Unspoken: Shadow Falls: After Dark (42 page)

“I … I need you to help me plan my death.”

Holiday’s eyes widened. “Anything but that.”

“That’s not acceptable.” Della frowned. Click. Click. Click.

“But Della—”

“You gave me your word that if I tried it your way—that if I attempted to stay connected with my family and it didn’t work, you’d help me fake my own death.” She put her finger back on the tip of the pen. “You even helped Jonathon.”

Click!

“Jonathon’s home life was dysfunctional.”

“And mine’s not? My father thinks I could slice and dice a sweet ol’ neighbor and her husband.” She gripped the pen so tight that she thought she heard the thin plastic crack.

“What about your mother, Della? And your sister. You love them.”

Della felt a lump form in her throat. “Why the hell do you think I’m doing this?” Click. Click. Click. “They’ll be better off without me. If I’d done this when I first came here, none of this would have happened. My dad wouldn’t be on trial for murder.”

“But, right now—”

“I don’t mean right, right now. After the trial. But right after it.” She tossed the pen back on Holiday’s oak desk. It bounced once, rolled off the desk, and fell apart in about four different pieces.

Della got up and walked out.

*   *   *

Della went for a run and was almost back to her cabin when her phone rang. Her heart hurt, her head hurt. There wasn’t anyone she wanted to talk to. They’d just try to talk her out of dying. And the truth was she felt like she was already dying inside.

She let it ring. It stopped. She waited to hear if they’d leave a message. It didn’t ding.

For a reason she didn’t even understand, she checked to see who she’d ignored. Her heart hoped it was Chase. Not Chase. Her breath caught.

What about your mother, Della? And your sister. You love them.
Holiday’s words echoed in her head.

She hadn’t expected it to be her mom.

Was something wrong?

Oh, hell, she hit redial. Her mom answered.

“Della,” her mom’s voice shook, tears sounded in her voice.

“What’s wrong?” Della’s grip on the phone tightened right along with her heart.

“You need to come help me talk some sense into your dad.”

Della talk sense into her father? He hadn’t even spoken to her in months.

“What’s wrong?”

“He just … he fired his lawyer, and said he’s going to the police station to confess to the murder.”

“What?” Della asked.

“You heard me.”

“He didn’t do it, Mom. He just pulled the knife out.”

“What?” Her mom sounded confused.
Oh, hell!

“I’m on my way. Do not let him go to the police station. I don’t care if you have to hit him over the head and sit on him. Do not let him go!”

Della started to take flight, but the day was too bright. Shit! Shit! Shit! She flew back to the office and ran inside.

“Holiday, I need—”

She wasn’t there. Della pulled her phone out and dialed Holiday’s number. A phone rang on Holiday’s desk. The camp leader must have forgotten it.

Della’s gaze fell to the car keys in the wooden box on the desk.

Her hesitation lasted one second. She snagged them up, and wrote a quick note.
Trouble at home.
She left.

*   *   *

Adrenaline flowed through Chase’s veins as Burnett slowly drove by the two-story house. The structure looked like a tired white elephant. The brick had been painted white and the roof on the garage sagged. The yard looked overgrown.

Three cars were parked in front of the house and some hard rock music pulsed through the air. In the distance, some thunder seemed to play the same tune.

“Someone’s home,” Chase said.

“Yeah.” Burnett parked on the opposite side of the street.

“Front or back?” Chase asked.

“Not so fast.” Burnett dipped his head down and eyed the house. “There could be a dozen of them in there.”

“Let me take a stroll and I’ll tell you what I hear and smell.”

“You get closer and if Stone—or a full were—is in there, they’ll catch your scent.”

“Then let’s just storm the place. I think we can handle them.”

Burnett frowned. “I think you could have died last night if you hadn’t heard the crack of the shotgun. If they had guns, these guys could be toting too.”

“So, what? You calling for backup?” Chase asked.

Burnett’s frown deepened and he stared again at the house, as if considering it. “If Stone’s in there, it would be easier if we didn’t have company.”

He pointed to the back of the van. “There’s a briefcase in the back. Pull it up here and grab those two vests in that seat.”

Chase dropped the case and one of the vests beside Burnett.

“That thing weights a ton. It’ll slow me down.”

“It’ll slow down a bullet, too.”

Burnett slipped the vest on over his suit. Chase tried, but the dang thing was too tight.

“It’s too small,” Chase said.

“Take your coat and shirt off,” Burnett said.

Frustrated, Chase did it. Then he slipped his black jacket back on.

Burnett looked around. “Lucky for us, it doesn’t appear that any neighbors are home.”

He opened the briefcase. In it were two strange-looking guns that looked like they’d come out of a sci-fi flick.

“Tranquilizers?” Chase asked.

Burnett nodded. “Six-shooters, too. All you have to do is aim and pull the trigger.”

“Easy enough.”

Burnett nodded. “Important to remember—”

“Shoot them before they shoot you,” Chase said.

“I was going to say, hit upper torso so it will work faster, but your point’s good too.”

They got out and started across the street.

Burnett spoke again as they stepped onto the front lawn. A mist of rain fell. “The drug in our bullets takes about five seconds to take effect. It only takes one for them to pull a trigger. So it’s not a fair fight if they have real guns.”

Chase nodded.

“You take the back this time.” Chase started to the back. “Careful,” Burnett whispered.

“It’s my middle name.”

*   *   *

Della parked in the driveway. Had she gotten here in time? Jumping out of the car, she got a scent of blood. She looked over her shoulder, almost certain the smell came from across the street. But it scared her nevertheless.

She rushed inside. “Mom?” she screamed.

The sound of a door slamming filled the oddly disturbing silence. She moved toward the kitchen, thinking she might find her mom there. But she never got past the entryway.

“Oh, goodie,” a male voice said, coming from the dining room.

Della took a noseful of air to see what she was up against. But her mom must have cooked spaghetti because all she smelled was the nauseating odor of garlic. She swung around. A quick check of the intruder’s forehead showed he was half were.

She could take him.

Still, heart pounding, fear triggering her inner vamp to come out to serve and protect, she tilted her head to the right, hoping to decipher if anyone else was here.

The sound of heavy breathing came from the den toward the back of the house.

“We have the whole family here now,” the were called out.

In one hand he held a baseball bat; in the other, he held a framed photo—a family portrait of them posing in the park taken right before Della had turned.

Fury rose in her chest. She loved that picture. “Put that down!”

“What? This?” He held up the frame. “Or this?” He held up the bat.

“Actually, both,” she seethed.

He took a swing. Della caught the bat and spotted a touch of fear in his eyes. For good reason. But oddly, he didn’t think to check her pattern. His mistake.

Hit again by the smell of blood, she instantly became aware of the thick slickness on the bat. Her heart gripped.

Who had the dirty rogue already hit?

Chapter Forty-eight

Chase moved along the side of the house, ducking down below windows, to get to the back. Misty rain thickened the air. The music played so loud, he could feel the ground below his feet vibrate. He hoped he could hear when Burnett pounded on the front door.

Inhaling, Chase caught were scents, weak ones, like half breeds—five, or maybe six. But no vampire trace reached his nose. He only hoped that Stone was somewhere upstairs and his scent simply didn’t reach.

He heard voices behind the music. The loud bass prevented him from deciphering what they said, but he knew one of them was female. Was she part of the gang?

Chase emotionally flinched. He hated fighting girls.

He continued to the back and jumped over the gate to the yard, making his way to the back patio. In the distance, he heard more thunder. A storm brewed. He looked up and saw the dark clouds rolling in. The smell of real rain scented the air.

Right when he spotted the back door, he heard the hammering of Burnett’s knock. He ducked behind a rosebush and held out his tranquilizer gun.

Footsteps came rushing toward him.

“That’s right,” he muttered quietly. “Come on out.”

The door swung open. Three figures appeared. Two guys. One woman. One guy held a pistol. Chase hit him with a tranquilizer first.

The guy stopped, looked down as if he couldn’t believe something had hit him.

The girl slowed down; the other guy booked it to the fence.

Chase booked it right behind him. He caught the guy by the feet and yanked him back. He hit the ground. Hard.

But obviously not hard enough.

The were bolted up and took a swing. Chase beat him to the punch … literally.

The guy dropped.

Hearing yells from inside the house, Chase swung back around to take care of the girl and check on Burnett.

The girl was hunched down beside the tranquilized were.

“Stop right there.” Chase ran over. “I don’t like hurting girls, but—”

“Please don’t hurt me,” she begged in a soft voice.

“I won’t. Just don’t move,” he ordered.

She moved.

She shot up. Chase’s reaction came a fraction of a second too late. He spotted the gun in her hand. Almost like slow motion, he saw her finger twitch, and saw the gun go off.

*   *   *

Della, poised to remove the bat from the were, stopped when she heard another stranger’s voice from the den.

“Bring her in here.”

Marla’s squeal and her mom’s and dad’s gasps filled Della’s ears and banged into her heart.

Swallowing, she dropped her hold on the bat, wiped the blood from it on her jeans, and turned around.

The were used the bat to push her forward.

Her mom and dad were on the sofa, and another half were stood beside them holding a gun pointing in their direction. Her mom’s skin lacked color. Her blue eyes were wide, and Della saw the handprint on her face. Somebody had hit her. Her stomach knotted.

Her dad had blood oozing from his lip, and his eye was swollen, evidence he’d tried to fight. Was that his blood she’d wiped on her jeans?

The sandy-haired vamp, or at least mostly vamp, stood by the big bay window. Stone.

The murdering lowlife had Marla’s arm. No doubt, his firm grip would leave bruises. Her sister had tears running down her face and kept her head turned away from Stone.

Only then did Della notice that the man’s eyes glowed, and he’d let his canines come out to play. He obviously enjoyed scaring people. And he was succeeding.

“Let her go,” Della told Stone.

Marla let out another cry.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she told her sister, but didn’t take her eyes off Stone, all the while fighting to keep her canines in and her eyes from brightening.

“Of course it is. Big sister is gonna save the day.” Stone laughed, the sound heavy. Evil. Della’s heart thumped against her breast bone.

“I love spunk,” Stone said.

“But you only get one of them. I get the other?” said the were holding the gun on her parents.

Her father shot up.

“Down!” The were put the gun to her mother’s head. “Or I’ll blow her head all over the house.”

Her father dropped down and Della saw the raw torture in his eyes.

He’d seen what had happened to his sister. Now it was happening to his own family.

Her mind raced. Her gaze shot around quickly and she decided that getting the gun was the first order of business.

But then she saw the were’s finger on the trigger. Was she fast enough to rip it out of his hands before …

*   *   *

The impact of the bullet knocked Chase flat on his back. And every bit of air in his lungs gushed out.

Had the vest stopped the bullet? Probably, but he still couldn’t breathe.

“That’s what you get for being a puss where girls are concerned.” The girl darted for the fence, thinking he was dead, or close.

Now pissed, he felt more alive. He rolled over and aimed his gun. She’d just pulled up on the fence. The dart got her right in the ass.

She stopped, her legs dangled, then she slid back. She remained upright, leaning on her good butt cheek, swaying as if fighting the drug.

One hand on his chest, Chase jackknifed up, yanked the gun out of her hand. “I’m not a puss!”

She fell back, unconscious.

Bumps and clanks sounded from the house. Still fighting for air, he took off inside.

Burnett swung around; his eyes glowed and his fangs were all the way out. Blood dripped from his arm and Chase saw a bloody knife beside the unconscious guy with a tranquilizer dart in his throat.

Two other guys lay out cold on the wood floor.

“You okay?” Burnett asked, the brightness in his eyes fading.

“You’re not?” Chase said.

“Just a cut.”

“I’ll check upstairs.” Chase took the stairs three at a time. His nose told him no one was there. But damn, he wanted Stone.

He checked every room.

When he got back down the three guys inside were wearing FRU cuffs, and Burnett was outside restraining the other three.

“No Stone,” Chase snapped when he walked out.

“Help me get these guys inside,” Burnett ordered. “We’ve got another problem.”

“What now?”

“Della left the school forty minutes ago. I called to warn Shawn that she might show up. He’s not answering. I got agents coming to pick these guys up.”