“I doubt that,” said another of the six, one of the blond guys who looked around her father’s age.
“She is everything I told you,” Chase spoke up.
The older dude added, “We were delighted to hear you wanted to meet with us. And we shall not pretend that our hope isn’t that you intend to join us as one of our agents.”
Okay, this was going to be very tricky. “I can’t say that is my intention at this time. However, I’ve always been one to like options.”
“Disappointing, but well delivered, young lady,” said another of the six.
“So, what is your intent in meeting us?” asked the eldest.
“I guess you might say curiosity.”
“About us?” the eldest questioned.
“Yes. And more.”
“The ‘more’ being?” asked the youngest of the council.
She stiffened her spine and heard Chase shift in his chair beside her. She hadn’t gotten this far to be too afraid to ask. “I’m curious as to why you would send an agent to ensure my cousin and I would get though the rebirth?”
“We offer sympathies for your cousin’s death,” said the talk dark man on the council.
Sympathies? She realized she might not be able to be angry at Chase for being unable to save both her and Chan, but … “Could you not have sent two Reborns to help us and saved him as well?” She glanced back to the youngest of the group, who seemed more opt to answer.
“Unfortunately, we do not have the staff to do that,” he said.
“Then how do you have the staff to check on every possible Reborn?”
When he didn’t answer right away, she said, “Is there a reason you sent someone to check on my cousin and me?”
“It’s apparent that someone with your talents and abilities would be an asset to our team of agents,” answered the youngest of the council again.
“So, you do have a list of all potential Reborns?” she asked. “And you send someone out to all of them?”
“We make it our business to stay informed,” said the eldest again.
Della got the sense he wasn’t answering her questions as much as placating her.
He waved his aged hand and continued. “We strive to offer help to all those possible.”
But they hadn’t strived that hard to save Chan. If they were that concerned, they could have sent two agents, couldn’t they?
She heard Chase say something under his breath, but she ignored him. “So who informed you about me and my cousin?”
“You are indeed filled with curiosity, Miss Tsang,” the eldest spoke again. “And if you were working for us, you would have access to a colossal amount of information.”
Della stiffened. Why did that almost sound like a bribe, the same one Chase had offered earlier? Go work for them and she’d get her answers.
“Considering that I am in a sense working for you, I thought you might respect me enough to answer my inquiries now.”
“And we did,” said the eldest.
Bullshit!
“Is there another question you would like to pose?” the man continued. “Perhaps one that might encourage you to join us in our struggles to help provide justice to our kind? If not, I think we shall call this meeting over.”
Something about his tone came off as condescending. “I don’t think you’ve really answered—”
“Enough,” Chase whispered, and reached over and squeezed her hand. Then he stood up. “I appreciate you taking the time for us.”
Della sat there debating the wisdom of speaking out one more time. They hadn’t actually done anything to prove her right, nor had they done anything to prove her wrong.
“Good luck finding the missing vampires, Chase. And you, Miss Tsang,” said one of the blond men.
Chase nodded, then looked at her and motioned for her to stand. When she didn’t move, he reached down. She stared daggers at his hand, which was literally pulling her up and out.
“Miss Tsang?” one of the council spoke. She looked back over her shoulder, not caring that her eyes were probably bright from fury.
“If you change your mind about working for us, you will find there is a place for you here.”
She swallowed the retort she wanted to give, something about a cold day in hell. Then, without another word, she left the room and restaurant so fast, she probably appeared as a blur to the patrons eating in the front.
It wasn’t even five-thirty, but the sun had already set and it was almost dark. She leapt into the passenger seat of the car and waited for Chase to open his door and slide in with a calmness that downright irritated her.
“That was bullshit!” she told him.
“They answered you, Della.”
“They did more talking around my questions than answering them.”
“And you think the FRU is better? You think if I went in there asking questions to the bigwigs of the FRU that I’d get straight answers?”
She remembered her little encounter with those FRU bigwigs. “Maybe not, but why couldn’t your council just have told me instead of…?”
“I seem to recall one telling you that you had talent and abilities that we could use. That seemed pretty straightforward to me.”
“Then why didn’t it feel like the truth?”
“Maybe you just don’t want it to be.” He paused and looked out the front of the car as someone passed by. “What is it you’re hoping to learn?”
When she didn’t answer, he asked, “Do you want to put blame on them for Chan’s death?”
“No. I want…” She almost told him then about her uncle, about the murder of her aunt, then she heard his words from earlier in the car: If you came to work for them you could ask all kinds of questions.
He swore he hadn’t been implying anything, but … she still had a tiny whisper of doubt.
“Maybe I don’t know what I want,” she said, and there was some truth in that. Did she really want to find her uncle now that she suspected he’d killed her aunt?
Chase pulled out of the parking lot. “We should probably just head to the airport. Do you know where we’re supposed to meet Burnett?”
“He said he’d call.”
Her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket. “Speak of the devil.”
“So you’re admitting he’s the devil,” Chase said with a touch of humor.
She cut him a smartass look and answered the phone. “Hey, I was wondering when—”
“Where exactly are you?” Burnett barked.
“About fifteen miles outside of Fallen, we were just heading toward Houston.”
“Where?”
Della recalled the street signs she’d just seen. “We’re in the twenty-nine-hundred block of Howell Street.”
“Hold on,” he said, then she heard him say to someone else, “They’re close.” And then, “Della, do you know where Cooper Airport is?”
She looked at Chase and he nodded.
“Yeah. Chase knows. What’s wrong?”
“We put a man on the plane with Damian Bond. Ten minutes ago, he realized the guy sitting in that seat is only a lookalike. He confessed to our agent that Damian took an earlier flight, a smaller plane that should be arriving at Cooper airport in fifteen minutes. We’re pretty sure it’s flight ten-twenty-six on Token Airlines. We’re already in Houston. Even flying it’s going to take us twenty to get there. You might make it in ten if you ditch the car and fly. Both of you should have just gotten his mug shot on your phones.”
Della heard both of their phones ding. Chase looked around for a place to park.
“Stay away from any major streets,” Burnett continued. “It’s not quite dark enough, and I don’t want you getting spotted.”
“We won’t,” Della said.
“And don’t … do not … confront Damian. Just follow him. He carries a Glock and he likes using it. You got that?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“Do you understand, Chase?” Burnett barked.
> “Yeah,” Chase answered, and he grimaced as he pulled over in a drugstore parking lot beside a patch of trees.
Perfect for taking off.
The line went dead. Della pushed a button and stared at Damian Bond’s face. Ready or not, here we come.
* * *
Nine minutes and thirty seconds later, they landed in a wooded lot a half block from the airport. It was the first time since being Reborn that Della had flown that fast. If she wasn’t so worried about what they were about to do, she would have really enjoyed it.
The sun had completely faded, only the corner of the western sky held a touch of color to bid the day good-bye.
They didn’t speak. No time. If the plane came in early, their last lead to finding Natasha and Liam could be gone. Her blood zinged through her body, preparing to do whatever it took to keep Damian in their sights.
She ran her hand through her winded hair as they headed out of the woods toward the one-story airport.
“Look.” She spotted the lights of a plane already on the ground and rolling in to the airport.
“That’s probably him,” Chase said. They hurried their steps, trying not to call attention to themselves as a couple of cars pulled into the airport parking lot. Walking into the building, which was mostly glass, there were about two dozen people standing around waiting for passengers.
Della noted a mom and her two red-haired kids. Burnett’s idea of just following Damian seemed like a good one, the last thing she wanted was someone innocent to get hurt.
Following Chase through the crowd, she could see the plane through the glass doors. Passengers were disembarking and waiting at the foot of the steps for their luggage. But so far, she hadn’t seen Damian.
She pulled out her phone again to study his face and then slipped it back in her pocket.
“There’s Daddy,” said the woman with two kids who’d moved up to the glass. “Wave at Daddy.”
Della glanced at Chase. “We just follow him,” she whispered. “I don’t want trouble here.”
“I know.” He glanced at the woman, obviously knowing exactly what Della was thinking.
“There,” he said and her gaze shot to the were walking out of the plane. The light on the outside of the building pointed toward the plane, giving Della a good view. Early thirties maybe, Damian wore jeans and a black jacket, probably to cover his gun. His dark hair was slicked back, reminding her of some mobster. His eyes were too far apart. His mouth too thin. A woman walked out of the plane at the same time, and their suspect, not exactly a gentleman, cut her off to make the steps first. No doubt, he was as ugly as he was mean.
“Let’s pull back,” Della said, afraid he would spot two vampires and know they were onto him. Sure he’d smell them, but if they weren’t too close he might not suspect they were here for him.
They moved behind the crowd, but Chase stayed between two groups of people so he could keep an eye on their suspect. Della shifted a little to the right behind an older lady so she too had a line of vision. The passengers started moving inside. The noise level in the mostly glass room grew as people greeted each other.
“Shit!” muttered Chase.
“What?” she asked, looking at him and realizing that he wasn’t even looking at Damian, but behind them.
Della twisted and saw exactly what had him panicking. Two police cars screeched to a halt in front of the airport. Their lights whirled around giving everything and everyone a blue cast.
“Did Burnett call the police?” Chase seethed.
“I don’t think so,” Della said as she watched four officers rush inside the building.
Della grabbed her phone to call Burnett, but before she could dial, a woman screamed. A child cried out.
Then a gunshot.
Chapter Thirty-nine
The bullet ricocheted off something metal and binged around the room.
“Police,” screamed one of the four officers behind them. “Get down!”
“Drop your weapon,” ordered another.
Everyone plummeted to the floor. Della and Chase went down on their haunches, both prepared to launch off if needed. Then he put his arm around her, holding her down, and preventing her from seeing. Refusing to be blocked, she knocked his arm away.
Damian and one other man stood in front of the glass wall. Both of them had guns. But Damian had something the other didn’t. He held the red-haired baby girl dressed in pink, about the same age as Hannah. He pressed his gun to the screaming child’s head as the mother on the floor sobbed.
“You don’t want to do this,” called one officer.
Della again noticed the other guy with the gun. He wasn’t supernatural. Did Damian have a human accomplice? Then she noted how the two guys shot each other puzzled looks.
Crap. What were the chances they had two criminals on one plane?
Damian looked back at the officers. “Drop your guns or I’ll blow this kid’s head off.”
The mother’s sobs rang out with others’ screams. Della’s heart clutched and she felt her canines extend and her eyes stung from the oncoming brightness.
The other guy just stood there, gun out, but appearing stunned. Della glanced back at the officers, wondering which of these guys they were after. Had Damian’s crimes become a human problem, or were they after criminal number two?
“Keep your head down,” she heard Chase whisper, but she could barely hear him over the screams of the crowd.
She lowered her head, but cut her eyes up, still able to see what was happening in front.
“There’s four of us,” said one of the officers. “And it’s not going to end well.”
Damian gave the baby girl a cold look. “Yeah, and we know who it’s going to end badly for,” Damian said and lifted his head as if to sniff the air, no doubt picking up on their scents.
“He knows we’re here,” she muttered in an almost silent whisper.
“Yeah, but he doesn’t know who we are yet,” Chase whispered back. “So keep your head down. We’ll have a better chance of overtaking him.”
Feeling her blood fizz in her veins, she could hear her heartbeat hitting her ribs as if it wanted to escape. The child’s screams had her wanting to attack.
“Drop your guns or the kid dies!” yelled Damian, but he was busy looking around the crowd for them instead of focusing on the cops.
The mother screamed again and Della saw someone holding the woman back. But no one was holding Della back.
She tightened her calf muscles, ready to lunge, but Chase must have felt her slight movements. His arm came back down on her.
“Not yet,” he said in her ear.
But Della didn’t see any choice. She saw Damian’s finger go for the trigger. Bolting up, she dove for him, praying she got there in time.
Still airborne, she saw Criminal Number Two turn his gun toward her.
Chase dove in front of her.
The gun exploded.
Chase! Her heart stopped, but she couldn’t. She had to save the baby first.
Seconds felt like minutes. She grabbed Damian’s right arm and twisted until she heard it break. He dropped the baby, but the mother bolted over and caught it. Damian’s gun clanked to the floor and Della kicked it and heard it skid across the tile. Then with force propelled by fury, she shoved him to the ground. His head hit the hard floor with a thud.
Another gun went off.
More screams exploded. People started scrambling.
The police rushed forward. Della stepped away as they reached Damian.
Her heart stopped midbeat as she turned to look for Chase.
People were everywhere, falling over each other to try to get out. The cops had the other guy on the ground. Another two were standing over Damian.
She shifted her gaze from left to right.
Right to left.
She couldn’t find Chase.
Tears stung her eyes. Where was he, damn it?
She felt someone step behind her, but her nose sai
d it wasn’t Chase, so she ignored the presence and continued to look for him.
But then the scent hit. Not Chase, but another were.
“Are you here to help? Or part of the problem?” a voice asked behind her.
Turning her head, she saw one of the officers. She’d been so tense earlier she hadn’t picked up on his scent.
But a quick glance at his forehead confirmed what her nose had already told her. He was half were, half human.
“To help. I’m … we’re with the FRU.” Della turned back to look for Chase, feeling her panic climb at frightening speeds.
The officer grabbed Della by the arm. “Then you need to show me your badge.”
Before Della could cut him a sharp look, a growl sounded behind her. “Release her.”
She swung around, pulling out of the were officer’s grip. Her eyes landed on Chase, and only then did air get to her lungs.
“You okay?” she asked. Then she cut her eyes down and saw blood high up on the arm of his shirt. “You’re hit!”
“Just grazed,” he said, still glaring at the officer.
“I still haven’t seen a badge,” the were in the uniform said.
The officer could strip naked and howl for all she cared. All she cared about was Chase. And not trusting his assessment of his injury, she reached up, found the hole in his shirt, and ripped it open to see for herself. He hadn’t been lying. The bullet had just grazed his forearm.
He’d dove in front of her. He’d taken a bullet for her—put his life at risk. Her heart started pulling in about a dozen different directions, as did her emotions. She wanted to slap him for doing something so stupid, she wanted to kiss him because he was okay.
“Happy?” he asked, looking down at her.
“Yeah,” she said. Only then did she look back to the were wearing the uniform and waiting for answers. “I’m a junior agent, working under Burnett James. He and several other agents should be here in less than ten minutes. We’ll be taking Damian Bond.”
He must have recognized Burnett’s name, because his eyes that had started to brighten faded back to their hazel green. “Well, they’d better hurry. And have the proper paperwork. They,” he nodded to the other officers, “aren’t going to just let him go. And if you two don’t want to be dragged into this, you’d better disappear.”