Eternal (Shadow Falls: After Dark #2)(19)

“Let’s hope that’s the way this shakes out once our investigation is complete. Yet, this brings me back to the reason I’m here,” Burnett said, relaxing his posture, as if letting the were know compromise wasn’t off the table. “I have the body of someone for whom you have the empty casket. I simply want to put the deceased to rest in his proper grave.”

The were must not have been big on compromising. “That’s not protocol. If we start that, we’ll be burying and exhuming graves constantly. Besides, if the fresh turn died, his family will never know. They already think he’s in the box. What they don’t know can’t hurt them. They’re just humans.”

Just humans! “I will know,” Della said, her tone one shade lighter than black, and her eyes two shades brighter.

The were actually took a step back. “Fine. Dig up whoever you want. I’ll even supply you with a backhoe. If the boss wants to murder someone over this, I’ll tell him to go to the FRU.”

*   *   *

Thirty minutes later, the grave dug, Della sat on green winter grass, running her hands over the manicured blades and watching the backhoe pull Chan’s casket from the ground. Before the two security guards left, the other agents had shown up. The zipped tarp they brought with them now waited to the right of the gravestone carrying Chan’s full name.

She knew Chan’s body lay inside that plastic. Closing her eyes, she tried to decide if she wanted to see him. Should she hold on to the last memory she had of his face? The last time she’d seen him was when she was being Reborn and had fallen into the coma. They’d been in the clouds and he’d been happy, smiling his silly grin and teasing her about something. But about what?

She searched her mind, and the memory that had seemed so far away filled her head.

He’d been teasing her about her inability to bowl and one particularly memorable accident. She’d shifted her hand back to throw the ball, and it flew off her fingers, flying behind her in the opposite direction of the bowling lane. All five people waiting their turn had gone down trying to avoid being hit. Chan had insisted they count it as a strike because no one had been left standing.

A tear slipped out of her closed lids, remembering that moment in the clouds and how his smile had seemed so much like the old Chan. She wiped a few wayward tears away. Yup, that was how she wanted to remember him—not dead in a tarp.

She heard someone say something in a low voice, as if to purposely keep it from her. She opened her eyes. The agents, Burnett included, stood at the side of the grave, looking down at the opened casket as if something was inside.

Della’s breath caught. Had someone taken up residence in Chan’s casket?

“What is it?” She shot up. If it was a corpse, they’d better crawl their dead ass out of there, because they were about to get evicted. That was Chan’s casket, and by God, he was going to be laid to rest there.

Chapter Nine

Della’s heart did a double tumble before fixing her eyes on the open casket and possibly a decomposed body that she might have to remove.

Air, sounding a lot like relief, escaped her lungs and lips. Not a body. Just a box. A large shoe box.

She could admit it was strange, but the look of befuddlement on the faces of the three agents and Burnett seemed like overkill.

Then she saw it. The box vibrated. Like it held a heart.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Right then, the moon’s silver cast of light was blocked out by a large gray cloud slithering across the sky. The air she’d released in relief reversed and filled her lungs.

Just a rat, she told herself. But then, the oh-so-familiar sound of a heartbeat spilled out of the box.

“Someone needs to see what’s in it,” said the youngest agent, a warlock, but from his tone it was clear he wasn’t volunteering.

“Who says we have to open it?” said another of the agents, a vampire.

As if the dang box heard him, it started moving faster, and then the top flew off. Della wanted to tell herself it was the wind, but the night air stood so still that even the leaves didn’t stir.

With the moon’s desertion, the contents of the box were unidentifiable. Della leaned down. Something metal lay on top, but she couldn’t identify it. Then she spotted what looked like photographs.

Were these Chan’s things? Della’s heart yanked again. Was his ghost making the box tremble? Did he want her to look inside? Della looked over at the tarp where Chan’s body lay extra cold. Extra dead. Right then, a coldness overtook her.

Is it you, Chan?

Giving in, she exhaled the stale air held in her lungs. “Raise the casket a little higher and I’ll get it,” Della finally said.

“No, I’ll do it.” Burnett sounded embarrassed she’d volunteered before him. He glanced over at the fae agent who’d been driving the backhoe and now stood with them. “Go pull it up higher.”

The agent went back to the backhoe, almost eager to get away. Della watched and listened as the chains pulled the mud-caked open casket up another foot.

When Burnett started to reach in, Della stopped him. “It was Chan’s. I think I should do it.”

He nodded. She picked up the box and saw the wide-eyed stares from all the agents, as if fearing the thing would bite her.

It didn’t. At least not physically. Emotionally, she was bitten as soon as she glanced down and identified the metal object on top. One of Chan’s many bowling trophies. He’d told her once that he didn’t care that being a bowling champion made him look like a dork. It was the only sport he was good at. Yet, he’d never really been a dork, just a skinny Asian kid, a bit of a nonconformist, but with a good heart.