Eternal (9 page)

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A few minutes later, Burnett came and sat beside her on the soft manicured grass. The cold had faded away. If he or she or the several someones had left, or just backed away, she didn't know. But she appreciated it.

Burnett dropped his palm on her shoulder. It wasn't warm, or tight, but the soft touch came with an emotional charge.

“You okay?” he asked.

Della had moved away from fear and back to grief. “I'm sure I will be sooner or later, but right now, I hurt like hell. He was … he was family.”

Burnett's palm tightened, making the touch almost as emotionally stimulating as a hug, but not quite.

“I know you're hurting. Family is…” He paused, and then started talking. “A little over a year ago, I would have shunned the idea of having a family. And look at me now.”

Della nodded, pushing her grief aside to think of little Hannah. “You three make a perfect family.”

“Three?” Burnett chuckled. “Hell, when I fell in love with Holiday, I fell in love with Shadow Falls and all of you. We're not blood, Della, but you are part of our family, and don't you ever forget that.”

Emotion tightened her lungs. And God help her, but she wanted to lean over and rest her head on his shoulder. Maybe even ask him to wrap his arms around her.

Perhaps she should have brought Miranda and Kylie with her after all. Hell, were hugs addicting? Was there a pill to help you get over needing them? An anti-hug pill?

 

Chapter Ten

“I'm going to go dismiss the other agents,” Burnett said.

Della nodded and blinked away the threatening tears.

When he walked away, she studied the picture again. The girl. Who was she? She turned the picture over and saw nothing on the back.

Footsteps moved her way; she looked up. It was the warlock FRU agent. He didn't look much older than her. While he wore his hair short, he had a few unruly curls that probably made him look younger. He stopped a few feet away from her. Not liking having to look up, she stood and slipped the picture in her back pocket.

“Hey.” He nodded.

She responded with a similar head bob.

“Uh, I was wondering if you would mind if I fixed the lawn so it wouldn't look … unearthed, just in case any other family comes, so there won't be questions.”

“That's fine,” she said.

He glanced back and waved a hand. Under the silver moonlight, and with the magic of one warlock, the uneven clumps of earth smoothed over. Perfect blades of grass grew to a manicured length, even a couple of yellow flowers popped up beside the tombstone. A breeze caught the flowers and they brushed against the marker with Chan's name.

“Thank you,” Della managed to say, realizing she hadn't thought about bringing flowers.

“You're welcome.” He looked a little shy, as if he wanted to ask her something. “Are you the same Della that helped arrest Craig Anthony?”

She nodded and remembered there had been a warlock agent there, but this guy was younger.

“So you know Miranda?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Della said, surprised.

“I grew up in the same neighborhood with her. She was friends with my … little sister. Can you tell her Shawn Hanson said hello? And that … that I heard what she did that day, saving you guys with that amazing spell, and I just think … I think it's cool that she's finally coming into her own. I always suspected she was more talented than people gave her credit for.”

“I'll tell her,” Della said, getting a whiff of his pheromones. So, Agent Hanson had a crush on Miranda, did he? Della could bet Miranda would like to hear this. Not that she'd be ditching Perry, but what girl didn't want to know some guy had a thing for you? Especially an older guy.

He nodded and walked away. Right then, she heard Burnett's unhappy voice ring out. She looked up and saw he'd been on the phone and was now shoving it in his pocket. She'd been so tuned in to the warlock she'd missed the conversation.

Burnett came over, his posture telling her he came with bad news.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

He motioned for her to follow him. They moved within the trees again. “Have you heard from Chase yet?” he asked, his voice still low.

“No, why?”

“I think he just broke into the FRU storage house.”

Della frowned. “Why would he do that?”

“To get into Craig Anthony's files that we confiscated.”

“How do you know it was him?” Della asked.

“The trespasser was described as young with dark hair, and he outran the best agents. Who does that sound like to you?”

Della couldn't explain why she was happy Chase had gotten away, but she was. “Did he take anything?”

“One stack of files that we'd set aside.” He inhaled and met her gaze. “The ones that contained two fresh turns named Natasha.”

Della's heart did a high five against her chest. “You found files on two girls named Natasha? Why didn't you tell me?”

“We just found them about eleven tonight. I was going to inform you of this as soon as … as this was over.”

“Did you find any record of a Liam?”

“No.”

All of a sudden, she felt a little panic seep in. “If it wasn't Chase who took those files, then we've lost them.”

“I had someone scan them into our computers. So we're fine. But I think we both know who did this. And he can't be doing this kind of shit. You don't piss off the FRU!”

Della nodded, but didn't say anything. Hell, if Della had known the files were there, she might have broken in to get them, too. Then, suddenly, Della realized what this meant. Chase had been in the vision with her. Why else would he have gone and taken only those files?

“I'll go with you,” she said, the urgency she'd felt at the falls about finding Natasha returning full force.

“No,” he said. “I haven't gotten the clearance for you to work the case yet. I should have it tomorrow afternoon, then we'll set you up. I know this is hard, but for now … go back to Shadow Falls and try to get some rest. You haven't slept. Skip school today. We'll need you at your best tomorrow.”

“What's hard is knowing I could be doing something instead of twiddling my thumbs. Why can't I just—?”

“No,” he said firmly. “Go get some rest.”

Della clenched her jaw to keep from arguing, then said, “I want to stay here for a bit and then … then I want to go see Steve. I'll go rest after that.” She hadn't even given seeing Steve much thought, but the moment it came out, she knew it wasn't just what she wanted, but what she needed.

She needed Steve. Needed … his arms around her. More hugs? But crap, she really had to look into an anti-hug patch.

Maybe even an anti-Steve patch.

“Fine. I need to get to the agency. Do you want me to have an agent escort you—?”

“Will you stop babying me? I can take care of myself, or have you forgotten?”

Burnett frowned. “Fine, be safe. Keep the speed down and fly below the trees if it's daylight.”

“I will.”

“And if you hear from Chase, tell him I want to see him immediately, then call me.”

She nodded, but it wasn't the most confident nod. What was Burnett going to do? He turned as if to go and she realized she needed answers.

“Wait,” Della said. “Have you heard from the Vampire Council? Did Chase get in touch with them? Has the FRU made a definite decision about me and Chase working together?” If he hadn't told her about the files, there was a chance he hadn't told her about the other things.

From the look on his face, she was right. “The Vampire Council called and I asked about the possibility of Chase working for the FRU. Or at least you and Chase collaborating, and I was told they would consider it. I'm sure the FRU will accept it, but…”

“But what?” she asked.

He looked back through the woods to make sure the other agents were gone. “But if they discover he's the one who took those files, they aren't going to let him work with us. They'll arrest him the first chance they get. He can't be doing shit like that. The FRU doesn't tolerate disobedience. And if you care about him, make sure he understands that.”

If she cared about him?

She did care. The thought hit that she'd just planned on going to see Steve—whom she also cared about. That's when she remembered her realization from earlier. She was hurting Steve. She had two choices. Give up working with Chase. Or give up Steve.

The mere thought of losing Steve sent every emotional nerve in her body rebelling and singing a tune of heartbreak. But the idea of pushing away Chase and lessening her chances of finding Natasha and Liam hurt, too.

Was there really no other way?

Find Natasha! Find Natasha!

Della's heart did a tumble when she heard the voice, but honestly, she wasn't sure if it was the ghost speaking or just her remembering.

“I have to go,” Burnett said, bringing Della back to the present.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

He looked down at her. “About what?”

“About Chase.” Then suddenly, she couldn't let him answer, afraid she wouldn't like it. “Look, you can't tell the FRU that it was him who broke in.” She sensed Chase would help find Natasha. That somehow he was part of the plan and that was the reason they'd been called to the falls at the same time. “Don't do it for Chase, do it for Natasha and Liam.”

Burnett ran a hand over the back of his neck and squeezed as if to relieve some tension. “I wasn't planning on turning him in, but let's hope he didn't leave any evidence behind that will lead them to him. I won't be able to stop them if they figure out it was him.”

She nodded. “Are you sure I can't come? I could start going over the files you have on the two girls named Natasha.”

Burnett scowled at her. “Della, I'm almost certain you're going to be working this case, and that Chase will be your partner, but you need to deal with losing your cousin for at least a day. You need rebound time.”

“I've dealt with it for almost a month now,” she said. “This…” She waved to the grave, “This was my closure.”

His lips tightened in frustration like they always did when she argued with him. Yet, she knew he couldn't dispute her logic. The fact that her emotions had no logic was her own secret. She had a feeling she'd be rebounding over Chan's death for a long time to come.

“I can understand that, but you still can't go tonight. I don't have clearance to bring you on the case. Go see Steve, and then get some rest. Be ready to start on this tomorrow.”

He took off. Della moved back to Chan's gravesite. She dropped back down on the cold earth and just sat there, curled up in a ball, trying to emotionally come to terms with her most pressing problems.

Chan's death.

Natasha and Liam.

Steve and Chase.

The stars and moon slowly faded. A tiny slice of sun chased the night away, but even with the promise of a new day, a sense of isolation filled her. She sat extra still, surrounded by gravestones. Alone.

The chill came back and she had to amend her last thought. Maybe she wasn't really alone. She looked around. She didn't see anyone. But she felt someone. Goose bumps spidered down her arms and spine.

“Do I know you?” Her words seemed to be swallowed by the predawn gray. She stared back at Chan's grave. The sun peeked a little higher above the eastern horizon, and stripes of bright pink and purple appeared.

She watched the ball of orange as it slowly inched up into the sky, drowning out the sunrise colors, but bringing dusty light and some white clouds that swayed in the blue sky. She tried to ignore the chill. A chill that felt haunted.

Her gaze locked on the sky as the cold around her increased and the clouds began to form shapes. Shapes that looked almost like three people posing for a …

Remembering the picture, she pulled it out and studied it again. When she looked up to compare the crazy cloud formation, it was gone. She stared again at the image, then turned it over. There, scribbled in light pencil, so light she'd missed it earlier, were three names. Chan, Miao—who was Chan's mother—and …

“Damn.” Her voice seemed small in the big haunted place.

Natasha.

Chan knew Natasha? Was it the same Natasha? But what the hell was the connection?

Standing, she walked over to Chan's grave. She stared at the tombstone, the light breeze sending the yellow flowers dancing in front of the engraving.

“Who is Natasha? What's her last name?” She didn't know who she was talking to, Chan or the ghost from earlier—the one who spoke in a feminine voice. But somebody had better answer her. And fast.

“It's either Natasha Brian or Natasha Owen,” a voice spoke behind her just as she heard the sound of someone's feet hitting the ground.

 

Chapter Eleven

It only took a flicker of a second for the male voice to become familiar and for his scent to find its way into Della's memory bank.

She turned and faced Chase.

In the silence of a day that hadn't fully woken up, they stared at each other. “Are you okay?” he finally asked, sounding and looking soulful, perhaps apologetic.

She guessed his expression and tone was about Chan. Like being hit with a switch, her resentment at him for not trying hard enough to save her cousin resurfaced. Then, as if the switch was suddenly reset, she found herself questioning the justice of those sentiments.

She recalled with clarity how much pain she'd endured at the second turn, and how Chase had endured it with her, just to offer her a better chance of survival. Then she recalled him telling her over and over again that he didn't believe Chan would have survived, even with his help. Would she have endured that for someone, someone she hardly knew, if she didn't think he would live? And knowingly let another innocent person die, someone she thought had a better chance?