Reborn (Shadow Falls: After Dark #1)(61)

The GPS announced they were arriving at their destination. Kylie pulled past the funeral home and then parked a half a block up the street.

They got out of the car. The morning sun was bright, the October air crisp. The feel of the cold on her skin reminded Della that she still might have a slight temperature. Just how long was this flu thing gonna last?

Kylie moved and stood behind the car, looking around as if checking whether it was clear to go invisible.

Della did the same. One car whizzed past, a block down, a few people strolled down the street, but no one was around who could actually spot what was going on.

“All set?” Kylie looked at Della.

Della nodded, and her heart raced at the thought of finding answers. In a few minutes, she actually might know for sure if she had an uncle and aunt out there.

Kylie took Miranda’s hand and asked, “You ready?”

“Yup,” Miranda said. “Let’s do it. I’ve been practicing my jock-itch curse.” She wiggled her pinkie. And right before Della’s eyes they went invisible.

Della started down the sidewalk toward the funeral home. Because of Burnett’s insistence that Kylie use her invisibility talent with extreme caution and never to invade anyone’s privacy, Kylie hadn’t practiced this gift very often. It felt odd knowing that Kylie and Miranda were behind her when she couldn’t hear, see, or smell them. She sniffed again, but got nothing. Then again, with the craziness of her senses lately, she might not have known they were there. The temptation to talk to them rose, but she decided she’d better not.

With each step she told herself it was silly to worry. All she was doing was asking a few questions.

Tension still pulled at her stomach as she glanced around. Less than half a block up, a couple of rough-looking men ran across the four-lane road. Even from a distance, she felt them eyeing her. She inhaled to catch any scent. Her nose worked now.

“Only humans,” she whispered, letting Kylie and Miranda know.

The two men darted across the road and started her way. One of the men swayed on his feet as if drunk. She moved to the side, giving them plenty of room. She ignored them, but did check their foreheads to make sure her nose hadn’t fooled her. For sure humans. Lowlife humans, she amended when she saw the way the two men seemed to undress her with their eyes.

Not wanting trouble, she moved over and walked in the grass, hoping they’d just pass her by.

Her hopes were futile. They stepped off the sidewalk, blocking her path.

“Hey, babe, you want to earn a few bucks?” asked the first drunk-looking guy, sporting a dirty ponytail. He rotated his pelvis.

She fought the urge to grab the slimeball by his dirty ponytail and give him a couple of root-pulling whirls, then toss his ass back across the street. Instead, she moved to the other side of the sidewalk.

See, Burnett, she thought, I can control myself.

It wasn’t just about kicking butt.

“I’m ignoring this,” Della muttered, assuring herself and Kylie, in case the protector felt the need to kick ass.

The two thugs made a few more rude comments, but they didn’t follow her. Or touch her. For which she was grateful, because their sour smell still polluted the air.

She passed a liquor store and pawnshop before getting to the funeral home. The white brick building looked tired, and the sign reading ROSEMOUNT FUNERAL HOME needed a fresh coat of paint. Gazing around, she realized the whole neighborhood needed a makeover.

As she neared the front door, she recalled her daddy complaining that his sister had chosen this place to have Chan’s funeral service. But had her aunt chosen it? Della didn’t have a clue how it worked when someone faked their own death.

Hopefully in a matter of minutes she’d have answers. She pushed open the door, holding it wide a second so Kylie and Miranda could walk in, too.

The smell in the funeral home stung her nose. Formaldehyde? Wasn’t that what they used on bodies? She took another deep sniff to see who might be here, but the first odor prohibited her from catching any other traces.

Could that be intentional? She pushed that thought aside and glanced around.

The light was low, making everything appear gray and heavy. She cut her eyes left and right, noting the not-so-polished wood floors and unmanned desk, adorned with a vase of wilted flowers.

Tension pulled at her shoulders. She tried not to focus on the drab interior. What she sought was a geezer vampire. She didn’t spot one. She didn’t spot anyone.

She did a complete turn, noting two doors leading out of the entry. Was anyone here? Realizing there were probably dead people tucked away in coffins in the back made her skin prickle. She recalled the funeral of the murdered girl she’d attended just a few days ago. Her vow to find Loraine’s killer wasn’t null, just …

“Can I help you?” The deep, annoyed-sounding voice came out of nowhere, and she almost jumped.

Damn it. Why hadn’t she heard him approach? Her hearing must be on the fritz again. She turned and tried to mask the panic on her face. The figure loomed in one of the doorways. And there was a lot of figure to loom.

The giant of a man, or giant of a vampire, wasn’t anywhere near geezer status. Dark-haired and olive-skinned, he reminded her of Burnett, a little older but just as menacing.

She saw him checking her pattern. His left brow arched slightly and he almost smiled as if happy to see her. The tension in her stomach kicked up a notch.