Unspoken (Shadow Falls: After Dark #3)(116)

“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.