Unspoken (Shadow Falls: After Dark #3)(80)

But when she found an email from her sister, it no longer felt like a stress relief. She decided not to read it. Her new, two-worded litany worked well in this instance as well. Not now.

Della put her phone away. She felt Chase studying her. “Don’t,” she said.

“Don’t what?”

“Stare.”

“Sorry, I just wanted to say … thanks.”

“For what?”

“Last night. The morgue thing.”

Her heart got tripped on the memory.

“I still think Eddie should be shot for taking you there.”

Silence filled the car. “He’s not a bad person, Della.”

“What did his wife say? A woman would know that it wasn’t right.”

“There was no wife.”

“Ever?” she asked. “What? Is he gay?”

Chase’s mouth dropped open. “No. He saw some girls, sometimes.”

“So he’s a womanizer.”

“No. He used to be married. He said his heart belonged to one woman. He never got serious with any of the others.”

“What happened to his wife?” Della asked. “Did she leave him?”

He shook his head. “She was a medical researcher like him. There was an explosion.” Della saw Chase’s expression get serious.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Eddie had just walked out of the building. I think he felt as if he should have died with her.”

“That’s sad,” Della said.

“Yeah,” he said. “She was his bondmate.”

Della looked away, not wanting to think about that. “He still shouldn’t have let you go to the morgue.”

“It’s the same thing as going to a funeral,” he said. “But I sort of understand. I don’t like your father, either.”

She looked at Chase. “I told you he wasn’t always like this. He was patient, kind, and he thought I held up the moon.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just the way…” He let out a deep breath. “I’m just saying I feel protective of you, too. Like you do with Eddie.”

She wanted to deny it, but couldn’t. She recalled how she’d heard Chase’s heart skip to a lie last night about being jealous. “You really don’t know where Eddie is?”

“No.” Chase looked at her and he didn’t blink, as if letting her look him right in the eye meant he thought she’d see the truth there.

“You know, it hurts that you still don’t believe me.”

“I don’t know what I believe.” She paused a few minutes. “How are you going to find out if anyone on the council knows anything about Stone?

“I guess I’m going to see someone,” he said and still sounded angry.

She hesitated. “You don’t think … that they would hurt you, do you?”

“I don’t think so,” he said. But he didn’t sound that sure to Della.

Another silence fell like soft rain in the car.

“Hey,” Chase finally said. “Don’t make it obvious, but look at the guy walking out of apartment ten … to your right. Can you read his pattern?” Chase lifted his nose and inhaled.

Della turned her head slowly. “You think it’s Stone?”





Chapter Thirty-four

Let it be Stone. Let it be Stone. Della pushed her hair back, trying to appear normal.

“No, he’s too young, but he might be one of his grunt workers,” Chase said.

Della spotted him. The brown-haired guy, around twenty, wearing jeans and a dark black T-shirt, but he was too far away for her to make out his pattern. “He has a tool box in his hands.”

“I know,” Chase said.

Not wanting to get caught staring, she looked around for a few seconds, but when his footsteps brought him closer to their car, she glanced back again. “Half were,” she whispered and looked away, because if she could read his pattern, he could read hers.

“Do you think he can smell us?” she asked.

“Not all half weres have the ability to trace,” he said, but then muttered, “Shit. He’s coming this way.”

The next thing Della knew, Chase pulled her closer and had her in a lip lock.

“What are you doing?” Della asked when Chase’s mouth melted against hers.

“He can’t read our patterns this way.” His lips continued to brush against hers. “Besides, you’re the one who taught me this trick. At the bar, remember?”

She wished she couldn’t remember. Footsteps outside the car grew closer. So did Chase’s lips.

“Kiss me, Della.” He ran his tongue over her bottom lip. “Don’t make me do all the work.”

She opened her mouth. His tongue slipped between her lips. He tasted a little like toothpaste, a little like … Chase. And a lot of something forbidden.

He ran his left hand through her hair and gently cradled her head. With a gentle pull, he brought her closer. She stopped fighting it, and let herself go there—go to a place where nothing but sweetness and possibilities existed.

Where those footsteps were hardly heard.

Where the line between faking a kiss and enjoying a kiss became blurred.