Unspoken (Shadow Falls: After Dark #3)(13)

A new wave of hurt filled her chest. “Yeah.” She offered one quick word, then lifted the nozzle and drank. The sweet berry fluid of O negative spilled on her tongue and she had to remind herself to slow down and savor it. Burnett had sent his good stuff.

“I saw Kylie and Miranda before I left. I told them,” he said. “They’re thrilled. Miranda hasn’t had anyone to fight with since you left.”

“We don’t fight that much.” She dropped into a swing and kicked the ground with the heels of her boots.

“Right.” Lucas chuckled. “They miss you.”

Della latched her hand around the chain. She just sat there, the round plastic rubber of the swing’s bottom hugging her butt, and drank her blood and thought about her two friends.

“Me, too,” Della finally said. Not that she didn’t talk to them—she did, about twice a day. But she still missed them. Missed everything and everyone at Shadow Falls. It was home. So why did the thought of going back hurt so much? The answer bubbled up from the ache in her chest. Because her dad didn’t want his own daughter around.

After taking several more sips, she saw Lucas tilt his head to the side as if listening. Normally, a vampire’s hearing, sight, and strength were stronger than a were’s, except around the time of a full moon. That’s why vampires had to be on higher alert during this time. Still, she angled her own head and listened to see if she picked up on anything.

Sirens. Several of them. She stood up and gulped down the last of her dinner. “Let’s go check it out.” She wasn’t ready to go back to her room and get caught up in the hurt again.

They tossed the Thermos in Lucas’s car. By the time they’d exited the woods, three cop cars, with sirens and lights flashing, were in the parking lot of a strip mall about a block from the entrance to Della’s subdivision. In it were the Chis’ small jewelry store, an all-night convenience store, and a pizza joint. Had someone tried to walk out without paying for a six-pack?

Lucas stopped before moving closer to the crowd and his expression tightened. Della, still fighting the cold, lifted her face and caught the scent of what had brought on his frown. Blood. Lots of blood as well as traces of … “Weres,” Della said aloud. Though the scent was weak.

She recalled seeing the three weres walking down the street earlier. In her mind’s eye, she could picture all three of their faces, too.

“We should call Burnett.” Della shivered again from the cold.

“We don’t know if the weres were involved,” Lucas said, in defense of his whole species.

She couldn’t blame him. He was right. Of all the species inhabiting the earth, humans did more than their share of causing trouble. And shedding blood.

“It was a robbery,” someone said into a phone. An ambulance pulled up and two uniformed guys jumped out of the vehicle.

Looking between a couple standing in front of her, Della expected to see the paramedics running inside the only opened business, a convenience store.

But they passed that door and … “Not the Chis’ store,” Della muttered and slipped her way up closer to the front of the crowd.

Crap! It was the jewelry store. Had someone broken in? But whose blood was it? The Chis closed the shop at seven. By now they were home in bed.

Another cold blast of November air sent goose bumps climbing up Della’s bare arms. She slipped her hand into her jeans pockets to warm her fingers.

All of a sudden Della heard a meow. She looked to her right and much to her relief, Mrs. Chi stood there with Chester, the big orange tabby, in her arms.

“Oh, thank God,” Della said. “What happened, Mrs. Chi? Is Mr. Chi okay?”

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Chi said. “I … I…”

The cat vanished. Poof, her arms were empty. Mrs. Chi gasped right along with Della, and then the woman looked around on the ground. “Chester? Chester?”

From inside the store, Della heard one of the cops say, “The cat’s still alive. Someone get this cat to a vet.” Della suddenly recognized the cold. The kind of cold that came with death—that came with the dead.





Chapter Six

Her chest gripped, and she felt pain behind her rib cage. Goose bumps tripled and chased each other on Della’s skin. She looked at her elderly neighbor, remembering that when she’d been turned and Mrs. Chi had heard she’d been sick, she’d brought Della egg drop soup. Was the woman…?

Mrs. Chi glanced up at Della. “Have you seen my cat?” Then panic entered her dark Asian eyes. “What happened? I brought hamburgers and then…” She faded, turning into nothing more than a smear of wispy fog in the night. Or was that smear the mist in Della’s own eyes?

“No,” Della said. “Talk to me. Who did this to you?”

“Who did what?” Lucas asked, now standing next to her.

Della ignored him and pushed her way through the crowd, wanting nothing more than to prove herself wrong. Right before she went to jump over the yellow tape that an officer had just rolled out, Lucas caught her.

“You can’t go in there.” He leaned in. “Della? What’s going on? You’re acting freaky. Kylie freaky. Ghost freaky.”

Della ignored Lucas and listened to the cops’ dialogue. “How many?” asked one of the paramedics.