Reborn

by C. C. Hunter

  All of a sudden the sound of water filled her ears. She glanced toward the woods. Was she hearing the rush of the spring, or was it … the falls again? She shouldn’t hear the falls from here.

  “I need to get back to the cabin,” she said, and started to take off.

  “So you can go back to mourning and feeling sorry for yourself?”

  Angry that he made her grief sound so self-indulgent, she turned around, took two steps closer, and growled.

  He didn’t budge, his lack of fear a statement. Not that it mattered a flying flip. She wasn’t afraid of him either.

  “No,” she seethed. “I’m going back because Kylie and Miranda will be back any minute.”

  “Good, then you won’t be alone.”

  What was it to him? Since when had she become his concern?

  She continued to stare at him as if the paradox of who he really was would suddenly become clear. Nothing became clear. Except that this close, his scent filled her nose. And his trace registered again as one that had been familiar—one somehow tied to fear. But damn it, she wanted to know where she’d run across this panty perv before. Wanted to know why her gut said he was up to something.

  “Do you want to run again tonight?” he asked.

  “No.” Not with you. Where the hell do I know you from? Who were you meeting at the fence in the middle of the night? A bunch of questions rested on the tip of her tongue, but she’d already asked most of them, so why bother? Not that she’d stop looking for answers. Sooner or later, she’d get to the bottom of this.

  “Come on, we’ll just run together. Say around three in the morning.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because, like I said, you need to run, to push yourself so you can … deal with things?”

  “Why do you care how I deal with this?”

  He leaned back on the heels of his feet and hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “You haven’t figured that one out yet? And here I thought you were smart.”

  “Figured what out?” Was he finally going to tell her the truth?

  “That I kind of like you, Della Tsang.”

  “I’m not that likable,” she said.

  He grinned. “I have to admit, you do make it hard.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  When she stepped out of the woods, Della saw Steve sitting on the porch. He started toward her, and from the empathy on his face, she could tell he knew about Chan.

  For one second, a very short second, she felt guilty for running with Chase. She pushed that aside. She hadn’t done anything wrong. And if he did have a thing for her, she’d basically told him to take a hike.

  Once Steve got within arm’s reach he pulled her against him.

  She leaned against him, hoping no one was around to see them. “I thought you already went to Dr. Whitman’s,” she said, and drew back. But right before she moved her nose from his shoulder, she smelled it. A feminine perfume. Some girl had gotten awfully close to Steve. And she’d bet she knew which girl, too. As the jealously started to form, she smashed it like a mosquito. She had so much to deal with, she just couldn’t deal with that now. And besides, Jessie could have accidentally brushed up against him. She wanted to believe that.

  “I did, but I planned to come back to see you this afternoon. Then I called, and when you didn’t answer—”

  “I didn’t get the call.” She reached into her back pocket. Crap. Her phone? “I must have left it here.” But she always put it in her pocket.

  “When you didn’t answer, I called Kylie’s phone. She told me what happened.” He raised her chin an inch to look her in the eyes. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have come immediately.”

  She saw disappointment in his gaze. It seemed she was always disappointing him. Only not as bad as she’d disappointed Chan. “I … I knew if I called you I’d start crying again.” Why did Steve bring out her weak side? She didn’t know. Didn’t like it.

  As if to prove her right, tears stung her eyes. She started walking to the cabin. He followed her at her side, so close she felt his heat against her hip.

  When she shut the door, he reached for her again. “Maybe you need to cry.”

  “No.” She pulled out of his embrace and wiped her eyes. “I’ve already cried. And it’s not going to change a damn thing.” She went to the table to check and see if her phone was there. It wasn’t. She’d probably lost it when she’d been flying like a maniac trying to keep up with Chase.

  Her parents would kill her if she couldn’t find it. No, they wouldn’t kill her, they’d just be disappointed in her. Again.

  Steve frowned. “Tell me what happened.”

  It hit her then that her phone was the least of her problems. She’d look for it later, and she’d either find it or she wouldn’t.

  She dropped onto the sofa. The overstuffed piece of furniture sighed, a soft sad sound. Or maybe everything sounded sad to her today.

  Steve sat beside her and put his arm around her. The smell of perfume clinging to his shirt filled her nose again. Was she going to lose Steve to the perky blonde?

  Della sent that thought packing and told him what happened with Chan. In spite of not wanting to, when she got to the part about seeing Chan, his face partially covered in dirt, she felt a few tears slip down her cheeks.

  “I’ve been so fixated on trying to find my uncle and aunt, that I didn’t stop and realize that I’d been neglecting the one vampire family member I did have. How the hell could I have been so blind?”

  His arm tightened around her. “First, you weren’t neglecting Chan. You’ve told me dozens of times that you begged him to come to Shadow Falls. You tried, Della. Plus, you just said he told you it wasn’t important. And looking for your uncle, who was your father’s twin, is … well, that’s you wanting to reconnect with your father. It’s understandable that you feel stronger about connecting with him.”

  His words made sense. She wanted to find her uncle to fill the void she felt with her father. But making sense didn’t make it right. “He shouldn’t have been more important than Chan. I could have tried harder. I could have called him back. Five minutes. That’s all it would have taken.”

  Steve’s fingers moved in her hair as if to soothe her. “This isn’t your fault.”

  “It sure as hell feels like it is.”

  “That’s because you care and because you’re angry about his death. Crazy thing is that usually when you’re guilty you tend to shift the blame to other people. When you’re not guilty you blame yourself.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat. Another rhythmic sound filled the background. Footsteps. Someone was moving toward the cabin. She heard the footsteps stop, then start moving again. She inhaled.

  Oh, hell, it was Chase.

  His knock sounded on the door. She stood up and went to answer it, ready to send him packing and worried that Steve would be upset.

  “Yeah?”

  He looked at her and then his gaze lifted over her shoulder. To Steve. Not that Chase could be surprised Steve was here. He had to have smelled him. Had the vamp come just to cause trouble? She could feel Steve staring at her from behind.

  “Hey,” Chase said, acknowledging Steve.

  “Hey,” Steve replied, but somehow that one word came out as Go to hell.

  Chase’s gaze dropped back to her. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  She scowled up at him.

  He didn’t seem to be affected at all. “You dropped this when we were at the lake.” He held out her phone.

  “Thank you.” A whisper of relief had her chest lightening for one second. But the tension she felt radiating from the two guys sent that relief packing. She took her cell from his hand and closed the door.

  She turned to face Steve, sensing he wasn’t happy. He sat, cupping his knees with his hands and looking at her. His expression had shifted to disappointment. Again.

  Standing in the same spot, she listened as Chase�
�s footsteps moved away from the cabin.

  “You were with him?” Steve stood up.

  “I was running,” she said.

  “With him?”

  The word “no” formed on her tongue. But damn it, she wasn’t going to lie. She hadn’t been doing anything wrong. “Yes. He heard about Chan and he came by and suggested a run to make me feel better. So we ran around the property.”

  “So you’re running buddies, huh?” His eyes turned a gold color, a telltale sign of his mood.

  “We’re not buddies,” she said tightly.

  Steve stared down at the floor as if he found something there fascinating, but she knew he was lost in thought. He finally looked up. “I came rushing over here thinking you might need a shoulder to lean on, but it looks as if you’ve already found one.”

  “It’s not like that,” she assured him.

  He exhaled. “To borrow your earlier words, ‘it sure as hell feels like it.’”

  “Don’t make this into something it’s not,” she said.

  “Chase likes you,” he accused, as if that was her fault.

  “All we did was run. We spent less than three minutes talking. Nothing happened.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” he said.

  “I’m not.” It wasn’t like Steve to be so accusing. Why was he so certain she’d done something? Then the answer, the one he’d just given her, became painfully clear. Crazy thing is that usually when you’re guilty you tend to shift the blame to other people.

  “And Jessie likes you, right?” she asked.

  A flash of guilt crossed his expression. A new wave of pain washed over her. Exactly what was he feeling guilty for? Had something really transpired between them?

  He shut his eyes a second, then opened them. “I told her it wasn’t going to happen.”

  “Before or after you two kissed?” Della asked, now knowing that the perfume on Steve’s shirt hadn’t been from an accidental touch. Jessie had been in his arms, probably rested her head on that spot by his shoulder that Della loved so much. The pain she felt had the memory of losing Lee returning to haunt her.

  Steve passed a hand over his face as if trying to wipe away the blame.

  More pain swelled up inside her, crowding her chest with the guilt and pain from losing Chan. She shook her head. “You know what? I can’t handle this right now. I’ve got too much on my plate. Just go.”

  “Look, Della, I’m sorry,” he said. “She kissed me. I didn’t … I know I probably should have … Damn it! I’m sorry.”

  She heard his remorse and knew it was heartfelt, and for some reason it only hurt more. “Why are you sorry? What do you have to be sorry about? You and I aren’t going out.”

  And she needed to remember that, too. How many times had she told herself she needed to put the brakes on this? Well, the brakes were on now. “I don’t have any claim on you. We’re not together.”

  She heard voices and footsteps outside. Familiar voices. “Miranda and Kylie are coming,” she said. “You need to go.”

  “No, we need to talk.”

  “No can do,” she said. “Just go. I can’t handle this on top of everything else.”

  He stood there and just stared at her.

  “Please,” she said.

  “Della, I didn’t mean … I’m not giving up on us.”

  She gripped her hands into fists. “There is no us, Steve. There never has been an us.”

  Disappointment flashed in his eyes again, and she realized how much she hated disappointing people. Chan, her parents, and now Steve. The knot in her throat doubled. “Leave.”

  Kylie and Miranda showed up minutes after Steve left. Della had three diet drinks set out on the table. They forced condolence hugs on her, and then they sat down at the table to hear what happened. The last thing Della wanted was to go through Chan’s death again, but she’d told them she would explain. She wasn’t going back on her word—not even if it hurt.

  She told them about getting the phone call from Chan’s friend. She barely managed to tell them about finding Chan’s body. She didn’t tell them about Steve. Frankly, she felt stupid letting something as trivial as a breakup, not that it was even really a breakup, hurt her when she had her cousin’s death to think about.

  But it did hurt. Her heart burned with the knowledge that she’d lost someone else. It didn’t even matter that, logically, he’d never really been hers to lose.

  “Have you seen him again?” Kylie asked.

  Della hesitated, half thinking Kylie knew about Steve. “Seen who?”

  “Chan? Have any more feathers appeared? I mean, it seems that he might be the ghost. Don’t you think?”

  Della nodded. “Yeah, I’ve seen him. Remember I told you I saw him at the gate last week? And then when Burnett and I were leaving the park, I saw him again.”

  Miranda’s eyes widened. “You actually saw a ghost? Isn’t that unheard of for vampires?”

  “Not all vampires,” Kylie answered Miranda. “Burnett sees them sometimes.” Then the chameleon looked back at Della. “So, he’s shown himself. Did he say what he wants?”

  She shook her head, feeling the emotion tighten her throat. “No. He was like there one second and gone the next. And someone was with him.” And he’d looked at Della with the saddest eyes.

  “Maybe he just wanted to say good-bye,” Miranda said. “Not that it makes it okay. It’s spookier than hell.”

  “It is okay.” Kylie placed her hand over Della’s. “But chances are it’s more than just him saying good-bye. So he didn’t say anything at all?”

  Della shook her head. “He probably wants to tell me I let him down.” And it was going to hurt like hell hearing it, but she deserved it. She had let him down.

  “I can’t believe that,” Kylie said. “You didn’t let him down.”

  “Yeah, well everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t see it that way.”

  “Then you’re not seeing it right,” Miranda said in a stern voice. “Della Tsang doesn’t let people down. I mean, look at us. We fight all the time. I know you can’t stand me sometimes, and yet you’ve never let me down. Even when you’re mad at me, you always come through. That’s why I love you.” Tears filled the witch’s eyes.

  The emotion in Della’s chest made it hard to breathe. “Thanks.” But she wasn’t sure Chan would see it that way.

  Miranda wiped the tears from her face. “Maybe your cousin knows about your uncle and wanted to tell you.”

  “That could be it,” Kylie said, and then she looked at Della. “Did you tell Holiday about seeing Chan?”

  “No,” Della said. “I haven’t told her anything about the ghost. Not yet.”

  “You should,” Kylie said. “She can help you deal with the whole ghost thing.”

  “First I have to deal with Chan’s death,” Della said.

  “I know,” Kylie said, and reached over and put her hand over Della’s. “I know how hard it is. When I lost Nana, it nearly killed me.”

  “I haven’t lost anyone, but I can imagine how it hurts,” Miranda said. “And both Kylie and I are here for you. I won’t even get mad at you when you get pissy. You’ve got an it’s-okay-to-be-pissy pass from me.”

  “A pissy pass?” Della repeated, and while it sounded so funny she felt the air in her lungs shudder with emotion.

  “Yes,” Miranda said with conviction.

  “Oh,” Kylie said. “I brought you your uncle’s file.” She pulled it out of her bag sitting beside the table and handed it to Della. “Have you told Derek about this? It might help him find something.”

  “No, not yet.” I’ve been too busy breaking up with Steve. Della opened it and stared down at the writing. Guilt for worrying more about finding her uncle than staying in touch with her cousin did another tug on her heart.

  “You look exhausted,” Kylie said. “Have you slept any?”

  “Not yet.” Della massaged her temple again. Her headache returning like a bad penny. Boy was she a mess. Her
life falling apart piece by piece. Her dad hated her. She was getting clobbered on the head by either a murderer or the death angels. Steve was kissing Jessie. Her cousin was dead. And she was seeing ghosts. Could anything else happen?

  Yup, it could. She found out Monday afternoon. Burnett had called and asked Della to meet him at his office. He started out telling her that Chan’s autopsy had been delayed and it would be a week before they could place Chan in the grave site that held his marker from when he faked his death.

  “Why so long?” The thought of Chan’s body being in some cold morgue hurt.

  “Because there were no signs of foul play, the autopsy is going to take a little longer than I’d hoped.”

  Della nodded. “I want to be there.” Her chest grew heavy.

  “At the autopsy?” he asked, confused.

  “No, at the burial,” she said.

  He exhaled as if in disagreement. “It’s going to be done in the middle of the night and quickly.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t want him to be buried alone.” She hadn’t seen Chan’s ghost again, and thought maybe he’d passed on, but at the very least, she was going to be there when his body was put in the earth. She could remember the crowd that had been at Lorraine’s funeral. The people who had been there to show their love for her. Della couldn’t live with the thought that Chan would be dropped in a grave and not have anyone—not one person there to mourn for him.

  Burnett stared at her with defiance and she suspected what he was about to say. “With all you have been through, don’t you think it would be wise to forgo working on the recent murder case?”

  Her suspicions were on the mark. “No! And don’t use this as an excuse to stop me.”

  He held up his hand, his eyes tightening. “I just think you’ve had too much on your plate.”

  Of course it was too much. She felt like she was dying inside, but not doing anything would make it worse. “It doesn’t matter. Not only do I want to do this, I need something else to think about other than my cousin’s death.” Other than her father’s hatred of her and losing all hope of her and Steve. “Please. Didn’t I, with Kylie and Miranda’s help, do well at the funeral home yesterday? We caught that guy.”