Unspoken: Shadow Falls: After Dark (16 page)

He suddenly cleared the woods and could see the light on in his cabin. He hadn’t turned a light on. Someone had been there. Or was there.

Shooting forward, he caught her scent, still mixed with her blood. Then he heard her say, “I’m gonna kill you. I am.”

Who was she going to kill? Not that she had to; he’d do it for her. Too panicked to check for another scent, he bolted up the stairs and swung open his door, ready to defend her.

She swung around. She had on a bloody white tank top and a pair of pajama bottoms. Baxter sat in front of her.

“What happened?” he asked, his heart thumping against his rib cage.

“You happened,” she seethed.

He stood there, the roaring panic that had tightened his muscles slowly fading. “Me?”

“Yes, you let Buster loose. And he ends up at my cabin.”

Chase hadn’t let the dog out, but … He blinked and again noted the blood on her white tank top. Then he glanced at Baxter sitting at Della’s feet, his tail slowly swishing back and forth, his head hanging a little low. Definitely his guilty pose.

Was she saying…?
“Baxter would never hurt you.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me, but a cat is another question.”

Chase shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t hurt a cat. He loves cats. Eddie had one and they were best buddies. He used to pick it up and carry it around in his mouth.”

“Well, I guess Socks isn’t fond of a canine set of chops coming at her, even if it is for a joy ride.”

“Shit. What happened?”

“Baxter showed up at my cabin. I forgot about Socks and I let him in. I went to get my pajamas on and hell broke loose. Baxter had Socks cornered. Socks ran. Baxter chased. They ransacked the cabin. And before I caught the cat, the cat caught me. She clawed her way up me to get away from your dog.”

Chase frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Okay?” She pointed to her shirt. “I was used as a climbing post.”

“Bad Baxter,” Chase said.

“No!” Della seethed.

“You’re right,” Chase said. “It was the cat who did it.”

“No! You’re the one who didn’t put your dog up.”

“I did put him up.” Chase inhaled and realized the stench of paint was stronger. “I bet the painters came and let him out.”

“Oh, yeah, blame it on the painters!” she snarled.

“I’m not.” He bit back his laughter. Even covered in blood, she looked adorable in her pajamas. The white tank, with the word “princess” written across it in pink, hugged her chest and showcased her breasts perfectly. It also fit against her waist. And her white bottoms had little pink crowns printed on them. They were a little big, and hung just low enough to expose a little flat belly. She looked sexy as hell.

He walked closer, pushing back the sexy thoughts, because now wasn’t the time, and concentrated on the blood. “Have you cleaned the wounds?”

“No, I had to get him out of the cabin. And because I care more about him than his owner does, I wasn’t going to just let him run loose. There are wolves out there.”

“I’m sorry. Let me help you clean the wounds.”

“No. I’m going home. I’ll do it there.”

“Wait,” he said. “Let me at least give you some ointment.”

“I’ve got some.” She walked past him.

“This is better. It’s especially for vampires.” He darted over to his backpack and pulled a tube out. He walked over to hand it to her. She smelled so damn good, as if she’d just showered. Shampoo and feminine soap. When his fingers brushed her hand, his heart hiccupped and he could swear he saw her pupils grow bigger.

“Your uncle came up with it.” He had to force his eyes away from her breasts, where he could almost make out her nipples.

She frowned, but took it. “Were you able to describe the face from my vision?”

“Yeah, the artist did a good job. They ran it through their database, but didn’t get anything.”

He ached to run his hand across her cheek. She looked so … touchable.

“So we still have nothing.”

“We’ll get them,” he said. “We still need to go over the vision. See if we can remember anything different that could help us.”

“Then let’s do it.” The fact that she agreed so quickly sent a tiny wiggle of pleasure to his chest. He’d love to stay here and enjoy … what he could almost make out under her shirt.

“I can’t. I have to be somewhere, but I could come by your cabin when I get back. It might be late. Or we could do it tomorrow evening. I’m pretty sure Burnett has me working tomorrow morning.”

She stood there staring at him as if trying to read him. “You’re going somewhere?”

He nodded.

“Is it about the case?”

He nodded again.

“My dad’s case?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let me change my clothes and I’ll come with you.”

He shook his head. “No.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“Because you can’t.”

Doubt filled her dark eyes. “Is Burnett going?”

“No. I have to do this one on my own.”

“Do what on your own?” she asked, tilting her head to the left. Her right hand came to rest on her hip. Chase wondered if she knew how cute she looked doing that. Like a kitten trying to act tough. Someday when he knew her claws had been clipped, and he wasn’t quite so afraid of her, he’d tell her that.

“Where are you going?” she snapped.

“Burnett mentioned something earlier. He said the best place to get information about lowlifes like Douglas Stone would be from other lowlifes. I called in a favor from a friend. A guard at one of the council’s prisons. He’s letting me in to ask questions. I was going last night but didn’t make it. And I didn’t mention it to Burnett because … there’s no way they’d let him in.”

“So you’re hiding something.”

Chase frowned. “From Burnett, not you. And if I get anything I’ll tell him. I just … I’m afraid he wouldn’t allow me to go. I’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission.”

“Why wouldn’t he let you go?”

Chase pulled his phone out and checked the time. He had three minutes before he had to leave or he’d be late. “The inmates aren’t the best hostesses. Normally when someone goes in, they go with several guards. Because I’m not really working for the council anymore, he’s going to let me sneak in, so it will just be me.”

“Then take me,” she said.

He shook his head. “He wouldn’t let you in either.” Not to mention Chase wouldn’t let her near that place. These were the worst of the worst lowlifes.

“Then don’t go.”

Her stubborn expression made him smile. “Careful, Miss Sass, you almost sound like you care.”

She scowled. “Don’t make more out of it than it is.”

He walked over to the kitchen and filled a bowl of dry dog food for Baxter. He felt her eyes on him and loved knowing he had her attention. She always had his whenever he was within a hundred feet of her.

She took a step closer. “Do you even know if someone there has information about this Stone guy?”

“No. That’s why I’m going.”

She stepped closer. Was that really worry in her eyes? Yup, it was. He’d kiss her if he thought he could get away with it. Problem was, he wanted to do so much more than kiss. He wanted to run his hand over that little splash of sweet skin low on her abdomen. He wanted to take that top off of her and …

“Why would they tell you anything?” She tugged down her shirt as if she sensed it distracted him.

But it was such a sweet distraction. “Because they don’t have anything to lose. Because they might think it’ll offer them some salvation. It’s a long shot, but I have to do it. We want to catch this guy, remember?”

“Yes, but…”

Baxter brushed against his leg. Chase knelt down. As he gave the dog a good rub behind the ears, he pressed his forehead against the dog’s snout. And damned if he didn’t catch a different scent.

Disappointment tightened his gut. He stood up. All he could think about was where on Della’s sweet body the shape-shifter had touched. His head said to ignore what he knew and leave. His heart didn’t listen. “Can you do something for me?”

“Go with you? Yes.” She tilted her chin up.

“No. It’s a lot easier than that,” he said between tight lips. “While I’m off risking my life to try to get your dad off of a murder charge, don’t hang around Steve.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but he didn’t stay around to hear it.

*   *   *

Della stormed back to her cabin, wearing her bloody pajamas, and madder than a trapped raccoon. She’d already texted Chase and asked him to change his mind.

When she swung open and slammed the door, Miranda let out a loud yelp that could’ve woken the dead. And considering the dead seemed to hang out around here, that wasn’t an exaggeration.

“She’s here!” the witch screamed into her phone. “But—oh, God! She has blood all over her. And I still feel it.”

Feel what?
“I’m fine,” Della snapped.

But too late. The door behind her swung open and Kylie ran inside. Whenever the chameleon was in protective mode, she lit up like one of those glow sticks that was losing its power.

“What happened?” She still held her phone to her ear.

“Nothing.”

Kylie dropped her phone from her ear, pointed to Della’s bloody tank top, and waved her finger around the disaster of their cabin. “Try again.”

“Okay. Nothing much.”

Both girls came closer and were looking at Della’s bloody shirt. “See?” she flashed them. Boobs and all. Not that there was a lot to flash.

“It was just a few scratches and they’re all healed now.” She started to go to her bedroom, but both Kylie and Miranda barricaded her door.

Miranda held up a bag of something that looked like weed, did some kind of dance move, and sprinkled some of the green crap on Della’s head.

“What is that?” Della asked.

“Herbs to chase away the unwanted. We got company.” Miranda tossed another handful of the dried plant life into the air.

“Who?” Della snapped the one word question.

“You first, Della. What happened?” Kylie countered, no longer glowing, but still with that pissed-off-chameleon look about her.

Problem was, Della was still so pissed off at Chase she didn’t have the patience to deal with anyone else’s pissy mood. And she sure as hell didn’t appreciate having green shit tossed on her by a witch who wasn’t making a lick of sense.

She took a step closer to her bedroom, and her two roommates didn’t budge. “Okay, here’s the short version. Chase’s dog came over and your cat wasn’t in the mood for company.”

“Is Socks okay?” Kylie’s eyes widened and she swung around calling out, “Here, kitty, kitty.”

“She’s fine. See.” The cat came strutting its stuff out from behind the sofa. With all eyes on the prancing cat, Della tried to make it to her room.

“Not so fast, vamp!” Kylie caught Della by the arm and looked at Miranda. “Get the Diet Cokes out. It’s time we had a talk.”

Chapter Nineteen

Kylie led Della to the table, then pointed to the chair. Della dropped down and set her phone in clear view.

Normally, Della didn’t mind the Diet Coke round-table discussions. She’d learned that sharing helped a little. And commiserating over her two best friends’ problems reminded her that everyone’s life sucked too. Fate wasn’t just picking on her. It was an equal-opportunity abuser.

But right now on top of feeling as if she were drowning in her problems, she was pissed. And … worried sick over the pisser. She should have followed him, but no, his little don’t-hang-out-with-Steve bit had left her shocked. Who did he think he was, telling her who she could hang out with?

Still, she worried. Not by choice. Damn bond! She cut her phone a quick glance.

The temptation struck to call Burnett and tell him what Chase was doing. The only thing that stopped her was knowing that if he did that to her, she’d raise holy hell. But if Chase lived through this, she might just have to kill him. That’d teach him to take stupid risks, wouldn’t it?

“Who’s going first?” Kylie pulled the tab of her soda, sending a fizzy noise into the room.

“Let the witch,” Della said. “I’m curious to why she’s tossing dried herbs and doing the hokey pokey.”

Miranda rolled her eyes. “You should be thanking me, not poking fun at me.”

“I wasn’t poking, just calling it like I saw it.”

“No arguing at the round-table talks,” Kylie insisted.

Miranda opened her drink.

The fizzy sound actually brought a sense of calm to Della’s nerves.

But obviously not for Miranda, who glared at Della. “You scared the pee out of me,” the witch bellowed out. “Since I got back this afternoon, I’ve been feeling an invader. And then I find—”

“Find what?” Della asked.

“An invader.”

“Like a spirit?” Della asked. “Because, you know, between Miss Ghost Whisperer here,” she nodded at Kylie, “and now me,” she frowned, “there might be a few hanging around.” She looked up at the ceiling. “Just not five.”

“Not ghosts,” Miranda said. “Just a strong intuition that something—or someone—is spying on us. Like when I felt that Mario creep here trying to kill Kylie.”

“Have you told Burnett?” Della gave her phone another quick check.

“No, I … want to make sure I’m right before I get him all worked up. You know what he’s like when he gets … worked up.” Miranda frowned. “Plus, I could be wrong.”

Della popped open her own soda. The sound tickled her ears and created a bit more calm. “Have you had these feelings before and were wrong?”

“Of course.” Miranda pulled the soda up for a sip.

“How many times?” Della asked, wanting to calculate the odds that something really existed, or if Miranda was just a paranoid twit.

“I don’t know exactly.”

“Estimate,” Della snapped.

“Ten maybe.”

“Two out of twelve.”
Paranoid twit.
“Good to know. Let’s move on.” Della glanced back at Miranda. “So what other issues do you have?”

“It feels real,” Miranda insisted.

“We’ll all stay on guard.” Kylie looked at Miranda, and then added, “So how was your weekend?”

“I hate going first,” the witch whined.

“Fine, I’ll go.” Kylie leaned in a bit. “My mom is dating a new guy. He’s five years younger than her. Which means he’s only fifteen years older than me. It feels weird. And get this, she met him at the grocery store. What kind of guys really go to the grocery store to pick up chicks?”