Holiday knew about Della’s nightly runs was a mystery. Then again, Holiday probably knew a hell of a lot more than she let on.
Sitting in the quiet room, Della reached for her phone on the bedside table. Her stomach hurt at the thought of talking to her mom. And how she was going to convince her to say yes to going to Kylie’s.
She was still staring down at the cell and coming up short with convincing methods when her cell rang. Please be Chan? She looked at her phone. No. Ready or not, she had to talk to her mom.
Della came up with one idea: Channel the old Della, the one who wasn’t insecure in her mother’s love. The one who used to know exactly how to persuade her mom to give in. The one who hadn’t been vampire.
“Hey, Mom!” Della grimaced at the false cheeriness in her tone.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Holiday said you took a blow to the head.”
“It was nothing. Holiday’s pregnant, and she’s a worrywart these days. Seriously, I can’t even find where I was hit.” She reached up and flinched when she found the large lump, making it a whopper of a lie.
“You do sound good,” her mom said, and Della congratulated herself on pretending everything was okay. Maybe her mom would pretend then, too. Wasn’t a pretend relationship better than what they had lately?
“I am good.” Della bit down on her lip, debating if she should bring it up. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “Sorry about … what happened.”
“You were getting into your dad’s liquor, weren’t you?”
Frigging hell. Why had she said anything? Should she just say yes, admit to something she wasn’t guilty of doing? She opened her mouth to say yes, but instead said, “I didn’t touch his precious brandy. I wouldn’t do that. I was … I was thinking about Chan and wanted to see a picture of him. I remembered Dad kept his photo albums in there.”
Silence filled the line. Oh, crap! She’d really flubbed things up now. Her mom would probably go look at the album and see the missing picture.
“Why … why didn’t you say that? Why didn’t you tell your dad that’s what you were doing?”
“Dad just started accusing me. He’s … he’s so disappointed in me, I just … It hurt.” Still hurt.
“You should have spoken up,” her mom said.
“I’ll try to remember that.” Della realized it sounded like the conversation was winding down, and she still needed two things. “Oh, Mom. I … I was wondering if you would mind if I went to see a friend next weekend? Kylie, my roommate, you’ve met her before, she’s invited me and Miranda, my other roommate, to her house.”
“To do what?” her mom asked, suspicious.
“To hang out. You know, like I used to do with Chelsea. To go over some homework.” Her mom used to be a sucker for anything involving group study. Every date with her ex-boyfriend, Della used to bring her schoolbooks, and she’d actually open them at least once, so she didn’t have to lie when she said they’d spent “some” time with their nose in a book.