Unspoken: Shadow Falls: After Dark (21 page)

Little did she know how much he loved touching it. Not that there weren’t other parts he longed to touch. Still, the dark strands were soft, a lot softer than his hair, and always smelled like … like a girl’s hair should smell. A cross between a fruit and a flower.

He fought the need to run his fingers through the long dark strands, knowing that when she woke up this closeness would end. She’d pull back.

Della always pulled back. He just kept telling himself that the day would come when she wouldn’t. When touching her wouldn’t be risky. When she would touch him back.

He studied her lips—so pink, with the perfect shape. He wanted to press his mouth against hers. To taste her. He wanted … His gaze lowered to the scoop of her tank top, where the soft swells of flesh pressed against the cotton fabric. He recalled how she’d looked in just her panties and bra when he’d gone to her cabin the other night.

For that matter, he’d seen her naked when she’d been sick, in the beginning of her second turn. Mentally, he’d tattooed that vision to his mind, where he visited it often.

What he wouldn’t give to take her clothes off—every stitch of material—then to remove his own and feel her against him, skin to skin.

The feeling of rightness shot to his chest and then whispered lower, where his body hardened from all his wanting. Closing his eyes, staring at the blackness in his mind, he willed the primal urges to lessen. The last thing he wanted to do was to come off like a pervert. She didn’t deserve that.

He felt her stir, heard her breathing increase. Was she … He opened his eyes.

She stared at him, her lids still heavy, sleepy and sexy. He expected her to jackknife up, to put more space between them.

She didn’t.

“You’re awake.” She smiled. Damn, but she was beautiful when she smiled.

“You slept with me.” He reached to touch her.

That’s when she did it. She pulled back. But at least she didn’t leave his bed. She pushed up on her elbow.

A slight frown pulled at her forehead. “You begged me not to go.”

He grinned. “So that’s all it takes to get you in my bed? Begging? I would have done that months ago.”

She shot up, but he noted her expression didn’t get as distant as it usually did when she pulled away. “You need to drink blood.”

As she walked out, he watched her. “A morning kiss would be nice,” he called out and petted Baxter, who shifted closer.

She turned around and frowned. “I don’t want to shit in your Cheerios, bucko. But you almost died last night.”

He chuckled, then searched his mind for what else he could remember. He recalled insisting that Kirk bring him here … to her. And like he knew she would, she’d taken care of him. More proof that she cared. That the wall she’d built up between them was slowly crumbling.

“You saved me,” he said.

“No, I don’t like you that much,” she said. “Steve and Dr. Whitman did that.” She walked out.

He tossed the sheet off to get up. He saw that he was wearing only his underwear. Had she…? A smile pulled at his lips thinking about Della undressing him and their earlier conversation about underwear.

He stood up. His knees gave, but he caught himself.

She walked back in, ignoring his lack of clothes, and handed him a bottle of blood. When her fingers brushed against his, a sweet bolt of attraction hit, tingled down his arm, and went straight to his heart.

Something about her being here, waking up with him, and even him being just in his underwear made the moment feel right. It would have felt righter if she were partially unclothed—or completely naked—but he’d take what he could get.

He reached for her. She stepped back.

“Get back in bed and drink your blood.” She took the bottle, unscrewed it, and then put it back in his hands. “The doctor said he would be here this morning to check on you.”

“I’m fine.” He turned to the dresser to grab his jeans.

She shot between him and the piece of furniture. “Bed!”

The move had her so close again, he could smell her hair, or her shampoo, he didn’t care which it was. All he knew was that he really liked it.

“If you come with me.” He wiggled his brows at her.

She growled. Her eyes brightened, her mouth pursed into a beautiful bow, and her shoulder arched back, emphasizing her small breasts. They may be small, but they were beautiful. The image of her naked flashed in his mind again.

He grinned. “You would never get angry around me if you knew how sexy you look when you’re mad.”

Her frown tightened. “Would you quit making light of this? You almost died, Chase. First from blood loss and then an infection. And for the record, if I never have to see the insides of your gut again, I’ll be okay with it.”

“I’m not trying…” Chase paused and looked at her. “Does Burnett know?”

“I had to tell him,” Della said. “Douglas Stone sent someone to spy on you. And he snuck through the alarm.”

“What? Wait. Did they catch him?”

“Yes.”

“And?” Chase asked.

“And he’s Perry’s long-lost cousin, and the last news I got, he still wasn’t talking. Burnett’s taken him to the FRU headquarters.”

Chase reached around her and snagged his jeans. “Then let’s go make him talk.” He sighed. “Before I got ripped to shreds at the prison last night, I found out that Stone knows we’re on to him, and it sounds like he’s being protected. I need to find out what the Vampire Council knows.”

Chapter Twenty-four

“Is that why you didn’t trust the guy who dropped you off last night?” Della asked.

Chase frowned. “That was Kirk.”

“But you didn’t trust him. I saw it in how you treated him.”

Pain flashed in Chase’s eyes. The emotional kind of pain that she knew so much about lately. “He’s been like an uncle to me. He practically helped Eddie finish raising me.”

“He could still be hiding something,” she insisted.

“Like I said, I need to find out what they know about Stone.”

“You aren’t going anywhere now.” Della pulled his jeans out of his hands and paused when she heard footsteps on the front porch. One deep breath and she knew who it was. Holiday walked into the cabin.

“Look at me,” Chase snapped. “Do I not look fine?”

The fact that he didn’t know Holiday was there told her he wasn’t fine. “Get back in bed.”

Holiday walked into the bedroom. Something about her expression gave Della a feeling of alarm.

“I don’t care how fine you look…” Holiday paused. Her gaze widened, no doubt taking in his lack of clothes. “Do as Della says. Get in bed.”

Shorter than Della, and probably weighing less than a hundred pounds soaking wet, Holiday didn’t have an iron fist, but she should have. When the red-headed fae spoke, people listened.

Chase started backing up and dropped onto the bed. Then, as if realizing what Holiday said, he snatched up the sheet and threw it over him. His face brightened.

The fact that he hadn’t been self-conscious about being in his underwear with Della meant something. But it was just another thing she didn’t have time to contemplate right now.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered.

“Ridiculous is you almost getting yourself killed. But I’ll let my husband take that up with you. I’m here to check on you and give Della this.”

She held up a large manila envelope.

“The DA’s file on my dad,” Della said, guessing, and hoping.

Holiday nodded. “It was dropped off thirty minutes ago. I made Burnett a copy. He’ll look at it when he gets back. I would have waited to give it to you, but she seemed pretty adamant you get it now.”

“She?” Della asked.

“Your aunt,” Holiday frowned. “Obviously, there’s something in here she wants you to see. And she’s not patient. She knocked over my bookcase when I didn’t immediately do as she said.”

Della took the envelope.

Holiday continued, “Normally, a spirit attaches themselves to only one person because of limited energy. Your aunt is probably the strongest ghost I’ve seen. Plus she’s angry and confused, which concerns me.”

Della inhaled. “She’s never hurt me.”

“Yet,” Holiday said. “I’m not saying she’d do it on purpose, but when a spirit gets that much power, they don’t know how to use it, or when they’re crossing the line.” She sighed. “It’s extreme, but there is an exorcism that we could try.”

“An exorcism?” Della remembered the visions she’d had these last few months. The things she learned about her aunt—how Bao Yu had been forced to give up her illegitimate child, how she’d lost her boyfriend because of it, and how at only nineteen she’d been brutally murdered.

Della had no idea what would happen to Bao Yu if she was exorcised, but hadn’t she had enough done to her? Her aunt might be confused about who’d killed her, but the reason she’d hung on to this life was to deal with all those things that had been forced on her. To find the answers she needed. Who was Della to take that away?

“No.” Della clung to the envelope.

“Wait,” Chase spoke up. “If she’s dangerous, maybe—”

“No. You even told me that she was responsible for saving you last night.”

“Yeah, but like Holiday said, she might not mean to do something wrong. She might—”

“No.” Della looked at Holiday. “It’s not happening!”

*   *   *

Holiday left, but Chase wasn’t going to drop the issue with her aunt. “I’m worried something could happen to you,” he insisted.

“Then stop. I’m not yours to worry about,” she insisted right back.

“Like I’m not yours? Right?” He let out a low growl. “Then what are you doing here, Della? Why did you stay the night?”

“Don’t make more out of it than it is,” she told him, then told herself the same thing.

Frowning, he slumped back on his pillows and closed his eyes. She didn’t know if he was drowsy from the healing process, or if he was thinking.

She hugged the file to her stomach and considered leaving. She needed to read the file. Her gaze shifted to the door.

Chase’s voice stopped her from leaving. “This guy, Perry’s cousin, who showed up. He didn’t hurt anyone, did he?”

“No. And I don’t think he could. He’s only half shape-shifter.”

Chase nodded. His eyes met hers. “Are we going to read the file?”

We? The word caught in her head. She tightened her hold on the envelope.

She almost left then, but realized that they both had a reason to want to solve Bao Yu’s murder. Chase to get Eddie off, and her to get her father off. It was the first time she realized she truly believed it. Believed her uncle hadn’t killed her aunt. Had it been Perry’s cousin showing up and his connection to Stone that convinced her, or was it that she just wanted to believe Chase now?

Oh, hell, it didn’t matter why. And just because she believed it didn’t mean she had forgiven her father’s brother. If he was any kind of man at all, he would have come forward to help.

“Sit down and let’s read it.” Chase motioned to the chair. Della sat and started reading. She heard him stand up.

He didn’t say anything, but she could feel his eyes on her. His words replayed in her head.
I’m worried something could happen to you
.

She could feel his concern for her. She wasn’t ready to accept that he had the right to be concerned. And yet she understood how he felt, since she’d been worried sick about him for the last twelve hours.

She’d even climbed in the damn bed with him, so she could hear him breathe, afraid he would stop.

But now that she knew he wasn’t dying, she wanted to deny those feelings.

Hadn’t her plan been to push him away?

Not everyone ends up together. You still have a choice.
His words echoed in her head, and they felt less true than when he had said them.

“Stop,” she finally muttered, and looked up.

“What?” he asked.

“Staring at me. I can’t read.”

His green eyes tightened into a frown. “Then can I see what you’ve read so far?” He held out his hand.

She started back reading. The first few pages didn’t offer anything new. Times, dates, what officer arrived at the scene. She passed Chase the page as soon as she finished. Then she came to the script of the 911 call.

Her heart stopped. She looked up. “My dad is the one who called 911,” she said. “He wasn’t unconscious the whole time.”

Chase stared at her, his eyes round with concern and maybe even fear. Only then did she feel the room’s temperature.

Only then did she realize he wasn’t looking at her.

She looked over her shoulder, and there behind her, a knife jutting out of her chest, was Bao Yu.

“Do you see,” the ghost said, tears running from her eyes. Reaching up, she pulled the knife out. Blood gushed from the wound.

She used the knife to point to the papers in Della’s hand.

Do you see? He wasn’t unconscious. He did this! He killed me!

“No,” Chase said. “Douglas Stone did it.”

Her aunt looked up at Chase. Fury rose in her eyes. She slung the knife. It sank into the mattress, right between Chase’s legs.

Della was pretty certain that the knife, a part of the vision, wasn’t real. It hadn’t been a real threat to Chase or his boys.

But judging by his pale expression, Chase didn’t see it that way.

Chapter Twenty-five

Where the hell was Burnett? Chase had even tried calling him, but he didn’t answer.

Della had left after they’d argued about letting Holiday attempt to get rid of the ghost.

An hour later, dressed, bored, and furious that he’d been put in timeout, he dropped back on the bed and tried to lower his blood pressure by petting Baxter. The dog rested at his side on the bed reveling in the attention.

When Baxter fell asleep, Chase got up. Still sitting on the sofa were the papers Burnett had brought about the FRU. Needing something to bide his time, he opened and read the contract and list of FRU rules. Rule number twenty-six, the one about every agent being self-motivated and responsible for deciding which risks to take was especially interesting, and one Chase stored away for his defense when Burnett decided to come and chew his ass out.

Looking at his cell for the hundredth time, he growled. Someone needed to go find Douglas Stone. Someone needed to find out what the council knew.