Eternal (16 page)

*   *   *

They made it back at 7:59. One minute before curfew. Burnett sat outside on the office porch, his phone in his hand, when they walked up. Della hadn't reached the office yet when it hit her. The whole Steve leaving issue.

“I was just about to call you,” Burnett said, and stood up to open the cabin door. Chase and Della followed him into Holiday's office.

“Anything?” he asked as he moved toward the desk.

Della suddenly wished she'd told Chase not to mention the near disaster of almost running into her dad. Knowing Burnett, the least little thing would put him back into protective mode where she was concerned.

“The Owen family wasn't home,” Chase said.

Della held her breath, hoping and praying he didn't bring it up, and ready to intervene with some other subject if he did.

“We did drop in on the Brian family,” Della added.

“Did you get anything there?” Burnett leaned against Holiday's desk.

“Yeah. Both the parents are white.” Della filled Burnett in about knocking on their door trying to sell magazines.

“I knew that,” Burnett added. “Right after you left, the DMV finally sent me over copies of their driver's licenses. I also got both Mr. and Mrs. Owen's. White as well.”

Della nodded. “But as you said…”

“It could just mean they aren't her biological parents,” Burnett finished her sentence for her.

“I still believe it's one of them,” Della said. “Actually, I think she's Natasha Owen.” The moment she said it, she felt certain. “If we'd had time, we would have gone back by their house.” She'd almost called Burnett and asked for an extended curfew, but being her first night to work the case, she knew he'd balk. “But if we left now—”

“No, it's late. You need rest. You can go tomorrow evening.” Burnett ran a hand through his hair and looked over at the door. Della could hear someone coming up the office steps outside. Then she heard a baby's coo.

“Why do you think her name is Owen?” Burnett asked, cutting his eyes to the door, obviously waiting for his wife and child to walk in.

Della looked at Chase. She hadn't asked him earlier. Probably because she hadn't wanted to think about it. “I felt something at her house. A sadness. I think the ghost was there. I didn't feel that at the Brians' house.”

Chase's brow tightened.

“Did you feel it, too?” she asked him.

“Yeah,” he said. “But I was hoping I imagined it.”

Me, too,
Della thought, but didn't say it.

“Fine,” Burnett said. “You can go back tomorrow. Maybe you'll find something out.”

“Not so fast,” Holiday said, standing in the door with a baby on her hip. “I'm a little worried about this.”

Hannah Rose started flapping her hands at the sight of her father. Burnett reached for her, pulling the little bundle close to his chest. “I've checked with the local authorities on both the Brian family and the Owens. Neither have any criminal history. I don't think they pose any danger.”

Holiday frowned. “It's not them I'm worried about.” The red-haired fae's gaze went from Della to Chase.

“Then who?” Della asked, almost certain the woman was going to say something about Chase. Chase's shoulders tightened as if he had the same thought.

“The ghost,” Holiday said.

“Why would the ghost hurt us?” Della asked. “All she wants is for us to find Natasha.”

“I agree,” Chase said.

“Maybe.” Holiday reached for a strand of hair and twirled it. “But she managed to bring both of you into a vision, and if she did what Burnett told me, with those names on the back of the picture, then she's pretty powerful. A ghost with that kind of power, and that desperate, can be dangerous. Even if their intentions aren't evil. Spirits have been known to cause mud slides, tornados. The last twenty-car pileup that happened in L.A. was because of a spirit.”

Della thought of the near accident on the freeway. That wasn't the ghost, was it? Why would she attempt to hurt them if they were trying to help her?

“I'm not going to stop looking for Natasha,” Della insisted, and shot Chase a glance hoping to communicate to him not to mention the near accident. If Holiday or Burnett thought the ghost was dangerous, they'd be even more out to put a stop to this.

Chase's eyes widened as if he recalled the accident. Della shook her head so slightly.

Holiday spoke up again. “I'm not suggesting you stop. Just make her give you a little more information before she sends you off on more wild-goose chases.”

Della appreciated Holiday's concern but … “You said ghosts do what they want, when they want. It's not like I can text her to send me some info.”

“But if you stop following her leads, she'll be forced to give you something else. The more she gives you, the more able you'll be to figure this out.”

“I don't want to stop,” Della said, and the ghost didn't want her to stop, either. She felt it, didn't like feeling it, but she did. “Natasha and Liam are going to die if we don't find them. And fast.”

Della saw it in Holiday's eyes again. She didn't think they were alive. “Don't say it,” Della said, tilting up her chin in defiance.

“Don't say what?” Chase asked.

Della glanced at him. “I told you, she thinks they're already dead.”

“They're not dead,” Chase said, with the same conviction as Della.

Find Natasha!

The voice came so loud in her head, Della flinched. When she looked at Chase, he had his eyes closed. He'd heard it, too.

“I know it's hard to accept, but we don't know that they're alive,” Holiday said.

Instantly, the temperature in the room dropped so fast that steam billowed out of everyone's lips as they breathed. A glass vase of flowers sitting on the edge of Holiday's desk burst. The glass fell to one side, the water another. The water turned to beads of ice like that fancy dot-like ice cream, and all those tiny ice beads rolled around the desk until they formed letters.

A

L

I

V

E

Right after the E formed, the door to Holiday's office slammed shut with such a loud crack it sent an echo through the frosty air. All the little balls of ice ran off the desk and bounced around the floor, making tapping sounds until they melted.

Della held her next breath, too scared to breathe. She saw the same raw panic on Chase's face. Burnett clutched his daughter closer.

Holiday simply lifted her right brow. “So, okay,” she said, sounding completely calm. “Maybe they're alive.”

*   *   *

Thirty minutes later, Della and Chase were dismissed after more words of caution, but a commitment from both Holiday and Burnett, and even a coo of approval from Hannah, to move forward on the investigation.

Burnett had agreed they could go tomorrow afternoon to see if the Owen family might be home. They were also going to hang around the neighborhood where Liam lived to see if they could get anything there.

Burnett was going to go back and interview the men arrested with the Craig Anthony case and see if he could “persuade” them to give up any info on the last missing vampires. By the look of worry in the stern vampire's eyes, Della wasn't sure she wanted to know what type of persuasion he'd use.

As they walked out onto the porch, Chase stayed close to her side. Under the almost full moon, she moved off the cabin's porch and turned toward the trail back to her cabin.

“Walk me to the car,” he said under his breath.

“Why?” An image of Steve from earlier with so much pain in his eyes filled Della's head and heart, and the guilt from earlier tap-danced its way into her conscience.

Frowning, Chase cut his eyes back to the cabin, as if saying he wanted to make sure no one was listening.

Oh, hell, she'd walk him to the car. She'd spent the day with him, she could handle a few more minutes. Besides, a little guilty voice whispered, Steve's leaving.

When they passed through the gate into the parking lot, Chase's shoulder brushed against hers and she did a quick sidestep. He looked at her and frowned, and then spoke. “That was scary.”

“Don't worry, I'll protect you,” she said with sass.

He glared at her. “Do you always have to be a smartass?”

“Only with special people,” she said.

“So, you admit I'm special.” He smiled. But the smiled vanished quickly. He ran a finger under her eye. “You do look tired.”

She moved his finger away. “I'm fine.” But in truth, he was right. She was tired. Borderline exhausted. And she hadn't even started to digest everything that had happened today.

He nodded. “Do you think it was the ghost who almost caused the accident on the highway?”

A tickle of fear stirred in her gut thinking the ghost had that much control. “I don't see why she would do it.”

“I know, but it was weird. I don't know if you saw it, but all the cars started going a little crazy right before it happened. And for a second there, it almost felt like the car was driving itself.”

“You think she possessed your car? Possessed a bunch of cars on the freeway?” Della asked, not wanting to believe it. Nope. Didn't want to!

“After what she did in there, I think it's possible. Besides, Holiday said—”

“No.” Della shook her head. “She did the freaky ice thing in there to prove to a point. She didn't need to prove anything on the highway.”

He exhaled as if he only halfway believed her. To be honest, she only halfway believed herself.

“All I know is I don't like it.” Chase lowered his voice as if afraid the ghost might be listening. “And I want you to tell her to stop this crap. Let her know we'll do our best to find Natasha and Liam, but stop messing with my car and my head.”

“Wait,” Della said. “Let me see if I understand … you want
me
to tell her this?” Sarcasm spilled out with her words.

“Yeah,” he said as if he didn't understand her issue.

“Why don't you tell her?” Della slipped a hand to her hip.

He made a face. “She's your ghost.”

“My ghost? Why the hell is she
my
ghost?”

“Because she's closer to you.”

“Says who?”

He opened his mouth and nothing came out right away. Then words spurted out of his lips. “Because … Because she…” His eyes widened as if he'd figured something out. “Because she gave you the picture of Natasha. And Natasha has some connection to your family.”

His reasoning made sense, perfect sense, but Della didn't want to see it that way. Refused to see it that way. She didn't want to be alone in this with some dead person. Sharing it with
him
wasn't the ideal situation, but she hadn't come up with this plan.

“That doesn't make her mine,” Della insisted. “She talks to both of us. We've got joint custody here, buddy. You should have thought about this before you bonded with me. And don't you try to skip out of your responsibility.”

“It's a ghost,” he said. “Not a baby.”

“Same thing!” she muttered and turned to walk away.

“There's a big difference.” His words still reached her ears. “Bye,” he said when she didn't stop walking. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” she offered, but didn't look back.

She started down the dark trail. An achiness swelled in her chest. Each step toward her cabin hurt just a bit more. Hurt as if she was walking away from something that felt like home, instead of going to it. The sensation of being alone consumed her.

Or maybe not so alone.

A strange, repetitive whooshing noise came behind her. A kind of scary, repetitive whooshing noise. Her heart did a small tumble.

Did ghosts whoosh? And smell like … fowl?

 

Chapter Eighteen

Refusing to give in to the urge to run like hell, Della swung around, her canines already out and her eyes feeling tight as if glowing.

The damn huge bird cocked its head and looked at her. “It's just me.” Perry's voice came out of the bird's beak as sparkly bubbles started popping off, signaling that the shape-shifter was changing form.

“You realize I could have ripped your head off,” she seethed, watching the bird fade and Perry appear.

“Because I scared you, or because you're mad at me?” he asked, his words a little slurred due to his beak being in the process of turning into lips. Della looked away—it was too creepy to watch.

Staring at the woods, it took only the tiniest fraction of a second to remember why she would be mad. Perry was leaving. And forget the fact that she would miss the twerp. One of her best friends was going to be devastated.

Della didn't like people devastating someone she cared about. Even when the person doing the disappointing was also a friend.

She swung back around. “Definitely because I'm mad. And I wasn't scared!” Her heart thumped to the tune of a lie, but shape-shifters couldn't hear that, so her little white fib didn't count. “Do you know what your leaving is going to do to Miranda?”

He frowned and kicked at the dirt. “It's going to hurt me, too. But what am I supposed to do? Turn it down? It's my one chance to maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Della asked.

“Nothing,” he said.

“Don't ‘nothing' me! What were you going to say?”

He kicked at another rock on the ground. “To change things.”

“Change what?”

“Me,” he said.

Della shook her head. “There's nothing wrong with you.”

“Right,” he said as if he thought she was making shit up. Couldn't he see she was too tired to make shit up right now?

“What's wrong with you?” she asked, suddenly realizing she didn't understand why Perry was going to the fancy school. She got why Steve would go. They were going to give him a crash course in supernatural medicine. But Perry wasn't into medicine.