And then his phone rang.

His growl, deep and low, came against her bare shoulder. He raised his head. His eyes were bright, the blue irises hot with desire. "I hate ... hate modern technology."

She grinned.

He rolled over to his back and reached into his pocket for his phone. As he studied the little screen, a frown chased away the passion from his expression.

"It's Burnett." He closed his eyes, then opened them. "I should ... take it." He looked at her with an apology in his eyes.

"I know," she said, and then, suddenly aware of her lack of clothes, she crossed her arms.

His gaze lowered briefly to her covered chest. He reached for her bra and shirt beside him and handed them to her.

She clutched them to her front to cover herself. Their gazes met again. There was a sense of rightness at stopping things before they went any further. And while she accepted that letting it go this far had been risky, she knew she'd savor the memory.

"I don't regret it," she said.

"Good." He looked so darn sexy without a shirt, but wearing a kiss-me grin. "Because I don't, either."

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?" He frowned at the ringing phone.

"For going into the cemetery even when ... you hate spirits." For not hating me because I'm vampire.

A seriousness filled his eyes. "I'd go to hell to keep you safe, Kylie Galen."

She believed him, too.

He answered Burnett's call.

* * *

Kylie spent the rest of the night mostly tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The call from Burnett had just been to check if Lucas had found anything suspicious when he'd looked around after the alarm had gone off. Then Lucas and Kylie jumped over the gate holding on to each other so it would appear only one person had entered. How he'd figured it out, Kylie didn't know and hadn't asked. However, the idea that Lucas had tied, and that Perry might also have to lie for her, didn't sit well with her.

Fretting, she stared at the ceiling while mentally juggling everything she'd learned. She was a chameleon. A rare type of supernatural. But at the moment she was a vampire. And that explained why, in spite of how hard she'd tried to dreamscape to Lucas, she'd failed. Vampires couldn't dreamscape. Rolling over again, she thought about everyone seeing her new pattern.

Her great-aunt's words flowed through her head. The few who did not hide were viewed as outcasts, freaks, and not belonging to any one kind.

She could already imagine the campers whispering behind her back again. Look at Kylie. You'll never guess what she is now.

Not that whispering was going to do them any good. Her sensitive hearing was in tip-top shape. She'd not only heard Miranda and Della each time they'd rolled over in their beds, but she heard some baby birds crying for their mama to hurry up and chew up the worms and regurgitate them back into their mouths. Regurgitating worms was not a pretty sound, either.

Her mind did another U-turn and she remembered her and Lucas's time together. She grabbed her extra pillow and hugged it. A smile worked its way to her lips. Not just because of how sinfully good things had been, but because ... because now she believed he cared for her. And accepted her. That was huge. It changed things. She just didn't know how yet.

Recalling his touches, she felt her face grow warm. Probably not really warm, considering her core body temperature was extra low, vampire low, but she'd bet her cheeks were red.

Her brain did another veering off the subject and landed on words her grandfather had said. You are one of us. We share the same blood.

Her need to get to know her grandfather, to learn everything about her heritage, sat heavy on her heart. But to leave Shadow Falls...?

That wasn't an option. Even with some of the campers not completely accepting her, she belonged here.

As the night continued, she tried to decide what, if anything, she was going to tell Holiday and Burnett, and even Della and Miranda and Derek ... She couldn't lie to them all. Could she?

A chameleon alone will not survive. His warning stirred in her already heavy chest.

Pulling the pillow tighter, she sat up. She wasn't alone. She had Holiday and Burnett, and everyone here in her circle. And she'd just have to play it by ear on what, if anything, she'd tell the people close to her.

The sound of her stomach rumbling with hunger filled the silent room. She got up and went into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she reached for the orange juice, but her hand stilled when she saw Della's blood.

Della would kill her, but ...

* * *

"Where's my blood?" Della's voice vibrated through the entire cabin.

Kylie cringed, stepped out of the shower, and debated between the red or the white towel. She chose the white, for purity. If Della killed her, she'd at least be wearing white.

"Did you spill it again?" Della bellowed, no doubt screaming at Miranda.

"I didn't do anything with your blood," came Miranda's offended reply. "I wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole."

Kylie tightened the towel around herself.

"Fess up, witch!" Della snapped.

"I told the truth," Miranda shot back. "Clean the stinky vamp wax out of your ears and listen to my heartbeat."

Okay, now their insults were getting to the ugly stage.

Hurrying, Kylie stepped out of the misty warm bathroom right into the middle of the warpath.

"My ears aren't dirty," Della said, snarling. "I'm not the one letting some shape-shifter suck on my earlobe."