by C. C. Hunter
She didn’t like him, but felt empathy for him losing his family the way he did.
She knew he was keeping things from her and Burnett, but wasn’t she keeping things from Burnett, too?
Where the heck had she picked up his scent? Why would he lie about it? What if she was wrong about him lying? Was it possible that she’d gotten his scent but he hadn’t picked up on hers?
It was possible.
And you’re impressed with his abilities, a little voice in her head said. She tuned the voice out, accepting that her feelings about this guy were black and white, yin and then yang. Problem was the black was quickly fading to gray and yin was shifting more to yang.
Not that there was anything romantic going on. Hey, how about that Chase guy? Just walk up to him and plant one on him hard and heavy.
Hard and heavy. Her gaze shifted to his lips, and she wondered what it would be like to … Holy hell! Why was she thinking about that?
“I gotta go,” she said, realizing they were just standing there staring at each other’s mouths like in some stupid movie. She only got a few feet away when she heard, “See you tonight.” Anticipation sounded in his deep voice and she got a distinct feeling it wasn’t just about the case.
The words “it’s not happening” rested on the tip of her tongue, but she’d already told him that. She’d told herself that too, but for safety’s sake, she repeated it in her head. Then she took off.
She got out of the woods, and all three girls were waiting in an aura of curiosity. Miranda, being Miranda, dropped the question first. “Did you do it?”
Scowling at the witch, she muttered, “Hell, no.”
“Told you she wouldn’t do it,” Kylie said.
Della glanced at Kylie. “So she told you guys the advice she gave me? Where does she get this shit?”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Miranda said.
“I see why it could work,” Jenny added her two cents to the subject, “but it could also be dangerous. What if she likes kissing Chase? What would that mean for her and Steve?”
“I wouldn’t,” Della said. “Because … I just wouldn’t.” She glanced from Jenny to Kylie and hoped both the chameleons didn’t have their vampire powers on and didn’t hear her heart skip a beat.
“I don’t know. He’s hot.” Kylie’s grin said she was teasing.
Too bad Della wasn’t in a teasing mood. “Then you kiss him. Go on. Lay one on him!” She waved back to the woods.
“Nope, I got the man I want.” Kylie gave Jenny a quick glance.
“Hey,” Miranda chimed in. “All I’m saying is that it worked for Perry and me. And you should at least give it a shot.”
Della rolled her eyes. “I’ll do that just as soon as hell opens up a free Popsicle stand. Now stop talking about me kissing Chase. It’s making me think crazy thoughts.”
“What kind of thoughts,” Miranda asked with an arched eyebrow, then wiggled her shoulders like a dog wagging its tail.
Della growled right as her phone rang. She suspected it was Chase, leaving his number. She pulled her phone out to check.
She was wrong.
“Who is it?” asked Miranda.
“No one,” Della snapped, wishing the witch would stop being so damn nosy.
“So, Steve, huh?” Miranda said.
Della growled again and started walking faster, wanting to outrun thoughts of Steve, Chase, and her prying friends.
But when her phone dinged with a voicemail, she knew sooner or later she was going to have to deal with Steve. But how?
It’s amazing how many PI and police cases are solved using social media. Derek’s words started sounding in her head during English, her last class. Yeah, maybe it was an avoidance tactic, to not think about all her other crap, but it worked in her favor. Because the idea just plopped into her brain, and it felt like a good one.
Facebook, here I come.
She might not know how to handle the old schoolmates of her dad and his siblings, but she knew how to handle teen girls. And maybe, just maybe, something they might say could give her a lead on Lorraine’s murder. Yeah, it was a long shot. Vampire killings were a different animal from your normal everyday murder. But how could it hurt to try?
How?
Easy. She found out all too quickly.
The more she learned about Lorraine, the more it hurt. The more she realized what a waste it was that someone so decent, with so much life, had been yanked from this world.
Della had started searching for any info on Facebook and Twitter, even hit a few local online papers. She learned Lorraine had attended a New York dance school back in the summer. She even ran across several tweets with images of Lorraine’s new puppy. One of those smooshed-nosed dogs with big ears that was so ugly only a mother would love it.
Or love it until the dang puppy got turned into vampire, a cynical voice whispered in her head.
Chasing that thought from her mind, Della friended about six people who claimed to know Lorraine. Thankfully, most people will friend anyone, so that worked in Della’s favor. Within a couple of hours, Della was Facebook friends with four of Lorraine’s school buddies, too.
Della messaged them, saying she’d met Lorraine in New York last year and had just heard she’d died. There was a chance one of these people went to New York with Lorraine, and her cover would be blown. But that didn’t seem to be the case.
Three of the girls replied back over the next hour, and Della was messaging all three separately. She had three accounts of what happened to Lorraine right before the murder. Della also knew everything from Lorraine’s favorite color to the argument she’d had with her mom the night she died.
Lots of info, but nothing that helped with the case.
“What are you doing?” Kylie asked, walking into the cabin.
“Research on the case.”
“That couple?”
“Yeah,” Della said, and wondered why her curiosity didn’t extend so much for Lorraine’s boyfriend. Maybe, just being a girl, she related more with her.
“You going to dinner?” Kylie asked.
“Nah, I have some blood here.”
“Okay, but if you get lonely come on down. Some of us are going to light a campfire by the lake and roast marshmallows.”
“Sorry. I’m working the case again tonight.”
Concern flashed in Kylie’s light blue eyes. “I wish Burnett would let me go to have your back.”
Della shook her head. “You’re a protector, not an agent.”
“I thought we did pretty good at the funeral home.” Kylie started out.
“We did.” Della smiled and waved good-bye, then refocused on the screen.
Lindsey, one of the girls, finally wrote something interesting. When I first heard about the accident, I swear, I suspected Phillip did it. You know, ran them off the road or something.
Not unless he’s vampire, Della thought, and she recalled someone at the funeral talking about Phillip being Lorraine’s old boyfriend. Della typed back. Yeah, I heard they broke up. But he wasn’t that bad, was he?
Lindsey replied. Not at first he wasn’t, but once he got in that band, he got effed up. I don’t know if it was drugs or what?
Hmm, so Phillip played in a band? And got effed up. Getting turned vampire could really eff someone up. Della’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, typing one friend and then the next. What was Phillip’s last name? I forgot, she asked Lindsey and the other two.
Lance, Lindsey replied, being the most eager to answer questions.
Oh, yeah, now I remember, Della typed. Did you ever hear him play in his band? What was the name of that band? She messaged the same question to two of the girls, thinking it would be a place to start researching him.
Lindsey came back again. They kept changing it, but the last name before the group broke up was the Crimson Blood.
Crimson Blood? The name of the gang Chan was involved in. Chills ran down Della’s back. Could that just be a coinci
dence? Della recalled Burnett saying he didn’t believe in coincidences.
But how could she get to the bottom of this one? Her fingers suddenly itched from the need for more information. I never understood why Lorraine loved him so much. I think I saw a picture of Phillip once. He wasn’t even good-looking. Didn’t he have red hair?
No one answered for a few minutes. Finally, Lindsey came through again.
No, brown. Kind of hot. Had a tattoo of a skull on his neck.
Shit! Glancing up, she saw the time. She didn’t have time to get to the bottom of anything. She had to go meet Chase at the office. She considered telling Burnett what she’d learned but decided against it. She could hear Burnett scolding her that she wasn’t keeping her emotional distance from the case and reminding her how unlikely it was that a vampire killing had any direct ties to the life of the victim. But not if the victim had an ex who was a vampire.
Gotta go, Della wrote all three girls, and then headed out. She decided to Google-search the Crimson Blood band when she got back in. And then she realized, Kevin, Chan’s friend—the one who’d led her to his body—knew some of the Crimson Blood gang. She had to talk to Kevin. Maybe he could tell her if there was a Phillip Lance in the gang.
Long shot, her gut echoed back. But long or not, it was a shot, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to take it.
The boisterous voices seeping out of the bar stopped when she and Chase landed. Della spotted a couple, limbs wrapped around each other, behind a group of trees. Two lovers? Or was it one of the girls selling her body? The idea knotted Della’s stomach.
“The gang’s here,” Chase said in a low whisper.
She nodded.
“Stay close,” he said.
She made a face and they continued toward the door. The room seemed darker, as if the crowd of vampires had sucked the light out of the room. All the dark auras, Della thought, and inhaled, trying to see if her sense of smell had returned. Nope.
“Over there,” Chase said, pointing to an empty table.
Della felt all twenty pairs of eyes on her. Jeepers, if things went wrong, she and Chase would be pushing up daisies. A chill moved under her sweater, telling her that her temperature still wasn’t right. But now wasn’t the time to worry about that.
The bartender, the same one from the night before, came strolling over. “What’s your liking tonight? I got some B positive. It goes down good with a splash of Jack.”
“We’ll take the blood straight up,” Della said, not wanting alcohol involved. They were going to need all their wits about them tonight.
The bartender nodded and walked off. She took a glance around the room and discovered not all the patrons were vampires. She picked out a few werewolves and warlocks sitting among them. So, not everyone here was part of the gang. When Della came to one table of four, she recognized three of them.
Agents from the FRU—one of them the female agent who’d come to help clean up the kangaroo mess. And that was just the three she recognized. Who knew how many of the other patrons were agents?
Della didn’t know whether to be relieved that they weren’t alone, or offended that Burnett thought they might need help. But after another quick glance at the undesirable characters here, she decided Burnett might have been right to send them.
“You okay?” Chase asked.
“Dandy,” she answered.
A couple of glasses of blood landed on their table. The server was a young female vamp. She gave Chase a good look up and down, and the swipe of her tongue over her lips said she liked what she saw. Panty perv smiled at her, and Della had no doubt that under different circumstances he and server would have ended up bumping uglies. Then again, Chase didn’t look like the type who had to pay for it, and Della would bet the girl’s services didn’t come free.
“I think she likes you,” Della said, when the girl walked away..
He looked up at Della, beneath his dark lashes. “She’s not my type.”
“You have a type?” she asked, and holy shit if she didn’t wish she could swallow the words back into her mouth.
“I like a challenge. Or so it seems lately.” The corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly with a smile, leaving no doubt of what he meant. “Dark hair is nice, too. Someone who speaks her mind. I don’t even mind someone a bit stubborn. A good argument every now and then just gets the blood flowing. And making up is fun.”
Damn, she’d started this, but how could she squash it? “Well, there’s a lot of girls out there like that.”
“I’m not so sure,” he said, and arched one brow. “You got a type?” He turned his glass in his hands.
“No.” She looked down at her blood.
“Liar,” he said.
She lifted her gaze. “Stop acting as if you know me, you don’t.”
He shrugged. “You like dark hair. Someone strong enough to stand up to you, but not too headstrong. Tall, a little muscular. The good-looking type.”
“You really have an ego the size of Texas, don’t you.”
He smiled. “I was describing Steve. But thank you.”
She growled.
His grin didn’t waver. “I might be a little too headstrong for you.”
“You got that right.”
“But you could probably convince me to work on it.”
She rolled her eyes. Another couple of bar customers walked through the door. Chase causally looked around, and she saw his shoulders stiffen ever so slightly. Then he started a conversation about some of the places he’d visited. Paris, Germany, China. Della knew he was just making conversation so they wouldn’t stand out. Knew he suspected someone was eavesdropping.
She still listened with interest, and forgot to study his face to see if he was lying.
“What part of China?” she asked, her gaze now on his left eye.
“Sang Hi, Beijing, Wuhan,” he said, and it didn’t sound like a lie.
“You’ve obviously been, right?”
“A couple of times.”
Chase glanced slightly to the right as if telling her something. Only then did she hear the footsteps.
A guy—a big guy, about twenty-one, shaved head, tattooed up, with enough piercings that a refrigerator magnet could take him out—came to a stop at their table.
“I hear you’re asking questions about one of mine?” The guy posed his question to Della. From his words, she supposed he was the leader of the gang. She couldn’t help but wonder if the one with the most piercings got to be the leader. She counted eight pieces of metal just on his face.
“Yes,” Della said, trying not to stare at the ring that dangled off his nose. Man, wouldn’t that be a hazard when fighting? “I heard you had a fresh turn recently join. I’m looking for a guy with short dark hair.”
“And just why are you looking for him?” he asked, his tone abrupt.
Time to lie or skip around the truth. “Actually, I had a brief encounter with him.” That was true. He’d flown over her at a low range.
“But you don’t have a name? Isn’t that kind of strange?”
“Not really all that strange,” Chase, with his lying abilities, spoke up. “She met him right after he turned, and you know how overwrought a vamp can be during that first forty-eight hours. Anyway, she never got his name. Crazy, right?”
Mr. Piercing didn’t look convinced. “I thought she was your girl. I heard you nearly choked a guy to death for touching her.”
Chase shrugged. “Well, let’s just say I’m trying to convince her to be my girl. She thinks she might have something with this other guy. Chance meeting and all that—one night with someone doesn’t mean crap. I don’t care how good he was in the sack.”
Say what? Had Chase just basically called her a ho? He might as well have when he’d said she’d had a one-night stand and done the hump-and-bump with a crazed stranger. He couldn’t think of a better cover story than that?
“And,” Chase continued, still eyeing the vamp, “I think as soon as
she sees him, she’ll realize I’m the better choice.”
The pierced gang leader stared at Chase. “Maybe you’re interested in joining up with us?”
“I’m not much of a joiner,” Della put her two cents in.
The gang leader looked at Della. “Actually, we’re more interested in your friend here. But if you’re willing to put out that easy, you might convince me.”
She growled.
“Hey,” Chase intervened; sounding a little perturbed, but how could he? He’d started this.
“She hasn’t given it up to me,” Chase said. “That’s why I’m sort of curious to meet this guy and see what he has that I don’t.”
The gang leader seemed to buy it. Della didn’t know whether to be happy or pissed off. “Well, I’m curious to see what kind of muscle you got. See if you’re as strong and quick as rumor has it.”
Chase leaned back in his chair. “Tell you what. You hook us up with a meeting with your new kid on the block, and you and I’ll go for a little innocent one-on-one in the ally.”
“How about we do that right now?” The pierced vamp extended his fangs, and Della sensed that his idea of a one-on-one sparring match wasn’t all that innocent.
Oh, double damn! This wasn’t going to end well.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Della cut her eyes to the table of agents. At least they wouldn’t be alone.
“Nah,” Chase said, keeping his cool, but his eyes grew brighter. “I like my idea better.”
“And I don’t.” The gang leader glared at Chase. “What does it take to get you in a fighting mood? Touching your little slut here?”
“No,” Della snapped, not fond of being called a slut or being used as bait, but more furious at being seen as someone who couldn’t fight her own battles. “That would put me in a fighting mood. Then you’d be embarrassed at having your ass whooped by a girl.” She let her fangs down and glared at the hand he held out.
“No trouble, Luis!” the bartender called out. “That’s our deal. You still haven’t paid for the last tussle your guys started in here.”
The jerk shot the bartender a third-finger salute, then focused back on Chase. “I see why you like this chick. Spunk and not a bad looker either.”