Eternal

by C. C. Hunter

  She didn’t like anyone knowing her that well.

  “You’re right,” he said, his voice deep and sincere. “I’m not sorry Steve is leaving. I’m not sorry that I get a chance to prove to you that you and I belong together. But don’t you dare doubt that I’m sorry you’re hurting. The pain in your eyes when you walked into that office, the pain you’re working so hard to hide, I saw it. I feel it. And for that, damn it, I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t know when she’d started crying. She wasn’t an easy crier. But she’d lost Steve. And yet here she was less than a few hours later with Chase. Feeling guilty, telling herself that the only reason she was here was about the case, but down deep she knew it was more. She leaned her head forward, resting it on Chase’s chest, and let a few more tears fall. His arms came around her and he held her.

  And as crazy as it seemed, it felt right. So right. And yet, still wrong. So damn wrong.

  She stepped to the side, out of his embrace, and swatted at the tears on her face. “We should go see if anyone is home,” she said, working to keep her voice from shaking.

  He nodded, stepping closer, and with one finger, he wiped away a tear she must have missed. “It’s going to be okay. Believe me.”

  She turned and started walking. Then a realization hit.

  Hit hard.

  Hit fast.

  She did believe him. But she didn’t know what “okay” was, or what it meant. Because everything in her life was changing. Again. And she hated change.

  * * *

  No one answered at the Owen house, so they left to go to the Brian’s place, which was about twenty miles away. Della didn’t talk for the first fifteen minutes. Neither did Chase.

  All she’d done was rest her head on his chest. Let him put his arms around her. Why did it seem like more?

  The answer came. Came with clarity. Because she’d leaned on him. Physically. Emotionally.

  Della Tsang didn’t lean on people. At least not many people. Definitely not someone she barely knew. Especially not someone who had basically caused the problem plaguing her.

  Fracking hell. She was so damn confused.

  She glanced up at the cars moving willy-nilly on the four-lane freeway, her emotions experiencing the same kind of traffic.

  A green Saturn jumped lanes two cars ahead. Houston drivers drove like werewolves trying to reach a fresh kill before another wolf got all the good parts. She suddenly recognized the stretch of freeway. They were only a few miles from the turnoff to her neighborhood. And just like that, mentally she was back in the car with her dad when he taught her to drive.

  It’s the same as playing chess. You have to be on the offensive and the defensive. You have to guess what the man in the car beside you is going to do.

  Funny thing was, he never lost his temper with her, not even when she accidentally pulled into the side of the garage and ran over his golf clubs. Her chest grew heavier remembering what Derek had told her about the calm and gentle man who’d raised and loved … used to love her. The police suspected he had been the one who murdered his sister, Bao Yu. It just couldn’t be.

  He never hit her or her sister. He didn’t need to. The look of disappointment in his eyes was punishment enough for both her and Marla. Right then, a new pain wiggled its way into her heart. She missed them. Missed them so badly it hurt.

  She pushed a finger against her temple, wondering why she was suddenly thinking about all that.

  “Damn!” Chase seethed.

  Della jerked her gaze up as a red van shot into Chase’s lane. He swerved, tires screeching, into the left lane between two speeding cars. Then the car in front of them slammed on its brakes. Chase did the same, and then to prevent rear-ending that car, he jumped back into the other lane. Horns blew all around them.

  Della saw the accident in her mind: cars piling up, people hurt, blood, lots of blood. But Chase somehow, God only knew how, managed to keep from being hit.

  Chase, hands still grasping the wheel, muttered another curse. Della, adrenaline shooting into her veins, let go of a deep breath. Then she glanced out the side window to see a gold Honda pulling up beside her.

  In slow motion, she saw the driver start to turn his head.

  “Shit!” With super vampire speed, she unlocked her seat belt. Her gaze darted to the floorboard, already occupied by the huge, expensive camera bag. She did the only thing she could to hide from the other driver—she threw herself over the console, between the gearshift and the seats, and plopped her face in Chase’s lap.

  “Frack!” he muttered, as his butt shot up from the seat at least two inches. He groaned.

  Perhaps her chin had come in contact with his boys. She did have a pretty hard chin. But she didn’t care. Oh, she cared. Being here was the last place she wanted to be. But she wasn’t moving. Couldn’t.

  If it was a choice between burying her face in Chase’s crotch or letting her father see her driving around Houston in a zippy-looking Camaro with a good-looking guy, she’d go with Chase’s crotch. Her father would have a shit fit.

  He’d probably pull her out of Shadow Falls and stick her butt in some reform school. She couldn’t lose Shadow Falls. Couldn’t lose Kylie, Miranda, Holiday, Burnett, and even little Hannah Rose. Chase’s crotch was a better choice. And she was going to stay there, nose-deep, until he got off the freeway. But if he farted, she would have to kill him!

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Della?” Chase hissed.

  “Get off the freeway,” she snapped, then she remembered her dad’s exit was next. “No, don’t get off the freeway.” She turned her head to the side a little and the tip of her nose shifted across his zipper.

  “Della?” he said, firmer. “What the hell are you doing?”

  You mean other than trying not to think about where my face is? “What do you think I’m doing?” Then, realizing what his answer might be, she added, “Forget I asked that. I’m hiding. My dad’s in the gold Honda in the lane to the right.”

  “Shit,” he said.

  “I already said that,” Della spit out. And then another wave of panic set in. “Did he see me? Is he staring at the car?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Then why did you say ‘shit’?”

  “Because…”

  “Did I hurt you?” she asked, remembering how hard she’d slammed into his lap, and feeling her face getting warm with embarrassment.

  “A little.”

  “Sorry,” she said, patting the side of his leg before she realized how awkward that would feel. Her hands on his leg. Then again, why should patting his leg be awkward when she had her nose in his private parts?

  The next noise he made was a chuckle. Deep, honest, and almost musical. It still pissed her off.

  “Don’t laugh,” she said between tightened lips.

  “Sorry, it’s funny.”

  “No, it’s not,” she snapped back.

  “Oh, yes it is.” She felt his hand gently brush some of her hair from her cheek. The car’s emergency brake handle bit into her ribs.

  She closed her eyes, the heat of humiliation burning all the way inside her chest. “Has he turned off the freeway yet?”

  “Not yet,” he said. “Just stay there.” His finger brushed over her ear, as if tracing the outer edges.

  “Are you watching the road?” she blurted out.

  “Yes.”

  “Then quit playing with my ear.”

  He laughed again. “You’re worried about your ear?”

  She moaned.

  He chuckled again. “Try not to move too much.”

  Could someone die of embarrassment? Della wondered. And after a couple of seconds, she asked, “You’re not lying, are you?”

  “About what?”

  “About my dad still being on the freeway.”

  “No. I’m not lying. He’s about to pull off. I’ll tell you when it’s clear.” He paused one second. “Clear.”

  She raised up. And with no other option, she
looked at him. He burst out laughing.

  “Your face is so red,” he said between gulps of laughter.

  She growled at him, and then for reasons she couldn’t explain, it all of a sudden seemed funny to her, too. The chuckle leaked out and she couldn’t stop it.

  They laughed practically all the way to the second address.

  * * *

  They made it back at 7:59. One minute before curfew. Burnett sat outside on the office porch, his phone in his hand, when they walked up. Della hadn’t reached the office yet when it hit her. The whole Steve leaving issue.

  “I was just about to call you,” Burnett said, and stood up to open the cabin door. Chase and Della followed him into Holiday’s office.

  “Anything?” he asked as he moved toward the desk.

  Della suddenly wished she’d told Chase not to mention the near disaster of almost running into her dad. Knowing Burnett, the least little thing would put him back into protective mode where she was concerned.

  “The Owen family wasn’t home,” Chase said.

  Della held her breath, hoping and praying he didn’t bring it up, and ready to intervene with some other subject if he did.

  “We did drop in on the Brian family,” Della added.

  “Did you get anything there?” Burnett leaned against Holiday’s desk.

  “Yeah. Both the parents are white.” Della filled Burnett in about knocking on their door trying to sell magazines.

  “I knew that,” Burnett added. “Right after you left, the DMV finally sent me over copies of their driver’s licenses. I also got both Mr. and Mrs. Owen’s. White as well.”

  Della nodded. “But as you said…”

  “It could just mean they aren’t her biological parents,” Burnett finished her sentence for her.

  “I still believe it’s one of them,” Della said. “Actually, I think she’s Natasha Owen.” The moment she said it, she felt certain. “If we’d had time, we would have gone back by their house.” She’d almost called Burnett and asked for an extended curfew, but being her first night to work the case, she knew he’d balk. “But if we left now—”

  “No, it’s late. You need rest. You can go tomorrow evening.” Burnett ran a hand through his hair and looked over at the door. Della could hear someone coming up the office steps outside. Then she heard a baby’s coo.

  “Why do you think her name is Owen?” Burnett asked, cutting his eyes to the door, obviously waiting for his wife and child to walk in.

  Della looked at Chase. She hadn’t asked him earlier. Probably because she hadn’t wanted to think about it. “I felt something at her house. A sadness. I think the ghost was there. I didn’t feel that at the Brians’ house.”

  Chase’s brow tightened.

  “Did you feel it, too?” she asked him.

  “Yeah,” he said. “But I was hoping I imagined it.”

  Me, too, Della thought, but didn’t say it.

  “Fine,” Burnett said. “You can go back tomorrow. Maybe you’ll find something out.”

  “Not so fast,” Holiday said, standing in the door with a baby on her hip. “I’m a little worried about this.”

  Hannah Rose started flapping her hands at the sight of her father. Burnett reached for her, pulling the little bundle close to his chest. “I’ve checked with the local authorities on both the Brian family and the Owens. Neither have any criminal history. I don’t think they pose any danger.”

  Holiday frowned. “It’s not them I’m worried about.” The red-haired fae’s gaze went from Della to Chase.

  “Then who?” Della asked, almost certain the woman was going to say something about Chase. Chase’s shoulders tightened as if he had the same thought.

  “The ghost,” Holiday said.

  “Why would the ghost hurt us?” Della asked. “All she wants is for us to find Natasha.”

  “I agree,” Chase said.

  “Maybe.” Holiday reached for a strand of hair and twirled it. “But she managed to bring both of you into a vision, and if she did what Burnett told me, with those names on the back of the picture, then she’s pretty powerful. A ghost with that kind of power, and that desperate, can be dangerous. Even if their intentions aren’t evil. Spirits have been known to cause mud slides, tornados. The last twenty-car pileup that happened in L.A. was because of a spirit.”

  Della thought of the near accident on the freeway. That wasn’t the ghost, was it? Why would she attempt to hurt them if they were trying to help her?

  “I’m not going to stop looking for Natasha,” Della insisted, and shot Chase a glance hoping to communicate to him not to mention the near accident. If Holiday or Burnett thought the ghost was dangerous, they’d be even more out to put a stop to this.

  Chase’s eyes widened as if he recalled the accident. Della shook her head so slightly.

  Holiday spoke up again. “I’m not suggesting you stop. Just make her give you a little more information before she sends you off on more wild-goose chases.”

  Della appreciated Holiday’s concern but … “You said ghosts do what they want, when they want. It’s not like I can text her to send me some info.”

  “But if you stop following her leads, she’ll be forced to give you something else. The more she gives you, the more able you’ll be to figure this out.”

  “I don’t want to stop,” Della said, and the ghost didn’t want her to stop, either. She felt it, didn’t like feeling it, but she did. “Natasha and Liam are going to die if we don’t find them. And fast.”

  Della saw it in Holiday’s eyes again. She didn’t think they were alive. “Don’t say it,” Della said, tilting up her chin in defiance.

  “Don’t say what?” Chase asked.

  Della glanced at him. “I told you, she thinks they’re already dead.”

  “They’re not dead,” Chase said, with the same conviction as Della.

  Find Natasha!

  The voice came so loud in her head, Della flinched. When she looked at Chase, he had his eyes closed. He’d heard it, too.

  “I know it’s hard to accept, but we don’t know that they’re alive,” Holiday said.

  Instantly, the temperature in the room dropped so fast that steam billowed out of everyone’s lips as they breathed. A glass vase of flowers sitting on the edge of Holiday’s desk burst. The glass fell to one side, the water another. The water turned to beads of ice like that fancy dot-like ice cream, and all those tiny ice beads rolled around the desk until they formed letters.

  A

  L

  I

  V

  E

  Right after the E formed, the door to Holiday’s office slammed shut with such a loud crack it sent an echo through the frosty air. All the little balls of ice ran off the desk and bounced around the floor, making tapping sounds until they melted.

  Della held her next breath, too scared to breathe. She saw the same raw panic on Chase’s face. Burnett clutched his daughter closer.

  Holiday simply lifted her right brow. “So, okay,” she said, sounding completely calm. “Maybe they’re alive.”

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, Della and Chase were dismissed after more words of caution, but a commitment from both Holiday and Burnett, and even a coo of approval from Hannah, to move forward on the investigation.

  Burnett had agreed they could go tomorrow afternoon to see if the Owen family might be home. They were also going to hang around the neighborhood where Liam lived to see if they could get anything there.

  Burnett was going to go back and interview the men arrested with the Craig Anthony case and see if he could “persuade” them to give up any info on the last missing vampires. By the look of worry in the stern vampire’s eyes, Della wasn’t sure she wanted to know what type of persuasion he’d use.

  As they walked out onto the porch, Chase stayed close to her side. Under the almost full moon, she moved off the cabin’s porch and turned toward the trail back to her cabin.

  “Walk me to the car,”
he said under his breath.

  “Why?” An image of Steve from earlier with so much pain in his eyes filled Della’s head and heart, and the guilt from earlier tap-danced its way into her conscience.

  Frowning, Chase cut his eyes back to the cabin, as if saying he wanted to make sure no one was listening.

  Oh, hell, she’d walk him to the car. She’d spent the day with him, she could handle a few more minutes. Besides, a little guilty voice whispered, Steve’s leaving.

  When they passed through the gate into the parking lot, Chase’s shoulder brushed against hers and she did a quick sidestep. He looked at her and frowned, and then spoke. “That was scary.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” she said with sass.

  He glared at her. “Do you always have to be a smartass?”

  “Only with special people,” she said.

  “So, you admit I’m special.” He smiled. But the smiled vanished quickly. He ran a finger under her eye. “You do look tired.”

  She moved his finger away. “I’m fine.” But in truth, he was right. She was tired. Borderline exhausted. And she hadn’t even started to digest everything that had happened today.

  He nodded. “Do you think it was the ghost who almost caused the accident on the highway?”

  A tickle of fear stirred in her gut thinking the ghost had that much control. “I don’t see why she would do it.”

  “I know, but it was weird. I don’t know if you saw it, but all the cars started going a little crazy right before it happened. And for a second there, it almost felt like the car was driving itself.”

  “You think she possessed your car? Possessed a bunch of cars on the freeway?” Della asked, not wanting to believe it. Nope. Didn’t want to!

  “After what she did in there, I think it’s possible. Besides, Holiday said—”

  “No.” Della shook her head. “She did the freaky ice thing in there to prove to a point. She didn’t need to prove anything on the highway.”

  He exhaled as if he only halfway believed her. To be honest, she only halfway believed herself.

  “All I know is I don’t like it.” Chase lowered his voice as if afraid the ghost might be listening. “And I want you to tell her to stop this crap. Let her know we’ll do our best to find Natasha and Liam, but stop messing with my car and my head.”