Unspoken: Shadow Falls: After Dark (18 page)

“Do you believe it?” Miranda asked.

“I don’t know what I believe anymore,” Della sighed. “Tomorrow we’re getting my dad’s case file from the DA.”

Kylie turned the soda can in her hand. “Maybe you’ll find out what he told the police and then you’ll know for sure if he saw the murder.”

“Yeah.” Della looked again at her phone, and when she glanced up both Miranda and Kylie were studying her.

“Who are you dying to hear from?” the witch asked.

“I’m not. I … Oh, hell!” She pulled in a pound of oxygen. “Chase is doing something stupid.” She told them about Chase’s visit to the prison.

“And you’re not going to call Burnett?” Kylie asked.

“No, because if the situation were reversed and he told Burnett on me, I’d never tell him anything again. He’s working my father’s case. I need him to trust me.”

“But if something happens to him, you’ll never forgive yourself,” Kylie said.

“Do you see what a position he’s put me in?” Della snapped.

“Well, maybe you told me and then I told Burnett. It wouldn’t be your fault.”

“He’d still be pissed.”

“But at me more than you,” Kylie said.

Della looked at her phone for the hundredth time. “Give him thirty more minutes. If he doesn’t contact me, then you can call Burnett.”

Miranda turned her Coke in her hands. “Have you seen Steve?”

Della frowned. “Yeah. He heard about me going to identify some bodies and he came to see if I needed to talk about it.”

“That’s sweet,” Miranda said.

“Yeah,” Della said. “Steve’s sweet.”

“But?” Kylie asked.

“But she cares more about Chase,” Miranda said, putting words in Della’s mouth.

“No.” Della felt her heart thump to the tune of a lie. “I would be just as worried about Steve if he was in danger.”

“Would you?” Kylie asked.

“Yeah,” she said, but that came with a tremble of her heart as well. “And if I wasn’t, it would be because of the bond. So that wouldn’t count.

“Because … because … It wasn’t my choice to care.” But she heard Chase’s words:
You still have a choice.

Did she?

“Everything in my life feels like I don’t have a choice. Everything is changing and I don’t get a say in it. It’s my friggin’ life, and all I am is a spectator.”

“I’d have to disagree with that,” Kylie said. “I’ve never met anyone who fights as much as you do against anything.”

“Yeah, but just because I fight doesn’t change anything. I was turned into a vampire and no amount of fighting changed that.”

“It didn’t change it, but you’re here at Shadow Falls because you had the nerve to call Holiday,” Kylie said. “We can’t always change what happens, but we always have control over how we deal with those things.”

“You’re channeling Holiday again and spouting all that psychoanalytical crap,” Della accused.

“Sorry,” Kylie said, smiling. “Sometimes her wisdom just takes me over.”

“Nobody likes a wiseass,” Della smarted back, only half serious.

“Did you kiss him?” Miranda asked.

“Duh, you saw it,” Della said.

“Not Chase, Steve. Did you kiss Steve?”

“No,” Della said. “We just talked.”

“Did you want to kiss him?” Miranda asked.

Della squeezed the can. “I … I don’t know. I didn’t think about it.”

“But you thought about it with Chase, right?”

“No,” Della snapped. “I didn’t think about it. It just happened.”

“Hmm,” said Miranda.

“Don’t ‘hmm’ me,” Della said. “Things between Steve and me are different now.”

“Different how?” Miranda asked.

Della tried to define it and finally said, “He’s … He feels safer.”

“Safe is good,” Kylie said.

“Is it?” Della wasn’t sure. She hadn’t had a lot of time to think about it since she’d been dealing with the cat/dog disaster right after he’d left.

Speaking of “safe” had her checking the time. Was it time to let Kylie call Burnett?

*   *   *

Chase stepped into the long corridor, where only two low-voltage lights lit up the space. The sound of feet shuffling echoed as the prisoners came to gape from behind the bars. The cold in the room held on, but Chase decided to worry about remaining with the living instead of looking for the dead.

“I smell fresh meat,” a were said, his eyes already gold. With the full moon tomorrow, he would be at his strongest. He reached his arm out, and came within a few inches of touching Chase. He sensed another prisoner’s arms reach out behind him. Leo wasn’t joking about staying in the middle. One step to one side or the other and Chase would be within a prisoner’s reach.

Still, Chase didn’t react. He knew they could smell fear.

“Young meat,” another prisoner said.

“I smell blood,” said the occupant of cell six, his face pressed against the bars. Chase studied his forehead to see his pattern. Vampire.

He kept moving until he got halfway down the long hall, where he spotted cell eleven. The room was in shadows. Chase thought he could make out a man on the cot, but he wasn’t sure.

“Yes, I’ve got blood.” Chase pulled his backpack off his shoulder. That brought a few more of the prisoners shuffling to the bars. “And I’m sharing with anyone who can tell me what I want to know.”

“For some of that there blood, I’d give you my mama,” said a man in cell eight.

“I’m looking for a man named Douglas Stone. Vampire, probably in his mid- to late forties.” Chase kept watching cell eleven, hoping Mr. Pope would show his ugly face and some interest. Chase unscrewed the top of the bottle.

The scent filled his nose, almost hiding the stench of this place, and he knew the others could smell it as well.

“I know him,” said the guy in cell eight. “I’ll tell you exactly where to find him as soon as you pass me that there bottle.”

“Where do you know him from?” Chase listened to the man’s heartbeat. And had to concentrate over the sound of one of the weres bending one of the bars. Chase just prayed the bars held up long enough for him to get the information.

Chase took a long sip of the blood. “Anyone else want to try?”

“Why are you looking for him?” The voice came from cell eleven.

“Got a few questions for him.” Chase looked into the cell.

The man stepped out of the shadows. Jet black hair and dark blue eyes. His nose looked like it had been broken more times than it could be fixed. A scar ran from his eye down to his lip.

It must have been a dirty fight. Literally dirty, because vampires healed quickly and didn’t normally get scars. They were sort of like cats, and if the wound was dirty it would get infected and abscess, requiring the wound to be reopened. From the looks of things, Pope’s face had to be reopened several times.

The vamp inhaled as if just breathing in the scent of blood fed his soul. Leaning forward, he wrapped his fists around the bars, giving Chase an even better view of his scarred face.

“You know where I might find Mr. Stone?” Chase took another sip of blood, hoping Pope would be compelled to answer before Chase downed the entire eight ounces.

“I might be inclined.” The prisoner licked his lips and his eyes turned light green from the smell.

“Do you know where he lives?” Chase listened to the man’s heart.

“I know where he hangs out. He never lives in one place.” He put his hand through the bars. “Hand me that blood and I’ll tell you what I know.”

“I told you, I know,” yelled the guy in cell eight. His arm came through the bars. “Give it to me.”

Chase ignored the older vampire. He drank all but the last few precious drops and only then did he hand it to Pope. “Here’s a taste. If your info sounds legit, I got another one in my bag.”

The man snatched the bottle.

Chase could hear him swallow, trying to suck down every last drop.

He heard the grunting and growling sound of the were in cell one as he attempted to bend the bars. Chase’s time was limited.

“He buys and sells houses all over Houston,” Poke said. “Now hand me the damn blood.”

“I need more than that.” Chase looked back at the were’s cell and saw that he had his arm and part of his shoulder through the widened bars. Thankfully, his chest didn’t quite make it.

Growling, he looked at Chase. His eyes glowed an evil orange color and he latched on to the bars and went back to working on the metal.

“There’s a Douglas Stone somewhere in the old part of the Heights,” said Pope. “Now give me more.”

“Where in the Heights?” Chase pulled the Taser out from the waist of his jeans, just in case the were freed himself before Chase had the info he needed. Then with his other hand he pulled out the other bottle of blood.

“Last bottle,” he said, unscrewing the top. “And I’m thirsty.”

“He’s got some whore he hangs with that lives in a house off Main and Chestnut in downtown Jamesville.”

“Address?” Chase started to drink.

“I don’t know the friggin’ address!” he growled. “But wait. It’s beside a cheap Mexican food joint. Right beside it.” He stuck his hand out for the blood.

Chase heard the truth in his words and considered whether to hand it over. Then deciding he believed the man and figured the rogue had enough hell in life, he passed him the bottle. He looked over his shoulder at the were still pressing on the bars.

Pope gulped the blood down. Chase started backing out.

“You ain’t got a chance, kid,” Pope said, pulling the bottle from his lips long enough to speak. “You think I don’t know who you are?” The scarred vamp laughed.

Chase stopped, almost certain the man was lying, but … “Who do you think I am?”

“He told me about you. You’re that doctor’s boy. Not really his, ’cause he’s Asian. He knows you’ve been looking for him. He knows the doc’s been after his ass forever. But he’s not gonna find him, ’cause the council ain’t gonna let him find him.”

Shocked that he did know, Chase paused. “Why would they protect him?” Chase asked, sensing the temperature in the room drop.

Get out
.
Get out now.

Chase heard the female voice, knew it didn’t belong to this world, but he couldn’t listen, not now. “Why would they protect a murderer?”

“Don’t matter,” Pope said. “Ahh, but you shouldn’t’ve poked around in the wrong places. He’s gonna find your ass.”

Right then came a metal screech, followed by the clank of a bar hitting the concrete. Chase swung around, or tried to. He must have forgotten to stay in the middle and moved a little too far to one side. An arm came around, locked around his throat and something sharp jabbed into his back, slicing through skin.

The pain in his back hadn’t completely registered when he saw the were step free of the metal bars and charge.

“I got his liver,” said the were with his arm around Chase’s neck.

Damn it, Chase thought. No one was getting his liver.

Chapter Twenty-one

“That’s it, I’m calling Burnett,” Della snapped and threw the empty soda can that she’d been using as a stress ball across the room. Socks, still a kitten in spirit, charged after it. She reached for her phone.

“I thought you were going to let me do it.” Kylie put her hand over Della’s.

“No, Chase will know I forced you. I might as well own it.” She grabbed her phone and was about to dial when a text dinged.

“It’s from Chase.” She smiled as the tightness in her chest lightened. But then she read the text.

In front of school. Need help.

“Shit!” Della bolted up.

“What is it?” Miranda asked.

“He’s at the front gate. I’m gonna go meet him. I’ll see you guys later.” She shot out the door.

A red Corvette was parked in front. She walked through the gate, knowing the alarm would record her exit, but not caring.

A man got out of the driver’s side. She recognized him as one of the men on the Vampire Council. Where was Chase?

She approached with caution. But the look of concern on his face, and the smell of blood—Chase’s blood—had her stomach knotting.

“Hello, again,” the blond vampire said. “I’m Kirk. I met you when—”

“I know who you are.” Della recalled how small the council had made her feel. Her gaze cut to the car; no one else was in it. “Where’s Chase?” She felt her eyes brighten.

“Relax. I’m not here for trouble. Chase is reclined in the backseat.”

Della started to the car as her questions started forming. How had Chase ended up with this man? Had Chase been lying about going to a prison? Had he even quit the council?

“I wanted to take him to a doctor but he refused. Said you would take care of him.”

Her questions stopped with his words. Take care of him? She was so not a nurse.

“He needs blood quick. He said he had plenty at his cabin.”

“How bad is he?” she asked, but didn’t wait for his answer. Instead she opened the car door and lifted back the seat to see for herself. The smell of blood hit and hit hard. Her gut tightened.

“It looks serious,” Kirk said.

The words sent sharp pain to her heart. Chase lay there, dead still, his shirt covered in deep red stains. His eyes were closed. Was he even conscious? Could he be…?

She didn’t breathe until she saw his chest move to take in air.

“What happened?” She looked back over her shoulder at Kirk.

“Just a little trouble,” Chase said before Kirk answered.

Della swung her head back around and saw his lids flutter open.

“And it’s not that serious.” He shifted.

“Do you need a doctor?” she asked.

“I would feel better if he allowed me to take him to one,” Kirk spoke up. “I can get him there in less than five minutes.”

“No.” Chase’s tone was so adamant that it seemed to mean something.

Della looked at the blood on his shirt and worried how bad the injury was. Sure, vampires healed, but if something was really damaged, they could still die. “But if you need—”

“No.” Chase’s eyes met hers as if trying to tell her something, but damn it, mind-reading wasn’t her specialty.

Chase pushed against the seat to sit up. “All I need is some blood and the ointment.” He slumped back down in the seat. “And maybe a little help getting out of the car.”