Ten minutes later, she followed him in a fast run, or tried to follow him. He kept going faster and faster. His only comment to her when she’d stepped beside him outside the bar had been, “Keep up if you can.”
The one thing Della hated more than taking a challenge she thought she’d lose was walking away from one without trying. Her feet pounded the cold dirt. She kept her focus on Chase, who seemed to run without effort. His feet left the ground and he went into full flight. Della did the same, but the energy it took her to fly at that speed caused her gut to ache.
Midflight, Chase turned and looked at her. Checking on her. As if noting her condition, he shifted and started down, navigating between the trees to solid ground. He came to an easy stop, not even breathing hard, and looked up at her descending.
She hit the ground with a thud, but thankfully managed to stay on her feet. She tried to hide the fact that her lungs wouldn’t take air. Then, like the other night when they’d gone running, her stomach cramped. Swinging around, she lost the contents of her stomach in the brush.
When she rose up and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, he stood beside her. “At least it wasn’t on my shoes this time.”
She glared up at him. She normally didn’t puke after her runs, but then again, she didn’t push herself like this either.
“Okay, you’re faster than me,” she snapped. “Don’t rub it in.” Admitting it cost her a bit of pride.
“I’m not trying to rub it in.” For a flicker of a second she saw what looked like concern in his eyes. “Running is good for you, come on. It will help.” He turned and took off again.
She didn’t.
He got about fifty feet, stopped, and shot back to stand in front of her. “Don’t wimp out on me.”
She ignored his insult. “Help with what?”
He hesitated before answering. “The grief.”
“I’m dealing with it.” And as much as she hated admitting it, it was true. Focusing on finding Lorraine’s killer held the grief at bay.
“Not very well.” He started walking, fast. She moved beside him. They didn’t speak for a few minutes.
“You ready to go?” he asked.
“To look for the Jugglers?” she asked, setting aside her angst with him.
“No,” he said. “To run. We’re done with the case for the night.”
“Done? How could—?”
“Someone will tell the gang we were looking for them and they’ll be here tomorrow when we come back.”
“What makes you think someone will tell them?”
“Because establishments like that are loyal to the local gangs. They depend on them for protection and business.”
“How do you know so much about gangs and establishments like that?” she asked, her mind going to her original beef with this guy. Where the hell did she know him from? Had he been a part of the gang that had been fighting when she first saw Chan?
“I’ve been on the streets a long time,” he said.
“How long? When were you turned?” She stopped to see if he’d answer.
He took a couple more steps, then faced her again. “I was fourteen.” He started jogging, but not at a breakneck speed.
She joined him. “How did you survive?” The muscles in her legs stung from her previous exertion.
“Race me back to Shadow Falls. If you win, I’ll answer the question.”
Temptation had her pulse racing, but she wasn’t stupid. “I’ve already admitted you’re faster.”
He stopped. “Race me, and I’ll tell you for trying.”
She didn’t like losing or consolation prizes. “Maybe I don’t want to know that badly.” She did, but her interest in him grated on her more than anything else.
“Sure you do,” he said confidently. “You wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t want to know.”
She frowned and tried to find a way to make this work for her. “I tell you what, I’ll race you if … win or lose, you tell me where I know you from. And this time, don’t lie to me.”
He blinked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do.” She glared up at him.
“Can’t you hear my heartbeat? I’m not lying.”
“You’re forgetting, I heard what you told our friend back there. You told me your parents were killed and you told him your mother lived here. So I know you lied to one of us, and your heart never skipped a beat.” At least she assumed it hadn’t skipped when he’d told this to the creep at the bar.
Chase appeared caught. “I lie when I have to.”
“Or when it’s convenient.” Maybe you’re a pathological liar.
“I wish it’d been that easy. Controlling my heartbeat is something I worked at for a long time.”
She remembered seeing his expression twitch when she thought he’d lied earlier. She moved in front of him and studied his face, but tilted her head to the side so he’d assume she was listening. “Does your mother live here?”
“I told you they died.” His eyes didn’t shift.
“Where have we met before?” She tossed the question out there and didn’t breathe, waiting.
“I don’t think we’ve ever crossed paths.” He didn’t blink, but his left brow twitched. Was that enough to call it a lie?
And if he was lying, why? What wasn’t he telling her?
He started walking again. She followed, trying to figure out her next move.
After a few minutes of silence, he spoke. “You should have never let him touch you.”
When she didn’t respond, he jumped in front of her and started walking backwards, making it hard to ignore him.
“He was answering my questions,” she said. “More than you’ve done.”
“I could have gotten those answers myself.”
She tilted her chin up. “I don’t think you were his type.”
Chase’s laugh caught her off guard. It sounded so deep and honest. She remembered how he’d handled himself in the bar. It irked her that she was still impressed. Impressed with a liar.
“You ready to run again?” he asked, as if thinking they’d found some kind of a truce. There was no truce. Not until she knew what he was up to. She recalled her conversation with Jenny. Who the hell was Chase secretly meeting with late at night at the Shadow Falls fence?
“Come on a short run,” he prodded.
“I’m done running.” What was it with this guy and racing? Was he training for the Olympics?
She darted around him, walking in the direction of Shadow Falls.
“Come on. It’s good for you,” he said, falling beside her again.
“The truth is good for me.” She felt him, too close. As if they were old friends.
They walked in silence. The night seemed extra quiet. Only the sound of their footfalls on the soft earth and dead leaves filled the night.
They were almost to the gate when he spoke. “My father was a doctor. He owned a small plane. We were all in it. It went down.”
She looked at him. Nothing about his expression said he lied. Quite the opposite. Grief touched his eyes.
“I was the only one to survive. But I was hurt pretty badly. The guy who found me was vampire. I was a carrier of the virus and when he helped me, I turned.”
“So he took you in?”
“Yeah.”
“Was he rogue?” She couldn’t help but try to see his angle for being at Shadow Falls. Was he helping some rogue organization or gang who wanted to shut down the school because of its affiliation with the FRU?
This wouldn’t be the first time.
“Depends on what you call rogue. He’s a decent guy but not registered.”
Of all the things he could have said, this was the one she could relate to the most. Wasn’t this the very reason she’d kept information about Chan from Burnett? Why she wasn’t mentioning her uncle or aunt?
“So why come to Shadow Falls?” she asked.
“I heard about it. Thought it’d be i
nteresting.” His pupil in his left eye dilated slightly.
So he was here for a reason, but what? She almost called him on the lie, but now that she had a better handle on detecting his untruths, maybe it was wise to see what she could learn. Let the guy lie himself into a corner he couldn’t get out of.
Looking up, she saw the Shadow Falls fence ahead. She pulled out her phone to dial Burnett. She had missed two calls. But no voice messages.
She checked the numbers. One was unfamiliar for a second, but then she recognized it. Kevin, Chan’s friend. The grief that had been pocketed away slipped out.
What did Kevin want with her? Paybacks can be hell. She did owe him a favor.
The second number flashed across the screen and she felt her heartstrings being yanked in another direction. Steve.
She tucked all those emotions away to deal with later and started to dial Burnett. But her phone rang first. Burnett’s number lit up her cell screen.
“We’re back. At the fence on the north side,” she said in lieu of hello.
“Is everything okay?” The camp leader’s tone came off short. Tense.
“Fine.”
“Come to the office. Now,” he insisted.
Oh, hell, Della thought. Sounded like some more shit had hit the fan.
“We’ll be right there.”
“No,” Burnett clipped out. “Alone. I just want to see you right now. I’ll contact Chase when I need him.” The camp leader hung up.
Obviously listening, Chase’s brow instantly creased with worry, and she didn’t know who was in trouble. Her or the panty perv.
Chapter Twenty-six
Burnett stood silently on the office porch, waiting for her to arrive. When she landed right in front of the steps, he stood there, nose in the air and head slightly tilted as if checking to make sure they didn’t have company.
When his gaze landed on her and he didn’t scowl in the way he usually did when her butt was in trouble—which happened to be a look she was accustomed to seeing—she suspected the person on the camp leader’s shit list was Chase and not her.
“How did things go?” he finally asked after leading her back into his office and motioning for her to sit down. As she followed his instructions, he dropped into the chair behind his huge mahogany desk. Somehow he still managed to make the desk look small.
She started spilling the details of the night, and he held up his hand. “I know what happened. I had another agent there and they’ve already reported back.”
She frowned. “You didn’t trust—”
Burnett dropped his palms on his desk with a thump. “Don’t even go there. This isn’t about trust. Generally speaking there is always a backup agent working any case with younger unpolished agents.”
She resented the “unpolished” remark, but kept her mouth shut.
“What I need to know is how things went between you and Chase. Do you still mistrust him?”
“I…” She remembered Chase giving the guy hell for calling her a whore. She met Burnett’s gaze. “Why?”
“Just answer me, please.”
She had to stop for another second to know the answer. “Yes. I’m still leery. But probably not as much as before.”
“And you still won’t tell me why you have misgivings for this guy?”
Della chewed on that question for another second. She couldn’t tell Burnett what Jenny had seen, but … “I recognized his scent when I first met him. I don’t know from where. But it almost feels as if it has a negative vibe attached to it.”
“And you chose not to tell me this earlier?” Burnett’s brows pinched.
“I wanted to make sure I was right.” She stood a little squarer, prepared for him to get miffed.
“And have you?”
She hesitated, something Burnett didn’t like.
“Della, do you trust him or not?”
“Not completely, but I can’t actually recall meeting him.”
“Have you confronted him?”
“I have, and he tells me I’m wrong.”
“But you still don’t believe him.” Burnett leaned against his desk, concern continuing to tighten his expression. “Did you not listen—?”
“The heart lies sometimes. Wasn’t it you who told me that?” It suddenly occurred to her that Burnett had to suspect that Chase could lie, or he’d have him in here interrogating him instead of Della. Frankly, she wanted to find out how one went about training to do that, too. It could be quite useful while working for the FRU.
Burnett folded his hands together on the desk. “At any point during this operation did you fear for your safety? Or think Chase would hurt you? Or betray you?”
Della considered it, and all she could recall was how angry he’d gotten when the creep had taken liberties and touched her. “No.”
“But you still don’t trust him.”
“Not wholeheartedly.” She told the truth and then countered. “And neither do you. What’s changed?”
“I didn’t—”
“You trusted him this morning and now … not so much.”
Burnett unfolded his hands. “Right before you called, some of the information he gave me came back … iffy.”
So she and Burnett shared the same concern. “He told me his parents were killed in a plane wreck. He was turned then, at fourteen years old, when a vampire found him.”
“I’ve confirmed his parents died in a plane crash,” Burnett said.
Della couldn’t help but imagine how hard it must have been on a young Chase, losing his family and being turned in the same day. Not that this actually meant she could trust him. Bad things happened to people and sometimes that was what twisted them into being bad.
“Then what’s iffy?” she asked Burnett.
“Where he lived. Basic stuff.”
“He said California,” Della said, and then asked, “What other basic stuff?” She recalled Chase telling her the man who rescued her wasn’t registered. If that was what he was hiding, she sure as hell couldn’t blame him.
“I’m looking into it,” Burnett said, and that was the camp leader’s way of saying back off. Della hesitated to say anything more, but then … “You know there could be reasons he’s keeping things from you. Reasons that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s bad.”
God knew she kept some things to herself. Most of them painful things.
Burnett’s brow pinched tighter. “True, but I need to make sure those secrets aren’t anything that would cause the school or the FRU harm. And unfortunately I’ve also learned that when people hide things, it’s usually not good.” He leaned in. “Do you trust him or not? Why am I getting mixed feelings from you?”
You like me. You just don’t realize it yet. Chase’s words played in her head and she even saw his sexy smile. “I … don’t know. I mean, I don’t trust him like I would someone else from here, Lucas or Derek, or … Steve, but I … don’t think he’s all bad either.” The truth tasted funny on her tongue.
“Fine.” Burnett slapped his hands on the desk. “Meanwhile, let me know if you learn anything new?”
Feeling the meeting was over, she stood up.
“Any news on Chan’s autopsy?”
“Not yet. Sorry.”
She nodded, feeling the frustration of that issue still heavy on her heart, and then she walked away. Only a few feet out the door, she heard the stoic vampire say, “Good job tonight, Della. Between Craig Anthony’s arrest and now this, I’m proud of you.”
She didn’t look back, but whispered, “Thanks.” A sense of pride swelled up inside her, and she latched on to the feeling with a hungry heart. She would need any good emotion to counter the negative crap on her plate right now.
As she walked out, her phone dinged with a text. For some reason she suspected it was Steve. The negative crap had arrived.
Della’s walk back to her cabin seemed too quiet, and thoughts of Steve became second to the eeriness of the night. She pulled out her phone and checked the t
ext. She’d been wrong. The last ding hadn’t been a text from Steve. It was from Kevin, Chan’s friend.
Call me.
She hit a few buttons to return his call. It went to voicemail. “What’s up? It’s Della.” She hung up, and right then a cold chill sent goose bumps chasing more goose bumps up her spine.
A few clouds kept passing over the moon and ridding the path of any silver glow. She didn’t know which was creepier, the silver glow, the smothering blackness, or the cold silence.
All of a sudden, she didn’t feel alone. She lifted her face to catch a scent, only to remember her nose wasn’t working properly. She cut her eyes left and right. A pair of yellow possum eyes stared back. It wasn’t a possum she felt.
She remembered Chan’s ghost. Her heart grew instantly heavy. Was he here? She thought he’d passed on, but maybe she’d thought wrong.
“Chan, is that you?” The cold wind seemed to suck the question into the night’s darkness.
The clouds shifted again, offering her enough glow to see the path. She heard the slightest rustle in the air and looked up, half expecting to see feathers. But only an orange leaf rained down. A dead leaf.
Had Chan shifted from feathers to leaves? Or was she simply overreacting? “If you’re here, I want you to know that I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”
The moon slipped away again. Out of the blackness came a sound. Footsteps trailing behind her. Chan?
Did a ghost’s steps make sound? A current of fear ran through her. She fought the need to run. But she reminded herself it was Chan. Even dead, he was her cousin. A cousin she’d let down.
She turned. Her heart jolted when she saw the figure behind her. Because she was unable to smell who it could be, panic had her fangs extending.
“It’s just me,” a soft voice said. A soft, recognizable voice.
“Damn it, Jenny. Never sneak up on a vampire. I could have attacked.”
“I’m sorry,” Jenny said, not coming any closer. “I didn’t mean to…” She glanced around nervously. “… intrude. Is there a ghost here?”