Reborn (Shadow Falls: After Dark #1)(83)

She recalled his story about losing his whole family. He’d probably made it up. “How are you doing with your whole family thing?” she said with accusation.

Something flashed in his eyes … anger, grief. Maybe he hadn’t made it up.

“So you weren’t lying?” she asked.

“No.” He cut his gaze around, lifting his nose up to check for familiar scents.

“Anything?” she asked.

He looked back at her, almost too fast. “No. You?”

No way was she going to tell him her sense of smell was out. She lifted her face as if testing the air. “No.”

Footsteps heading their way sounded in the background. Della prepared herself for company and possible trouble. One of the rough-looking guys drinking whiskey dropped in the chair beside her and leaned close.

“Hey beautiful,” he said, his mouth way too close.

Chapter Twenty-five

“You two are new around these parts.”

Della backed up. He looked to be in his early twenties, but he also seemed as if he’d had a rough life. He looked her up and down and then glanced at Chase.

“Since you don’t seem to be her type, I thought she might like me better.”

So the creep had been listening. Not that she hadn’t been eavesdropping on him and his friend. But their talk about how they’d played football in high school hadn’t been all that interesting.

“We’re just having a bit of a tiff,” Chase said, his voice deepening. “She’s with me.”

“Is that right, Sweetie?” he asked Della. “You know, at first, I thought you worked here. You know, as a professional girl.”

Had he just told her she looked like a prostitute? She frowned. “First, I don’t work here. Second, my name’s not Sweetie. And third, if I’m anyone’s girlfriend, I’m his.” She turned to Chase, and when he tilted up his mouth in a wicked almost grin, she rolled her eyes. “Which I’m not,” she added quickly.

“A shame,” the half-drunk vamp said, his gaze shifting back to Chase. “You see, I’m not an acquired taste, I’m delicious from the first bite.”

He showed his canines—which could use a good brushing—and Della suspected the pun was intended.

But that didn’t stop him from stretching his arm across the back of Della’s chair and touching her hair. She’d like to play with his hair—as in grab ahold of his ponytail and give him a good swing across the room.

“Where are you two from?” he asked. His touch stirred at her neck and she suppressed a shiver. And not the good kind!

Della debated breaking the guy’s fingers. She could reach back and crack his bones before he could say uncle. But she didn’t know if playing along for a few minutes might get some information.

“I’m from California,” Chase said. “She’s from the Houston area.”

“What brings you from California?” Ponytail asked Chase, tilting his head to the side as if listening for an untruth. Della tried listening, too, but couldn’t tune in. Instead of worrying, she studied Chase’s expression.

“My mother moved here,” Chase said.

The jerk sitting beside her appeared satisfied that Chase spoke the truth. Yet, hadn’t Chase told her his mom was dead? Yes, he had, and she’d listened to his heart beat to the truth then, too. Della recalled how Chase’s eyes shifted to the left when he’d just answered the half-drunk vamp. She’d heard that eyes shifting to the left was a small sign of someone lying.

She’d been right not to trust him. She tucked that info away to concentrate on the problem at hand. “Hand” being the key word. The creep’s palm was slipping under the collar of her shirt to touch her lower neck right now.

She shifted her shoulder, as if to shoo away a pest, hoping he’d take a hint.

He didn’t.

Chase’s gaze shifted to her collar. His eyes brightened with discontent. But if anyone was going to teach this jerk a lesson, she was. She cut Chase a glare that said stand down.

“I’m looking for someone,” Della said, struggling to ignore the man’s touch. “I think he was newly turned. Short dark hair.”

“Is he one of those twelve guys you just told this boy you’d prefer to be with right now?” The man nodded at Chase, but didn’t look at him. Good thing, too, because the quick glance she got wasn’t pretty. Fangs out, eyes a neon green.

“Yeah, I’d rather be with that guy.” She focused on the jerk, knowing her heart sang to the truth. She’d rather be with Lorraine’s killer right now. She even hoped he’d give her a fight, so she could give some fight back. Teach him a few lessons before she turned him over to Burnett.

The jerk nodded. “I heard a fresh turn was in the area last week. The Juggler gang was trying to recruit him.” The jerk’s fingers slipped farther inside her collar, all the way to her shoulder. Her skin crawled, but she wanted answers more than she hated his touch.

“Where can we find the Juggler gang?”

“Don’t know. I don’t belong to any gang. Don’t need ’em. I can take care of myself. Of course, every now and then I like to take care of some pretty young thing like you.” He shifted his chair closer, and his hand slipped a little farther inside her shirt. His whole cold palm rested on her bare shoulder. And she no longer wanted to break his fingers. His neck would do just nicely.