Unspoken

  Steve opened the unmarked tube and swabbed the wound.

  Chase let out another low growl. Baxter lifted his head and whined.

  “Now turn him over. And I wish the dog would get off the bed.”

  Della turned Chase, and got Baxter down again. Chase moaned. Della’s gut knotted, feeling his muscles tighten and knowing she’d caused him pain.

  Steve cleaned the wound and covered it in the ointment. After she rolled Chase back over, Steve started to walk away. But then his brows creased and he leaned down to study the wound.

  “What is it? What’s wrong? Is it getting infected?” Della asked, not liking Steve’s sudden interest.

  He glanced up, puzzled. “No, but the wound is already closing.”

  “Is that good?”

  “It’s … odd.” He looked at the bag of blood. “He’s barely gotten any blood. Usually … it takes longer.” He looked back at the wound. “But yes, I guess it’s good. He won’t be losing more blood. Let’s just hope he doesn’t get an infection.” Steve picked up the tube. “What’s in this stuff?”

  “I don’t know,” Della said. “If it’s already healing and doesn’t look infected, does that mean he’s in the clear?” She wanted to hear Steve tell her Chase was going to be okay.

  “Not necessarily,” he said. “But it’s a good sign.”

  She tried to find peace in that, but it wasn’t helping very much. “So how long before he’s conscious?”

  “That depends on how much blood he lost. He looked as if he’d lost a lot. I can stay with him if you want to go.”

  “No, you can go. I’m gonna stay. Please, I have this now. If I need you, I’ll call.”

  He nodded, and from his expression she saw that he was reading a lot into her request. All of the awkwardness she’d feared from the situation bubbled to the surface.

  Glancing back at the bed, she went over and lifted the cover over Chase’s mostly naked body. Not because she thought he was cold, but for modesty’s sake. She wouldn’t want to think someone would let her lay there half naked and out of it.

  She motioned for Steve to follow her out of the room. “I … Chase was hurt trying to help clear my father’s name. I owe it to him to make sure he’s okay.” But that wasn’t the only reason, and she knew it. The truth was there, deep in the pit of her gut, where she didn’t have time to dig for it.

  When Steve didn’t answer, she added, “Chase and I aren’t … together.” It wasn’t a lie, so why did that make her heart do a couple of cartwheels?

  Steve smiled. Not a real smile, but something close. “It’s okay, you don’t have to justify it, Della.”

  Didn’t she? She watched him go back into the bedroom and collect his bag, and another question hit. Wouldn’t the old Steve need a justification?

  When he came out, he hugged her. She closed her eyes and tried to find comfort in that embrace, but all she felt was the awkwardness. And then that same sensation from earlier hit, the one that said things had changed.

  “Thank you.” She pulled back.

  “I think Chase is the one who needs to thank me.” Steve ran his hand down her forearm. “We still need to have that talk.”

  “I know.”

  He grinned, and this time it was real. But his eyes still looked sad.

  “Don’t let him move around for several hours. As soon as he comes to, make him drink blood. If he hasn’t come to by the time his IV is finished, call me and I’ll come and set up another one. Check the wound at least every hour. If the wounds start looking red or inflamed, call me immediately.”

  She nodded, then stood there and watched him leave. For some crazy reason, while she hadn’t actually decided how she felt about Steve, or what would or wouldn’t happen between them now, she felt he had decided. Had he closed the door to the possibility of them being a “them”?

  She still hadn’t decided how she felt about that when she heard Chase moan. All thoughts about Steve shot out the window and she ran to check on Chase.

  When she got to the bedroom door, she saw him trying to get up. “No.” She ran to his side. “Don’t get up.” She eased him back down.

  He looked up at her. Then he caught her hand. “Stay here,” he said.

  “I will.” She squeezed his hand.

  “Right here,” he said.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she assured him.

  He took a deep breath. “You were right.”

  “About what?”

  “The council. They … they aren’t…” He slumped down on the pillow.

  “Aren’t what?” she asked. He fell unconscious again. “No! Chase, wake up.” She touched his chest. “You need to drink blood. Please.”

  He didn’t move. Baxter whined.

  Frustrated, she lowered the sheet to check his wound. It didn’t look inflamed, but damn it, now she wondered if she shouldn’t have asked Steve to stay.

  What if she missed something? What if he got worse?

  A sound—a light thump outside the bedroom window brought her head up. She saw the bird, a black grackle, perched on the outside of the windowsill.

  She recalled the bird from earlier. Also a grackle. And black. She took one step. The bird bounced back into the air and, after fluttering its wings and suspending itself in midair, it flew away. Same bird? Or just a coincidence?

  Hell, no, Della didn’t believe in coincidences. Who was watching her? And Chase? It had to be one of the shape-shifters here, didn’t it?

  She had no time to ponder. Something—or someone—heavy dropped on the cabin porch and the door to the cabin swung open with a whack. Della ran into the living room, her canines already lowering.

  * * *

  Kylie, obviously in vampire mode, stormed in. “What’s wrong?”

  Della breathed in and willed her fight mode to calm.

  “It’s Chase,” she said, glad to have Kylie here. “He was hurt.”

  She turned and ran into the bedroom. Kylie followed. Della stopped at Chase’s side and pulled the sheet down to show Kylie his wound. Amazingly, it looked even better than it had a few minutes ago.

  Baxter still rested on the other side of the bed, wagging his tail at Kylie’s presence.

  “It was bad, but he’s healing fast,” Della said. “Steve said there’s still a chance of him getting an infection. We don’t know how much blood he lost, which is probably why he’s still unconscious. Do you think you could help?”

  Kylie looked at Chase’s wound. “I don’t know if my healing abilities work on blood loss. I’m willing to try.”

  Della watched Kylie sit on the edge of the mattress and gently rest her hand on Chase’s shoulder.

  Just then Della’s phone dinged with a text. With it came another chirp from Chase’s jeans. She pulled her cell from her pocket. “It’s Burnett,” she told Kylie as she read the message.

  Have problems. Meet me at the office.

  “What did he say?” Kylie asked.

  “Not much, but it’s after eleven and he’s calling a meeting, so it can’t be good.”

  “Crappers.” Kylie stared at the jeans on the dresser that kept dinging. “It might be about Miranda’s feeling as if someone were spying. That’s why I didn’t come earlier: I went with her and forgot my phone.”

  “Oh, great!” Della said.

  Kylie sighed. “I think you’re going to have to tell him about Chase.”

  “Yeah,” Della snapped. “Isn’t that just peachy?” She looked back at the half-naked unconscious vampire then back to Kylie. “Can you stay here while I go get my ass chewed out by Burnett? It shouldn’t take long. He excels at it.”

  Kylie half grinned. “Sure, but you may want to change out of your bloody clothes.”

  Della looked down at the stains on her jeans and shirt. She hadn’t even noticed them. She gave Kylie instructions on how to care for Chase’s wounds.

  “I’ll take good care of him. I promise. Now go, before Burnett loses it.”

  Della flew out
of the bedroom, heading to her cabin for a wardrobe change, and then off to face the music.

  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 mov
e, 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.