Page 23 of Unspoken (Shadow Falls: After Dark #3)

Chapter Twenty-three

The small group of Shadow Falls students Burnett relied on to help keep the school safe were all crowded in the front waiting room of the main office as Della entered.

Burnett’s voice rang out, then paused as he waited for her to join them.

Della walked through the door, nodding at Lucas, Chris, Fredericka, and Derek as she moved the rest of the way into the room. Miranda, with a big smile on her face, stood beside the camp leader. Pride glowed in her eyes, no doubt from giving Burnett the info about an intruder.

Burnett’s gaze met hers with tons of questions flickering in his dark eyes. Her tardiness probably concerned him, because she always arrived first at meetings like these. The wardrobe change had taken longer than it should have. It took some time to dig out the cleanest dirty jeans and shirt she had. And with a vampire’s sense of smell, her idea of dirty and someone else’s didn’t always match.

“Where’s Chase?” Burnett asked.

Della’s shoulders tightened. Why did he assume she was with Chase? The fact that she had been with him didn’t mean shit. He still shouldn’t assume.

She bit back her desire to toss him a condescending remark. “I’ll explain in a minute.” And hopefully only a minute. She didn’t want to be here too long.

He hesitated as if he were considering pulling her into his private office, but then refocused on the group. “Like I was saying. We think it’s probably a shape-shifter. The electricity flickered off yesterday. I’m thinking that must have been when he snuck in.”

“How do you know it’s a shape-shifter?” another were, a friend to Lucas, spouted out the question.

“We don’t know for certain,” Burnett said. “But our system measures a heat index put out by the number of individuals here and taking into account the different body temperatures. The system can be thrown off slightly by any shape-shifter shifting on the grounds. I checked yesterday and it was slightly off and didn’t worry about it, thinking it was due to a shift. After Miranda came to me with her premonition, I checked it. It’s over again, which is a cause for concern.”

Della frowned. “It’s a black grackle.”

All eyes turned to her. Burnett looked half puzzled, half pissed. “You know about this?”

“I saw the bird. At first I thought it was one of our shape-shifters, but then it showed up a couple more times.”

Right then two sets of footsteps sounded outside. All the vampires turned toward the door. A familiar voice rose in the night. One she hadn’t heard in a while. Perry?

“Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you?”

Della titled her head to see if she could hear who he was talking to. Their footsteps drew closer. All the way up the porch steps.

“Found the intruder,” Perry said, pushing into the room with another golden-haired bright-eyed shape-shifter—except that when Della checked his pattern she realized he was half shape-shifter, half human.

Della could almost hear the thoughts of everyone in the room, and they matched her own. The guy standing in front of Perry could have easily been his twin.

“His name is Sam.” Perry held the boy’s arm, and eyed him with contempt. “He’s one of my long-lost cousins.”

“And you think he was here to see you?” Della asked, thinking that was what Perry was going to say, but her mind was already refusing that explanation. Why would he have been following her around, or have been at Chase’s cabin? This guy was up to no good, and she had a feeling it somehow involved her or Chase.

“No,” Perry said. “He didn’t know I was here. He’s already confessed that he was sent by some lowlife to spy on someone here. But he doesn’t want to tell me anything else.”

Just like that, Della knew. “Douglas Stone.” She shot through the crowd to stand right in front of the twerp. “That’s who sent you, isn’t it?”

The way the Perry look-a-like cut his eyes away from her, she knew she’d hit the nail on the head. What she didn’t know was if this meant that Chase was right. Her uncle hadn’t killed his sister.

“Good job.” Burnett focused on Perry. “Everyone leave except Perry and his cousin.” Burnett motioned to the door leading into Holiday’s office.

Della counted her lucky stars, wanting to get back to Chase, and zipped out the door.

She had one foot on the first porch step when she heard Burnett’s growl. “And Della!”

She stopped, let out a puff of air, and did a U-turn, all the while wondering how two words could evoke so much frustration. She stepped inside. “You said—”

“I can stay, right?” Miranda interrupted. “I’m the reason we found him.” The witch stood by Holiday’s office door and watched Perry usher his very unhappy cousin into the office.

Burnett faced Miranda. Della could almost see him rein in his temper. His shoulders dropped and his jaw unclenched. Why didn’t he ever rein it in for her?

“Yes, you did,” he said. “And I appreciate that, but we’ll take it from here.”

Miranda made her frustrated face and started out, but stopped next to Della. “Everything okay?” she whispered, the question telling Della the witch had heard her phone message to Kylie.

“I’ll explain later.” Della cut her eyes up at Burnett, standing a few feet away and scowling down at her.

At least the big, bad vampire waited until Miranda had stepped out before speaking. “Actually, I think you’re going to start explaining right now. And start by telling me why Chase isn’t here. I texted both of you.”

But damn, all this happened so fast, Della didn’t know how to start to explain. “Yeah, but… uh, Chase kind of… He—”

“Spit it out,” Burnett ordered.

Della would have commenced spitting, but a loud crash came from Holiday’s office. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a jet black grackle come flying out of the office.

Standing closest to the door, Della slammed it shut to prevent the bird’s escape. Turned out, however, it wasn’t necessary. Burnett, almost as if he expected it, or if he caught and ate birds for dinner most of his life, reached up and snatched the bird from the air.

“Go check on Perry,” Burnett snapped, while he stared daggers at the feathered captive.

***

She found Perry a little woozy from taking a whack with a lamp across the head. But he was fine. After a few minutes, Burnett asked again about Chase. She spilled her guts. If his red face and four-letter muttering were any indication, Burnett didn’t take the news well. Della, however, was too concerned about Chase to be traumatized.

The first thing Burnett did was call Holiday and ask her to go check on Chase. Then he called Steve to meet Holiday there, where she was to assess if another doctor needed to be called in.

“Can I go now?” She wanted to be there to hear Steve’s assessment.

Burnett looked puzzled. “Don’t you want to hear what Perry’s cousin has to say?”

“You can just tell me, right?”

He studied her. “Just like you told me about Chase being hurt?” Frowning, he waved his hand. “Go. I’ll fill you in. But we will talk about this.”

Nothing like postponing an ass chewing. She flew off and arrived just in time to hear Holiday calling Dr. Whitman. Chase’s wounds now looked infected.

***

Chase woke to an empty stomach, his need for blood almost painful.

He lifted his eyelids and stared at the ceiling, feeling disoriented. A vague memory of going to the prison, of… pain. Lots of pain. Bits and pieces of memory fell into place. The were had escaped, another had cut him with a knife. Then the ghost had appeared.

Leo, the guard, had called the council.

He tightened his muscles, preparing to shoot out of bed to find answers, when he caught two scents. Baxter. And then one a hell of a lot sweeter than his dog.

Della.

Careful not to move, he glanced to the side through his lashes. The need for answers faded against his growing need to just… linger here. In this moment, with her, beside him. Asleep. In bed.

A smile, the one that just naturally appeared when she was close, widened his mouth. He worked to keep his breathing low, so as not to wake her.

She lay on her side, both her hands tucked under her cheek. Her dark lashes so long that they rested against the tender skin under her eyes.

Skin with a little dark tint, a sign she hadn’t gotten enough rest. How long had she been… here? How long had she been a hand’s reach from him, sharing his bed and even his pillow? He resented sleeping, feeling the time wasted, when he could have been watching her.

She lay so close he could feel her breath, a light tickle, on his neck. A strand of dark hair rested against her cheek. He longed to reach out and brush it away. Touching her hair was one of the things she didn’t balk about. Or at least not too much.

Little did she know how much he loved touching it. Not that there weren’t other parts he longed to touch. Still, the dark strands were soft, a lot softer than his hair, and always smelled like… like a girl’s hair should smell. A cross between a fruit and a flower.

He fought the need to run his fingers through the long dark strands, knowing that when she woke up this closeness would end. She’d pull back.

Della always pulled back. He just kept telling himself that the day would come when she wouldn’t. When touching her wouldn’t be risky. When she would touch him back.

He studied her lips—so pink, with the perfect shape. He wanted to press his mouth against hers. To taste her. He wanted… His gaze lowered to the scoop of her tank top, where the soft swells of flesh pressed against the cotton fabric. He recalled how she’d looked in just her panties and bra when he’d gone to her cabin the other night.

For that matter, he’d seen her naked when she’d been sick, in the beginning of her second turn. Mentally, he’d tattooed that vision to his mind, where he visited it often.

What he wouldn’t give to take her clothes off—every stitch of material—then to remove his own and feel her against him, skin to skin.

The feeling of rightness shot to his chest and then whispered lower, where his body hardened from all his wanting. Closing his eyes, staring at the blackness in his mind, he willed the primal urges to lessen. The last thing he wanted to do was to come off like a pervert. She didn’t deserve that.

He felt her stir, heard her breathing increase. Was she… He opened his eyes.

She stared at him, her lids still heavy, sleepy and sexy. He expected her to jackknife up, to put more space between them.

She didn’t.

“You’re awake.” She smiled. Damn, but she was beautiful when she smiled.

“You slept with me.” He reached to touch her.

That’s when she did it. She pulled back. But at least she didn’t leave his bed. She pushed up on her elbow.

A slight frown pulled at her forehead. “You begged me not to go.”

He grinned. “So that’s all it takes to get you in my bed? Begging? I would have done that months ago.”

She shot up, but he noted her expression didn’t get as distant as it usually did when she pulled away. “You need to drink blood.”

As she walked out, he watched her. “A morning kiss would be nice,” he called out and petted Baxter, who shifted closer.

She turned around and frowned. “I don’t want to shit in your Cheerios, bucko. But you almost died last night.”

He chuckled, then searched his mind for what else he could remember. He recalled insisting that Kirk bring him here… to her. And like he knew she would, she’d taken care of him. More proof that she cared. That the wall she’d built up between them was slowly crumbling.

“You saved me,” he said.

“No, I don’t like you that much,” she said. “Steve and Dr. Whitman did that.” She walked out.

He tossed the sheet off to get up. He saw that he was wearing only his underwear. Had she…? A smile pulled at his lips thinking about Della undressing him and their earlier conversation about underwear.

He stood up. His knees gave, but he caught himself.

She walked back in, ignoring his lack of clothes, and handed him a bottle of blood. When her fingers brushed against his, a sweet bolt of attraction hit, tingled down his arm, and went straight to his heart.

Something about her being here, waking up with him, and even him being just in his underwear made the moment feel right. It would have felt righter if she were partially unclothed—or completely naked—but he’d take what he could get.

He reached for her. She stepped back.

“Get back in bed and drink your blood.” She took the bottle, unscrewed it, and then put it back in his hands. “The doctor said he would be here this morning to check on you.”

“I’m fine.” He turned to the dresser to grab his jeans.

She shot between him and the piece of furniture. “Bed!”

The move had her so close again, he could smell her hair, or her shampoo, he didn’t care which it was. All he knew was that he really liked it.

“If you come with me.” He wiggled his brows at her.

She growled. Her eyes brightened, her mouth pursed into a beautiful bow, and her shoulder arched back, emphasizing her small breasts. They may be small, but they were beautiful. The image of her naked flashed in his mind again.

He grinned. “You would never get angry around me if you knew how sexy you look when you’re mad.”

Her frown tightened. “Would you quit making light of this? You almost died, Chase. First from blood loss and then an infection. And for the record, if I never have to see the insides of your gut again, I’ll be okay with it.”

“I’m not trying…” Chase paused and looked at her. “Does Burnett know?”

“I had to tell him,” Della said. “Douglas Stone sent someone to spy on you. And he snuck through the alarm.”

“What? Wait. Did they catch him?”

“Yes.”

“And?” Chase asked.

“And he’s Perry’s long-lost cousin, and the last news I got, he still wasn’t talking. Burnett’s taken him to the FRU headquarters.”

Chase reached around her and snagged his jeans. “Then let’s go make him talk.” He sighed. “Before I got ripped to shreds at the prison last night, I found out that Stone knows we’re on to him, and it sounds like he’s being protected. I need to find out what the Vampire Council knows.”