Reborn Page 7

He exhaled. “Sometimes it’s hunger, a recently turned vampire not having someone to help them through the change. Other times it’s a lack of respect for humankind.”

Della inhaled deeply and fought the need to throw up again. “We’re monsters,” she said, not meaning to say the thought aloud.

“No, we’re vampires. And we’re no more monstrous than any other species. Humans included. Good, bad, and evil isn’t species-specific. Don’t you ever question that.”

She blinked, hating that she’d expressed her insecurity to the one person she longed to impress more than the others.

He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. She nodded and looked away.

“Did you get a trace of his scent?” Burnett asked as if he sensed her need to change the subject. “Or was it too contaminated?”

Della looked back toward the bridge before facing the camp leader. The glow from the crescent moon reflected off his black hair. His dark eyes still held a touch of empathy, but he was back to being a tough FRU agent.

“I can’t be a hundred percent sure, with all the scents of the others, but I think it was the same vampire who passed over Shadow Falls. There’re traces of what seems like the same scent.”

He shrugged. “Which means you coming here was futile. I’m sorry I allowed you—”

“I’m not,” she said. “I want this, Burnett. I want to be a part of the FRU. It’s what I’m meant to do. I can handle it. I can. Even you said you got sick at first.”

He nodded. “Yes, but … there are easier ways to make a living, Della.”

“I don’t want easy. I want to catch the bad guys. I want to make a difference.” The words rolled off her tongue with honesty and sincerity.

He arched one brow. “You sure you just don’t want to kick someone’s ass?”

“Well, there’s that, too,” she admitted, and almost smiled, hoping that would ease the tension.

“That’s what worries me,” he said with a tone so dead serious that it wiped the half-assed smile from her face. “You’re tough, Della, I know that. But you’re going to run into bad guys who are tougher than you, and with your attitude you’ll end up like our Jane Doe back there. Being willing and eager to fight doesn’t make you a good agent. Knowing how to avoid a fight that you’ll lose, and being able to set your pride aside are better qualities. Qualities you haven’t developed yet.”

She tilted her chin upward and bit back her urge to argue with his opinion of both her toughness and her character. “I’ll learn.”

“I hope so.” He turned.

She reached out and touched his arm. “I want to help work this case. I want to get justice for … them.” She motioned back to the crime scene.

He sighed. “We’ll see.”

“Please,” she said.

“I said, we’ll see. The case won’t start until we get full reports back from the autopsies.”

He left her and went back to join the other FRU agents. But the sting of his words Qualities you haven’t developed yet stayed behind and cut her to the core. Burnett didn’t think she had what it would take to make it into the FRU.

Somehow, someway, she’d prove him wrong.

And to start, she forced herself to go and face the gruesome murder scene again. With each step she took, she vowed to not throw up again. It didn’t matter if Burnett had done it for a year, she wasn’t going to do it again.

She’d prove to him that she had what it took. Then she’d catch the bastard who did it.

It was almost four in the morning when Della got back to her cabin. Kylie was sitting at the table, looking kind of eerie in the dark wearing a white gown. Her blond hair hung down around her shoulders and her expression told a story that was a cross between The Exorcist and Friday the 13th. Or maybe Della was just overreacting after seeing … real death.

“Hey, you okay?” Della asked.

Kylie blinked. “Yeah, just couldn’t sleep.”

Bullcrappy! Chances were, Kylie had company. The kind of company Della couldn’t stand. “Are we alone?”

Kylie shrugged. Della moaned. The chameleon was a full-fledged, over-the-top ghost whisperer, and while Della hated to admit it, that scared the living shit out of her. If Kylie wasn’t one of her best friends, Della would’ve kicked the spirit magnet out the door. But being mean to Kylie was like being mean to a hungry puppy with a hurt paw. And frankly, if anyone was mean to her, Della would kick their butt so fast they wouldn’t know what hit ’em. But they sure as heck would know they’d been hit.

“Don’t just shrug. Tell me the truth, are we alone?”

“Right now we are,” she said with an apologetic voice.

“But someone just left?”

“Someone’s playing with me.”

“Playing with you? You make it sound like fun.”

Kylie frowned. “It’s not. But he/she keeps whizzing past, not saying anything and not slowing down long enough for me to get a good look.” Kylie made a face. “Holiday would say that’s a sign. Who do I know that zips past and doesn’t slow down long enough to be recognized?” She tilted her head and then pointed her finger at Della. “You.”

“Sorry, I’m not dead.”

“I don’t mean you exactly. I mean … a vampire. Maybe my new ghost is a vampire.”

“Great. We’ve got a dead, pissed-off vamp hanging around.”

Kylie made her frustrated face. “I didn’t say he/she was pissed off.”

Della walked up to the table. “So he/she wasn’t pissed off?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t say it.” She grinned.

Della rolled her eyes. “I swear, you’ve been hanging around Miranda too long. You’re using her logic.”

“I sometimes like her logic,” Kylie said.

Della did, too, but she wasn’t in an agreeable enough mood to admit it. She glanced back at her bedroom door and considered going and falling into oblivion. Then she refocused on the empty chair across from Kylie and considered just spending a little time with her best friend.

The chair won. She sank into it and tried to stop her shoulders from drawing up from the tension.

“Where have you been?” Kylie asked.

Della’s gut tightened. “I went for a run and we had an intruder that flew past. I picked up on his scent. Burnett showed up a second later and he got a call from the FRU. I went with him on the call.” She bit her lip, unsure she could talk about it without making it hurt even more.

“What kind of a call?” Kylie asked.

Della hesitated, then decided that if she wanted to do this, to be an agent—and it was what she wanted more than anything—then she needed to learn to deal with it. “Two people right outside of Fallen were killed.”

Kylie’s expression went to pure empathy. “Was one of them vampire?”

Della understood what Kylie meant. She thought the ghost who’d shot by had been one of the victims. Della shook her head. “Human.” She had even checked. As hard as it had been to look at them directly, she’d done it. “But it looks like a vampire killer,” she forced herself to say.

Kylie frowned. “Does Burnett suspect rogues?”

“I don’t know. They aren’t suspecting anyone yet. They took the bodies in to be checked and then they’re going to do a code red.” Code red meaning they’d stage the deaths as an accident so the human world didn’t catch on.

Kylie’s eyes showed heartfelt emotion. “Was it … terrible to see?”

“No,” Della lied. Then her breath shook, along with her lying heart. “Yeah, it was awful.”

“Sorry.” Kylie put her hand on Della’s. “You want a diet soda?”

Della almost said yes, then sighed. “No, I need to try to get some sleep.” She slipped her hand away from beneath Kylie’s and stood. Dad blast it if she didn’t feel the emptiness from the lack of Kylie’s touch. If she were just a little weaker, she would ask Kylie for a hug. One of those long ones that helped heal the worst heartaches. But she wasn’t that weak.

“Why don’t you just sleep in tomorrow?” Kylie said as Della got to her bedroom door.

Della looked back and considered it. Then she remembered that Burnett already saw her as not tough enough. “No, I’ll be fine.” She needed to convince Burnett that she could handle this. Handle the murder, the mayhem, and the sleepless nights that came with it. Convince him that she had what it took to work for the FRU.

She walked through the door, then glanced back. “Thanks,” she said.

“For what?” Kylie asked.

Della shrugged. “I don’t know. For being awake.”

Kylie grinned. “You’ll have to thank the ghost for that.”

“Not likely.” Della glanced around. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, especially considering she couldn’t see them, but sometimes when Kylie said they were here, she felt a cold chill. One that reminded Della of death.

And with death came the death angels—those who stood judgment over all supernaturals. Those whose punishment was swift and final. Who wanted their life splayed open and checked for mistakes. God knew she’d made plenty.

Realizing she was staring at nothing, she glanced back at her friend. “He/she’s not here now, are they?”

“No,” Kylie said.

“Good, keep it that way.” Della walked into her bedroom. A silent room where she was alone with her thoughts. At least she hoped she was alone. She glanced around, trying to sense if Kylie’s ghost had returned. There was no unnatural chill.

As soon as she plopped on the bed, her mind shot away from Kylie’s possible visitor, to the terrible scene she’d witnessed tonight. Images flashed in her head again.

The woman had only been a few years older than Della, and the guy had looked like her boyfriend. It appeared as if they’d been parking in the moonlight, probably making out, high on kisses and sweet touches when they’d been attacked and fled their car. Two people having a romantic night and then brutally murdered. Maybe thoughts of the ghost were better.

Burnett’s words from earlier filled her head. We’re no more monstrous than any other species. Her heart throbbed and it felt raw. It didn’t matter what he said. The fact that it was a vampire who had done this despicable act made her ashamed of her species. Ashamed that she needed blood to live.

Not monsters, my butt. If she weren’t so afraid that her own parents would see her as just that, she’d tell them the truth. She could still be a part of her family. Still be her daddy’s little girl. Instead, she was an outsider forced to visit, only to realize how much she’d lost. Forced to let them think she was probably doing drugs, might be pregnant, and would stoop so low as to steal from them.

She tried to chase away the images of the two dead bodies lying faceup on the wet ground, their necks mutilated from so many bites, their open eyes missing any sign of life. She tried, but couldn’t get it out of her head.

“We are monsters,” she whispered into the silent—with any luck—ghost-free room.

She felt a few tears slip down her cheek and she batted them away. Hopefully the fact that she wanted to catch the bloodsucker who murdered that innocent couple—that she wanted to make him pay—hopefully that made her a little less of a monster.

“I’m gonna catch you,” Della said, vowing to never forget the scent of the killer who’d rushed by tonight. Someday, sooner or later, she would run into him again. “And when I do,” she spoke into the dark room, “I don’t care what Burnett says, I’m gonna enjoy kicking your ass.”

“Della?”

The deep voice echoed in her mind and penetrated her dream. A familiar dream. She stood again in that dark alley in her Smurf pajamas. The monster, the supersized, chubby gargoyle, stood about five feet in front of her. His eyes glowed red and evil. His intent, to maul her, was made clear by the gooey-looking drool that dangled from his jowls.

What the hell did this ugly, loose-skinned, slobbery varmint want with her?

“Della, are you okay?” the voice came again, from behind the garbage can. Which was a shame, because that was exactly where she planned to toss the ugly monster, who commenced charging at her.

She flinched, prepared to fight, and instantly became more coherent.

“Della?” This time the voice hadn’t come from behind the garbage cans, but from the other side of the dark curtain in her mind. A side where real life existed. Where gargoyles didn’t exist. Where the monsters walking the earth were simply vampires.

When she felt a touch brush across her brow, she became fully alert. With vampire speed and strength, and even before her eyes fluttered open, she caught the hand and held it away from her face.

Her vision hadn’t completely cleared when she recognized the dark-haired, dark-eyed shape-shifter standing over her.

She dropped her tight hold of his wrist. “What are you doing in here?”

Steve frowned. “I tapped on your window and when you didn’t stir it worried me.”

“So you just decided to help yourself into my bedroom?” she snapped, coming to the pissy realization that her hearing must be off again. What the hell was up with this?

“I came in to check on you. You’re usually awake by the time I get anywhere close to your window. I knocked for a whole five to ten seconds and you didn’t even roll over. Are you feeling okay?”

He reached down to touch her brow again and she swatted his hand away.

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