Unspoken

  Tears filled her mom’s eyes. “I want to believe that, Della, but we have to be realistic.”

  Realistic? Della stared at the pain in her mom’s eyes. The realization kicked Della in the stomach. No, right in the heart. “Oh, God, you think…” Emotion filled her throat. “You think he did it. You think Daddy killed his sister? How could you believe that? You know him better than that.”

  “I don’t think…” Her mom swallowed hard. “It’s just the evidence—”

  “I don’t give a shit about the evidence. Dad didn’t do this.”

  “I believe that.” Her mom wiped a few tears from her lashes. “But honey, he doesn’t remember what happened. He was knocked unconscious. He can’t even testify to his innocence.”

  The room’s temperature instantly started falling. Falling fast. Only one thing could make a room go that cold, that quick. They had company. The dead kind.

  He was not unconscious!

  The words rang in Della’s head—for her ears only. She let her gaze shift up. There, in front of the window, midair, hung the ghost of her aunt. She wore the bloody gown again. It flowed back and forth as if some unfelt breeze stirred it. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she looked angrier than she was sad. She hadn’t shown herself since Della left Shadow Falls.

  Let my mother talk, Della said in her head.

  It was the first time her mom had said anything about her dad’s account. Her dad would never talk to Della about it, so this was as close as she could get to hearing it from him.

  “Tell me what happened, Mom.” The more Della knew, the better her chances of helping, but would her mother tell her?

  Her mom rubbed her hands up her arms, fighting the cold. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “No,” Della said. “I deserve to know.”

  “Honey, your father—”

  “I’m part of this family. It’s hurting all of us. We can’t keep secrets.”

  A tear slipped from her mom’s lashes. “That’s just it, I don’t know anything.” The cold caused steam to rise from her lips. Della hoped her mother couldn’t see it. “The only thing he’s told me is that he woke up when the paramedics were there. His sister was … dead. He said there was blood everywhere. To this day he has nightmares about it. He got so upset that his parents sent him to a psychologist and they committed him for a while at St. Mary’s.”

  “The mental institution?” Della asked.

  Her mom nodded.

  “Sharron,” her dad called out her mom’s name.

  Her mom’s gaze filled with guilt. She wiped her tears away. “Yes, hon. I’m in here.”

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs. He stopped in the doorway. His gaze went to Della and—as he always did when he saw her—he flinched. Maybe not physically, but mentally. He’d blink and his pupils would change sizes. What was it about her that caused him so much pain?

  “You’re home.” Disappointment echoed in his tone. His eyes shifted to her mom. “I thought she went out.” He tucked his hands into his pockets.

  “I came back. You were in the study so I didn’t bother you.” Della hoped she sounded normal, but it was hard when the ghost stood there, blood dripping from her white gown, staring at Della’s dad with murder in her eyes.

  “Why is it so cold up here?” he asked. “Have you been playing with the thermostat?”

  “No, sir,” Della said.

  He walked out. Della sat there, holding the hurt inside while freezing on the outside. Glancing back at the ghost, Della prayed that it didn’t start snowing. The ghost had done that once before.

  Her mom watched her dad leave. She stared at the empty doorway for a second before she turned back to Della. Relief and more guilt filled her mom’s eyes. She squeezed Della’s hand, as if in some kind of unspoken apology. Thankfully, it was so cold that the chill in her mom’s hands matched Della’s body temperature.

  Then her mom dropped Della’s hand and stood up. She was almost out the door when she looked back. “I just want you to be happy, baby.”

  With the sound of her mom’s footsteps treading down the stairs, Della glanced back at the angry ghost, who stood shaking her head.

  Lies. It’s all lies. He remembers. He remembers everything!

  “Do you remember?” Della asked, knowing how unreliable ghosts were. Apparently, death, especially a violent death, did a number on your psyche, making memory recall and communicating difficult.

  Enough to know he’s lying, she said.

  “You think he killed you?” Della asked.

  The spirit stood there, pain and regret so clear on her face.

  “What if it wasn’t my father, but your brother, Feng?”

  She tilted her head to the side as if remembering. No, Feng was already … He died. There was a car accident.

  Maybe it was time to tell her aunt the truth. “No, he’s vampire like me and your daughter, Natasha. Remember, you had me find Natasha? And there was Chan, too. Chan faked his own death to protect his parents from finding out that he was vampire. Just like Feng did.”

  Bao Yu’s eyes glazed over. A dead glaze. Did she not understand?

  “Tell me. Tell me exactly what happened.” Della braced herself to hear details. When her aunt still didn’t speak, Della added, “Or show me.” Her chest tightened at the suggestion. Ghosts could pull you into their thoughts, where you basically lived through their experiences. A month ago the ghost had given her a quick glimpse of that night. The vision of someone standing over her dead aunt with a knife. Someone who looked just like her father.

  If she could find her uncle, Burnett would attempt to get a supernatural judge on her father’s case. Maybe even get it dismissed. But they needed proof. They needed her uncle.

  “I’m serious,” Della said. “Show me.”

  It’s too ugly.

  Della clenched her fist. “In the vision you did show me, Feng was standing over you with a knife. Did he kill you? Think, Bao Yu. Think.”

  No. Feng, he … he didn’t have the … Chao, he … The spirit closed her eyes, as if reliving the vision. It wasn’t Feng. It was Chao.

  The apparition faded.

  Gone.

  Della muttered words her mom would ground her for saying.

  Then with her vampire hearing, she listened to her parents talking, whispering below. While it was rude, she popped out of bed and went to stand in the hall to listen. Her three weeks here had gained her nothing, no new information. How was she going to help figure things out if her parents wouldn’t confide in her?

  “Why?” her mom asked, speaking to her father. Her voice was a mere whisper, but her tone was tight, filled with angst. “Why do you treat her like that?”

  Della’s breath caught.

  “Like how?” Her father’s words bit back. “All I did was ask her if she’d messed with the thermostat.”

  “It’s not what you asked, it’s how. Didn’t you hear her answer, ‘No, sir’? Like you’re a drill sergeant. It’s as if everything you say to her is an accusation. She’s our daughter! Don’t you love her?”

  Della swallowed the painful lump.

  She waited for her father’s answer, afraid of his answer.

  “She’s just…”

  “Just what?” her mom asked.

  “She’s changed. She’s not the same.”

  Changed? Della leaned against the wall. Hell, yeah, she’d changed. She’d become a vampire, but he didn’t know that. And no way in hell could she tell them.

  “Of course she’s changed. She’s growing up.”

  “No, it’s more than that. And I did nothing wrong,” her father snapped. “I’ve got too much going on to worry about … this. I don’t understand why she’s here. It makes things harder. Send her back.”

  Della put her palm over her mouth. Tears, tears hotter than her skin, rolled over the back of her hand.

  “She’s here because she loves you!” her mother said. “Can’t you see that?”

  Footsteps sounde
d and the study door slammed in his wake.

  Della slid down the hall wall, hugged her knees, and sat there, letting herself cry. She’d come home because Marla, her sister, had begged her to. Now Della had to wonder. Would it be in the best interest of everyone if she went back to Shadow Falls?

  How many times would she have to be reminded? She didn’t belong here anymore.

  She stood up, walked back into her bedroom, and found her phone. She hit the name of someone she knew she could count on—someone who was becoming more of a father to her than the man downstairs.

  She called Burnett.

  Chapter Three

  Chase Tallman stood outside the entrance to Della’s house, his hands tightened in fists. Anger burned his eyes. Someone needed to teach that man a lesson, and damned if Chase wouldn’t like to volunteer for the job. Could he not see how much he was hurting his own daughter? The fact that he didn’t know his daughter was listening didn’t excuse shit.

  He could feel Della’s pain. Feel the knot curling up inside his chest.

  Parents were supposed to love you unconditionally. His had. He had never doubted it. Della deserved that too, damn it!

  Chase had landed on the house’s eaves, beside Della’s window. She hadn’t been in her room, but then he saw her outside her bedroom door, her shoulders dropped in defeat. Della Tsang didn’t do defeat. Behind that tough exterior, there was a vulnerability to her, but she seldom caved in. What was wrong?

  He jumped down beside the door, and overheard Chao Tsang’s hurtful words. Every single one of them.

  Maybe Feng Tsang, or Eddie Falkner as Chase had known the man who took him in after his parents’ death, was wrong. Maybe Chao had killed his sister. For Della’s sake he hoped not, but right now Chase didn’t have a high opinion of her father.

  He flew back up to the roof, wanting to comfort Della. Her taste, that quick kiss he’d stolen, still lingered on his tongue and he craved more. But all he wanted to do now was hold her. Console her.

  She had her back to the window, her phone to her ear, and obviously her guard down or she’d have sensed him.

  He tilted his head to see who she was talking to. With about ten feet and a glass pane separating them, all he could make out was that the voice was male.

  His memory shot back to Lilly mistaking him for Steve. That had stung. Had Della called Steve for comfort?

  “I need to come back to Shadow Falls. Can you call my father and tell him I’m falling behind on my grades?”

  So it was Burnett on the phone.

  She paused, then spoke again. “I don’t care. Make something up. He’ll agree to it.” Her shoulders tightened. “Yes, he will. He doesn’t want me here.” She held her breath. The pain sounded in her voice. “Tomorrow’s fine.”

  Chase exhaled a pound of frustration and fury. Fury aimed at her father for being such a bastard, and frustration because … Chase didn’t want her back at Shadow Falls.

  Considering Burnett’s distrust of Chase, if Della went back, it would be almost impossible for him to see her. These last three weeks away from her had been hell. Right then his need to be close to her pushed him to accept what he had to do.

  It would change everything, but it was the right thing. He’d have already done it, if Burnett hadn’t screwed things up.

  Chase considered opening her window and telling her his plans, but he recalled her anger at him. She’d try to stop him. He couldn’t let that happen.

  Knowing that Della would either hear him or catch his scent any second, he drew a heart in the condensation on the window and left.

  He’d gotten less than a mile when he picked up the scent of some weres … and blood. Diving low, the smell got stronger. Thankfully, it was animal blood. He pulled up higher and went to take care of business.

  * * *

  “What happened?” Burnett asked.

  Della gripped her phone tighter. “Nothing.”

  “Della?”

  Fine, it had been a lie. But not really. Sometimes “nothing” just meant it hurt too much to say it aloud. A creak sounded outside and she swung around. “Hold on a minute!” She shot to the window, lifted her nose. His scent held there. Then she saw the heart.

  “Damn,” she muttered.

  “What?” Burnett asked.

  She didn’t know why, but she wasn’t ready to tell Burnett about Chase. Embarrassment, probably, that she’d let him get away. Not because she wanted to protect Chase.

  She owed him nothing.

  Later, she’d tell Burnett. Hopefully after she’d gotten the information from Chase and knew her uncle’s whereabouts.

  “I thought I heard someone.” She leaned into the window and searched the sky.

  “And?” Burnett asked.

  “No one is here.”

  “When is the last time you fed?” he asked, probably thinking she wasn’t on top of her game. And he might even be right. She’d let Chase get away. Not once, but twice.

  “When?” he repeated.

  She knew he wouldn’t count the two bites of hamburger and three fries she’d had at the restaurant. No, he meant blood.

  “Tuesday.” She’d gone to the blood bar.

  “Can you get out of the house tonight? I’ll meet you with some blood at the park beside your house.”

  She hated that he felt as if he had to take care of her. “I can wait until I get back.”

  “No, it’s not healthy!”

  “Maybe I’ll go to the bar.” She wouldn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “No, don’t go to the bar tonight. It’s almost a full moon. Weres will be out and the supernatural bar is the first place they’ll go. I’ll meet you at the park beside your house.”

  Her stomach grumbled at the thought of blood, proving Burnett right. She needed to feed. But something about living back at home had her ignoring that hunger—as if doing without blood would somehow help her fit in with her family. Make her more human. Damn, she was pathetic.

  Her gaze fell on the fading heart, and she recalled another reason she couldn’t leave. What if Chase showed up again? “Really, I think I can wait. Why don’t—”

  “Della.” His tone was dead serious. One that said any argument would be futile.

  “Fine. But it will have to be later, when my parents go to bed.” Maybe by then Chase would have come back, or she would have found him.

  “I’ll text you with the details around midnight.” He hung up.

  Della slipped her phone into her back pocket and stared out at the night—feeling alone.

  The moon, almost full, hung in the dark sky. Her instinct nudged her a warning—giving more credence to Burnett’s caution. Weres were gathering strength from the lunar glow right now.

  While she no longer hated the species as a whole, her vampire predisposition would never let her trust a stray she might stumble upon. They could be rogue.

  But it wasn’t a were that worried her now, or what caused the empty spot in her chest. Nope, that would be her father and a conniving, lying vamp.

  Where are you, Chase? What kind of game are you playing this time?

  Why had he come and then disappeared? Why had he seemed so dad-blasted elated to see her? Did he know her uncle had killed her aunt? Did he know that she, Burnett, and the FRU were searching for the man? The same man who’d helped Chase survive being Reborn. Was Chase protecting him?

  He had to be, didn’t he? Why else would he have disappeared out of the blue after she texted him the photo of him and her uncle?

  She pressed her forehead to the cold glass pane, remembering their brief kiss, and fought the yin and yang emotions that came whenever she allowed herself to really think about Chase. Sentiments she spent a lot of energy denying, but that in brief moments, like right now, she couldn’t refute.

  That damn bond had emotionally tied her to him. Not that it changed anything.

  Was Chase smart enough to know that no matter what feelings she might harbor for him, given the choice
between him and her father, her father would win? It would probably be like ripping her heart out. But who needed a heart? The dang organ just caused problems.

  * * *

  Chase walked into a house in one of Houston’s middle-class suburban neighborhoods. Eddie had recently rented it under the name Jacob Mackey. He’d taken a month off from his position as a research scientist—a job the Vampire Council provided him. The position had saved not only his own life, but Chase’s, and Della’s, and those of about twenty other vampires who had gone through the rebirth stage in the last five years. Eddie was the doctor and scientist who had discovered the transfusion treatment, along with numerous lifesaving procedures that had helped their kind and others.

  Not only was Eddie dedicated to providing better health care for the vampire species, but he’d been Chase’s surrogate father since the plane crash. Then when Chase went through the rebirth, he’d willingly bonded with him. Chase owed him. And more importantly he loved him. Not that they expressed endearments, but actions spoke louder than words.

  Which was why this was all going to be so difficult.

  Chase moved into the living room, where Eddie sat in his old brown recliner—the only piece of furniture that he moved with him whenever he relocated. On the end table was the framed photo that also went with him. Kirsha. Eddie’s bond mate that had died only a year after they’d been together.

  Baxter came running and nudged Chase’s leg with his nose.

  Eddie held a newspaper in his hands, and only when Chase dropped down on the sofa did Eddie look up.

  He studied Chase. Eddie could read him so well, it was pointless to try and hide anything. Not that Eddie hadn’t ever had secrets from him. Until Della had told him about Bao Yu, he hadn’t known about the murder.

  “What’s got your eyes so bright, son?”

  “Chao Tsang, your twin. Perhaps you have it wrong. Maybe he did kill your sister.”

  Eddie sat up, lowering the recliner with a firm thump. His expression was serious. “That’s ridiculous. I told you what happened. We find Douglas Stone and we’ll have our proof.”