Eternal (7 page)

Miranda gently removed Della's hold on her arm. “Just give it up, vamp. Because no way, no how, are you going alone. Kylie and I are coming.” She even did that attitude shake of her head that reminded Della of one of those head-bobbing dog figurines some people put in their cars.

Frustration built in the pit of Della's stomach. “Put your broom down, witch!” she bit out. “You can't come. Besides, it's not a funeral,” Della said, her tone getting tighter. If she showed up to meet Burnett with Miranda and Kylie in tow, Burnett would have a shit fit. And Della avoided Burnett's shit fits at all costs.

Seeing the determination and love in Miranda's eyes, Della held out her hand, seeking patience from both the witch and herself.

“Look, Burnett didn't even want me to come. They're burying Chan in the fake grave where he was supposed to have been buried earlier. So, it's a little dangerous, unearthing a casket, putting a body in it, and doing it without getting caught. Supposedly, breaking into graves can get you five to ten years in prison. And orange is not your color.”

“I look just as good in orange as you do,” the witch sassed back while twisting a strand of her multicolored hair. Then she frowned, and even got teary-eyed again. “Please. I still don't like you going alone. It hurts me right here.” She put a hand over her chest.

Della's own heart took a blow at her words. “Burnett's going to be there,” she assured her.

Miranda made a face, which included one of her signature eye rolls. “Like he'd give you a hug if you needed one.”

Della didn't think Burnett would hug her, but she didn't doubt he'd offer his sympathy. And from one vamp to another, that was more than enough.

“I'll be fine.” And she would, Della told herself. Burying Chan beneath his tombstone was the right thing. Even if his dying wasn't. “I have to go.” She took a step toward the door.

“Wait,” Miranda said. “One hug to hold you over.”

The word “no” danced on Della's tongue, but stopping Miranda from hugging was like stopping a male dog from peeing on a fire hydrant. Impossible.

Della leaned in and pulled back extra quick, studying the witch and still seeing worry in her expression. “Later, we'll have a Diet Coke session and share our problems. But before then, you need to find whoever you promised that you wouldn't tell on and rescind that promise.”

Miranda's bottom lip came out a bit. “I can't.”

Della frowned. “Fine, then I won't tell you guys what's going on with me. And it's huge.”

“That's not fair,” Miranda said.

“Yeah, it sucks having friends who expect you to spill your guts, but that's what we do. So, get your guts prepared to fall out. Later.” She shot out of Miranda's bedroom, and out of the cabin, hurrying to meet Burnett—hoping that burying Chan would at least bring some closure to this issue and free her up to work on the others.

Natasha and Liam were first on the issue list.

Then the whole Steve and Chase issue. Or maybe trying again to find her uncle. With all the issues Della had, she had choices.

*   *   *

The ghostlike clouds had passed, and the half moon, accompanied by the stars, spit out just enough light to turn the sky a dark navy. Burnett, dressed in black, waited by the front gate of Shadow Falls. His gaze fell over her as if trying to read her mood. Or maybe her ability not to emotionally crumble. Little did he know, that wall had come down months ago.

At times, she wasn't sure what she'd used to put herself back together, but she had a feeling it had everything to do with Shadow Falls. The people here. The friendships. Not necessarily the hugs—though she loved Miranda for it, she could do without those. But just knowing others cared had her pulling herself back together after each of life's disappointments.

She cared about them all. Even the stoic camp leader.

Face it, completely cratering meant letting people down. If her Asian father had instilled anything in her, it was loyalty. Which probably explained why even when her father seemed to have given up on her, she hadn't given up on him.

“Ready?” Burnett asked.

She nodded.

He started to run, his boots crashing against the dirt three or four times before he went straight into flight. Della didn't know if she could do that, but almost sensing it was a challenge, she gave it a shot. Her own boots hit the ground seven times before she sensed the strength. Forcing every muscle she had into action, she felt herself being lifted into the air. A sense of accomplishment whispered over her, and for one second, it dulled the pain of what she was about to face.

Burnett glanced back at her. The look in his eyes almost reminded her of the way her father looked at her when she'd made a good move at chess.

Warmth filled Della's chest as she sent Burnett a slight nod.

Yup, Della thought. The thing that kept her together had everything to do with the people she'd found at Shadow Falls. If she crumbled, they'd take it personally. And she wasn't about to let them take the blame for what was happening to her.

It took them twenty minutes, flying at speeds Della could only guess, before she spotted the graveyard. As soon as their destination came into view, Burnett slowed down to what might have been considered normal vampire speed.

As they circled the property, he started downward in the midst of some trees.

Della's feet weren't steady on the ground when she caught the scent.

She shot around and looked at Burnett. He had his nose up, too. Apparently he'd gotten the same scent.

“Someone you know?” she asked, hoping the agents bringing Chan's body were weres.

Burnett's eyes, already a bright green, told her the answer first.

Della didn't have time to think before three figures came bolting out of the trees, charging right at them.

 

Chapter Eight

“Stop!” Burnett's order rang out.

Damn it! Did he mean that for her, too? Prepared to fight, Della had to cut her nails into her palms to heed his order. Halting at Burnett's side, every muscle in her body screamed
danger
.

Drawing in a sharp breath of air that even tasted like menace, she stared at the foreheads of the three potential attackers to read their patterns. All supernaturals had patterns that identified their species, and these ones confirmed what her nose had picked up.

Weres.

She also noted the uniforms—security. What a joke.

“We don't mean any harm,” Burnett announced. He pulled his dark shirt back to show his FRU badge hooked onto his belt.

Della had to give the man credit for going by the book. Not that she knew all the FRU rules, but she planned on learning them soon.

Her focus returned to Burnett, standing tall, his badge still on display. It came off so official-like, awe and admiration swept through her. Someday, she wanted one of those badges.

“We carry our own badges, too, you dirty vamp!” the were with shaggy red hair said. He pushed his chest out, which had a badge with some Celtic-looking cross in green and blue that was pinned to his dirty cotton shirt.

“I'll bet mine carries more weight,” Burnett seethed, his eyes now gold in color.

The were's eyes grew a bright orange, but this time, he took a second to actually look at Burnett's badge.

The were in the middle, slightly bigger than the other two, spoke up next. “I've heard a lot of fake FRU badges have found their way into gangs.”

“This one isn't fake,” Burnett added, his tone getting deeper and more dangerous.

Della felt her gut tighten, prepared to face any threat they chose to throw at them. But they weren't really that big of a threat. There were only three of them. She and Burnett could take them with their hands tied behind their backs. Hell, with her new powers, she could probably take all three herself.

“You expect us to believe that's real?” mouthed off the redheaded were. “You show up in the middle of the night, at our graveyard, with your girl toy there and expect us to believe you're on official business?”

The girl toy comment just about did her in. Della growled, her vision brightening, telling her that her eyes had as well, and her canines came out to play.

“She's not a toy.” Burnett's eyes now glowed a lime green, but his gaze shot back to the man standing in the middle as if he sensed he was the leader of the pack. “Show me your registration papers and tell your mouthy friend to back down or you all will be spending a night in FRU custody.”

“Do as he says.” The head of the pack pulled out his wallet. Della saw the redhead pull something out of his pocket. She spotted the tiny little problem immediately. It wasn't a wallet. It was a blade.

With a speed she didn't know possible, she bolted forward. Before he could say “uncle,” or even
think
to say “uncle,” she caught the were by his wrist, twisting his arm behind his back. In another fraction of a second, she'd knocked him down to his knees. Burnett suddenly appeared at her side, but he simply watched. Meaning he had faith in her. Her chest filled with the similar pride she'd felt earlier during flight. Making Burnett proud was almost like making her dad proud.

She snatched the knife from the were's hand, then pushed him facedown on the grass and put her knee in his back to keep him there. Amazingly, her breath still came evenly, her pulse didn't race. She hadn't even had to exert herself to do it.

“Do yourself a favor and stay down,” Della said to the no-good dog beneath her. “Or don't. A good fight would suit me just fine.”

The were raised his head back. Della saw the bright orange color of his eyes reflected on the ground. “I had to get my knife out to get to my card,” he growled.

“Yeah, and Girl Toy had to take it away from you,” Della snapped back.

Della could swear she heard Burnett chuckle.

“Just shut up, Evert,” the lead were said. “I'm sorry for his behavior. He's new and obviously too hotheaded for this job.” He held out an ID card, basically a driver's license but with a marking that meant he was registered, toward Burnett.

“I didn't know you were real FRU,” the guy under Della's hold growled out.

The other were pulled out his wallet and produced his own card, too.

Burnett looked at the cards, then handed them back. He inched a step closer to Della and knelt down beside the guy facedown on the ground. “I'm going to try to talk my agent-in-training into releasing you, but you'll want to get up real slow. Then, you'll want to apologize, and I'll leave it up to her whether or not she thinks we should take you in.”

Della moved off the lowlife's back. He stood up, keeping his still-orange glowing eyes on her the whole time. “Sorry,” he muttered, but his tone made it clear he considered the apology below him. She wondered if it was because she was a vamp, or if it was because she was a girl. A girl toy. Guess he'd think twice before calling someone else that.

Burnett shook his head. “Surely you can do better than that.”

He glanced at Burnett and then back to Della. “I'm sorry.” Fury radiated from his tone.

For some reason, Della's mind went to the last guy who'd forced an apology out of someone who'd disrespected her. Chase. She pushed that thought away and the slight sense of longing it brought on.

Burnett looked at her. “Do you think we should take him in and let him spend a night regretting his behavior?”

Della glanced up at Burnett. He was really going to leave it up to her? She looked down at the pathetic excuse for a knife the were had pulled out of his pocket. “Nah, but I think he needs to know if he's going to pull a knife on a vampire, it should be more than a pocket knife.” She handed the two-inch blade to Burnett.

Burnett nodded at the were. “Leave before I change my mind.”

The redhead ran away, his limber gait reminiscent of all weres. Suddenly, silence fell like a soft rain, and that silence seemed to echo inside Della. Toeing her shoe into the green manicured lawn, she watched the were fade into nothing but a speck on the landscape.

For the first time, she became aware of her surroundings. Silver moonlight spilled over the flat terrain. Tombstones rose from the ground like arms of the dead reaching for the sky, needing escape from the cold earth.

Every few feet, an aging statuary of a saint or an angel stood above the stones, as if guarding the graves. But were they protecting the dead, or keeping them entombed?

The sad and haunted environment brought it all back—the reason she was here. To bury Chan. But the ghostlike chill and the thought of being underground also brought to mind Natasha and Liam.

Heavy grief accompanied with a sharp sense of urgency filled her lungs. Della swallowed a shaky breath and wondered how and when Chan's body would arrive.

A cold tingle ran down Della's spine. Was it a ghost? Feeling dazed, she forced herself to look back at the live people standing to her right. Burnett took a step forward toward the pack leader.

The were, a good three inches shorter than Burnett, didn't show fear, nor did his posture provoke aggressiveness. “Not to defend my ex-employee,” the were said, “but I must say, you showing up at a graveyard that is managed by weres is rather strange.”

Burnett stood a little straighter. Not to the point of defensiveness, but just enough to show he didn't appreciate the man's questions. “The FRU tried to contact the owner, Mr. Henderson, but was told by the receptionist he was out of the country.”

“And I was left in charge,” the were stated. “Why did you not contact me?” His words danced on the line of disrespect, but his tone held tight to caution, as did his posture.

“If you will look at your business phone, you'll see the FRU has left three messages. And I personally left one this afternoon.”

The were brought his shoulders up a bit. “So you took it upon yourself to bypass legal procedures to obviously do something morally unethical. Is this the way the FRU regularly operates?”