Reborn

  There were no more games now. No more father-daughter time. But maybe, just maybe, if she was right, she might find a man who was as good as her father. A man who would understand the difficulties she faced. A man who might care about her now that her father had turned his back on her.

  She knelt down in front of the cabinet. If she recalled correctly, the book was in the back behind her father’s favorite brandy. She pulled the brandy out and reached deeper in the cabinet. When her hand touched the smooth, dry-feeling old leather, her heart beat a little faster.

  She pulled it out, sat on the floor, and opened it up in her lap. She needed a light to make out the images. She remembered that her dad used to keep a flashlight in his desk for when the lights went out. She stood up, opening the drawer quietly.

  She found the flashlight, but it was what else she found in the drawer that had her breath catching: the picture of her and her dad playing chess at a tournament. At one time he’d kept it on the shelf. She looked up at the bookcase where the image had once rested. The spot was as empty as she felt.

  Suddenly more determined than ever to find her uncle, she went back to the floor.

  She brought the book on her lap and opened it up. She turned on the flashlight and shined it at the book. The images were old, faded, and even with the light she had to squint to make them out.

  Mixed into the book were some old photos of her mom’s family. She continued to flip through the album, turning the pages carefully, seeing faces that somehow looked familiar even though she didn’t know them. In the shapes of the faces, or cuts of chins, she saw bits of her parents and bits of herself in these people.

  Almost to the end, she found a picture of her grandmother and her dad with another boy that looked just like him. She pulled back the plastic flap and carefully pulled the image out. Thin from age, it felt as if it might tear. She held her breath and gently peeled it off the album, praying that on the back she’d find names. When she turned it over she saw the writing. Her heart paused in mid-beat as she read: Feng and Chao Tsang with mother. Her father’s name was Chao. Feng must have been her uncle’s name. The image appeared to have been taken in Houston, which meant her uncle would have been here when he’d been turned … or killed. But if he truly had been turned, he could still be here. In Houston. Or at least in America.

  She carefully tucked the image into her pajama pocket. As she went to put the book away, she saw another picture tucked behind the flap in the back. She pulled it out. It was a group of kids, two boys and two girls. The picture was grainy, but when she looked harder she thought it was her father and his twin and two girls. One of them looked like her aunt. She turned the photo over, but no names were written on this one. Slipping the picture back, she put the book up, and was replacing the brandy in the cabinet when the light in the room flashed on.

  “Shit!” she muttered and turned, completely shocked that for the second time tonight, someone had walked up on her. What was up with her hearing? She expected, or maybe hoped, it would be Marla again, but her hopes were futile.

  Her father, anger in his eyes, stared down at her. “So now you have resorted to stealing your father’s brandy, have you?”

  His anger, even his accusation, she could have handled. It was the disappointment in his eyes that had her wanting to take a running dive out the window. She longed to get far away from him and this life she’d once loved but had now lost.

  She didn’t. She did what she always did with her parents. She stood up and simply let them think the worst of her, because the truth would have hurt them more.

  “You’re here early,” Burnett said, meeting her right after she stepped through the Shadow Falls front gate after being dropped off by her mother. Her mom, who’d not spoken once on the trip. Not that they hadn’t said plenty before they’d left. And not that it was anything new. It was the same ol’ litany.

  “Yeah,” she said, not wanting to talk. Or at least not wanting to talk to him. Not only was Burnett the camp leader, but he worked for the FRU—the Fallen Research Unit, a part of the FBI that oversaw the supernatural community. A job Della herself wanted. A job she knew she’d be good at, in spite of how vulnerable she felt right now. She’d already assisted on one job, and waited for another opportunity. So appearing weak in front of Burnett wouldn’t be prudent. She knew who she wanted and needed to see right now—a certain shape-shifter who always said the right thing But chances were, he wasn’t here yet.

  “Is something wrong?” Burnett asked, his steps matching her fast and furious pace.

  “No,” she lied, not caring if he could hear her heart race to the lie or not. Or hell, maybe her heart was too broken to read. It sure felt like it.

  “Della, stop and talk to me,” Burnett said, using his authoritative tone.

  “About what?” Della asked, using her pissy tone. She’d kissed ass all weekend, she didn’t have the patience to be interrogated by the camp leader right now.

  All of a sudden, Holiday, the other camp leader and Burnett’s wife, came wobbling up, her belly swollen with child. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, I simply want to go to my cabin.”

  “You’re here early,” Holiday said.

  “Is that a crime? Do you want me to leave and come back in about four hours? I can.”

  “No, what we want is for you to tell us what’s wrong,” Burnett seethed.

  “There’s not a damn thing wrong,” Della insisted.

  “Then why are you crying?” Holiday asked.

  Was she crying? She reached up and felt her wet face. “Allergies,” she blurted out.

  Burnett moaned in pure frustration. “Don’t lie to—”

  “Let’s calm down.” Holiday touched the hard-ass vampire on his forearm. Amazing how one touch from the fae and Burnett cratered. Of course, a fae’s touch could be ultra-persuasive, but Della figured it was more his love for Holiday that kept the man in line than her powers.

  “Everything is fine.” Della ground her back teeth when she saw Holiday’s expression of pure empathy. Della hated that look.

  “But,” Holiday continued, “if you need anything you know you can call me.” She reached out and rested a hand on Della’s arm. The warmth, the calm flowing from the touch took the edge off Della’s emotions. But not enough. Nothing would take this away.

  “Thanks,” she offered, and took off in a dead run before Burnett decided to argue with his pregnant wife. Before Burnett saw even more of Della’s weakness and decided she wasn’t capable of working FRU cases.

  “Remember, we’re here if you need…” Holiday’s words became background music to Della as she lit out.

  The only thing Della needed was to be left alone. She ran faster, feeling her blood rush as her feet slowly started pulling off the ground and she was half running, half flying. She purposely didn’t speed up to full flight; the thump of her feet on the ground felt like a much-needed release. It didn’t matter that with each slap of her foot to the earth, her head throbbed. And her heart ached more.

  Arriving at the fork in the trail that led to her cabin, she chose not to take it. She wasn’t finished expending the pent-up emotions humming inside her. She dropped her backpack beside a tree to claim it later and headed north through the woods, knocking branches and even some limbs away with the backs of her forearms.

  She came to the end of the property, and almost jumped the fence, but knowing the alarm would blow and it would bring Burnett nipping at her heels, she turned and headed east. She made the lap around the property twice, and was just about to head back to the trail that led to her cabin when she heard it. The pounding of another set of footsteps. Footsteps that came toward her. Right toward her.

  A minuscule amount of relief came with knowing that her hearing was back in working order. She focused in the direction the sound came. She couldn’t see the owner of those footsteps due to the thicket of trees. She lifted her nose in the air ever so slightly. The scent was vampire. But not a Shado
w Falls vampire. She would have recognized it if it was.

  Had she happened upon an intruder? Some rogue vamp out to cause trouble for Shadow Falls? Instantly feeling territorial to protect the only home she had, she felt her fangs lower. The thought of facing some scumbag sent a thrill through her. In her mood, it would feel so good to kick someone’s butt. Especially someone’s butt she didn’t have to feel guilty for kicking.

  The sounds of the footsteps faltered. Had they heard her? Smelled her? When the sound of steps suddenly faded as if they ran from her instead of in her direction, she knew she’d been right.

  “Run as fast you can,” she muttered. “It’ll just make it more fun. But I will catch you!” She went into full vamp mode, flying over the tops of the trees to catch her prey. While running used muscles, flying used a different kind of energy. Every muscle in her body had to be clenched and focused.

  The terrain below her became a blur at the breakneck speed she moved.

  All of a sudden, she realized the intruder had stopped running and had gone into hiding. Was the vamp stupid? Did the rogue not know she was vampire and could sniff him out? She landed at a clearing by the lake. The scent came from the woods, just behind the trees.

  The thought occurred to her that Burnett should be storming in any second. The rogue had to have jumped the gate. The alarm was no doubt blaring.

  She only hoped she got first dibs on the intruder, maybe even had the problem completely contained before the camp leader showed up. After being caught crying, she’d like to prove she wasn’t a wimp to Burnett. Prove she was capable to assist with other cases.

  “I can smell you,” she called out. “Just come out and make it easy on yourself.” See, she was fair. “Or don’t come out. And I’ll come in and get your ass.”

  She stepped closer to the line of trees, watching, waiting for an attack.

  She could swear she heard a twig snap. She started forward, letting her nose guide her. The closer she got, the vamp’s aroma became familiar. Not … a Shadow Falls member, but this wasn’t the first time she’d inhaled this certain scent. She had his scent in her sensory bank. A feeling of leeriness pulled at her chest. A sensation that wherever, whenever, she’d come across this vampire before, it hadn’t been good.

  The hair stood up on the back of her neck. Her headache retuned. She continued forward, seeing a thick patch of underbrush. Her instincts said the intruder hid there. A tad spooked by the negative déjà vu, she took a deep breath, giving Burnett one more second to show up.

  Suddenly, realizing her pause to be a sure sign of weakness, she surged forward, landing in the middle of the brush, growling. Nothing scurried out. But she saw something in the midst of the thorns. A blue piece of cotton. A shirt. Had the scoundrel removed his shirt to throw her off the scent?

  Yeah, he had. Unfortunately, it had worked. She lifted her face into the air to find another trace. The scent hit the same time the voice did. Coming right behind her.

  “You looking for me?”

  Chapter Two

  Della turned, feeling her canines extend even more. A dark-haired boy with pale, pale green eyes stood a few feet away. He wore a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, probably an undershirt to the one he left in the brush. Her gaze whispered down the white cotton spread tight over a sinewy chest and wide shoulders. Not that his chest or his shoulders mattered, she reminded herself, and cut her eyes back up to his face.

  She’d been certain of his vampire scent, but the facts that his fangs weren’t extended and that the situation hadn’t colored his eyes had her squinting at his forehead to check his pattern. Definitely vampire. She saw him checking out her pattern, too. But he still didn’t react to the situation at hand.

  Didn’t he know enough to be afraid?

  “You are trespassing on Shadow Falls property,” she barked.

  He quirked an eyebrow at her. “You think so?”

  His smartass demeanor ticked her off and she bolted forward, giving his muscled chest a good push. He landed on his ass. Hard. Shock filled his expression.

  Satisfied, she tilted her head to the side. “Yeah, I think so.”

  He popped up, flew across the few feet separating them, and landed inches from her. He leaned down and put his face right into hers. “You’re feisty for a little thing, aren’t you?”

  She had to give him credit for his bravery. Or perhaps stupidity. Sure, he stood a head above her. Not that his size intimidated her.

  And to prove it, she went to give him another shove, but he caught her. His fingers locked around her wrists like vise grips. She went to jerk away but he held her tight. His eyes brightened and she saw a touch of his canines appearing below his upper lips.

  Good. At least now he knew she meant business. “Release me!” she seethed.

  When he didn’t do it instantly, she went into full attack mode. She swung her knee up to smash his balls. He released one of her hands to catch her rising knee. Which had been her hope all along. She didn’t like being that close to anyone’s genitals—especially someone she didn’t know. She caught his free arm and slung him about twenty feet in the air. In spite of being caught off guard, he landed on his feet, his canines now fully extended, his eyes a bright yellow.

  “What is it you are trying to prove?” he asked, moving toward her without an ounce of fear.

  That I have what it takes to be an FRU agent. “That scum like you doesn’t belong on Shadow Falls property,” she said, and swayed from the balls of her feet to her heels, her plan to shoot forward again. Only this time she was going for blood.

  “Stop, Della!” a deep voice commanded behind her.

  She recognized the voice instantly.

  “What took you so long? I found this rogue trespassing,” she said, cutting Burnett a quick glance back, glad he’d gotten the chance to see her in action.

  “Did you bother asking him if he was trespassing?” Burnett spat out the question.

  “Sort of.” Bullcrappy! Della flinched with the knowledge that it sounded like she’d screwed up.

  Burnett’s stern gaze shot to the other vamp. “Did you tell her you weren’t trespassing?”

  So was the guy like a new student? She didn’t ask, because that would be the only thing that made sense.

  “Did you?” Burnett repeated his question.

  The nontrespassing piece of crap shrugged. “Sort of.”

  Burnett held out his hands as if exasperated. “Then I guess it’s sort of both of your faults for starting this shit,” he fumed. “Can I trust you enough to go back to what I was doing, or do I need to babysit you two?” His gaze flipped from the brown-haired boy to her.

  Della frowned, only willing to accept part of the blame for this. She stared right at the camp leader. “You should have told me you had someone new on the premises.”

  “I would have told you if you hadn’t run off.” And with that, Burnett flew away.

  She turned and faced the newcomer. A half-assed apology sat on the tip of her tongue, but then she remembered that sensation, the feeling she’d come across him before. Inhaling, she knew now that his trace was definitely in her sensory bank. But from where? And why did his scent stir up negative feelings in her?

  She almost asked him if they’d met, but she suddenly didn’t feel like talking to the guy whose butt she’d wanted to kick a minute ago. Without a word, she turned and started back to her cabin.

  “Nice to have met you,” he called out in his smartass tone.

  She didn’t turn around, or say a word, but she shot her hand back and gave him the third-finger salute.

  His laughter only managed to piss her off more.

  Della went right to bed, her heart still hurting from the visit with her family. In spite of thinking she wouldn’t, she managed to sleep. She’d still be asleep if Kylie and Miranda hadn’t come in and started pounding on her door. What part about vampires sleeping better during the day didn’t they get? Then again, she was eager to see them, too. As long as she ha
d her friends, who cared what her parents thought about her. Right?

  “Coming,” she said when their pounding started up again.

  She swung open the door and Kylie and Miranda rushed in for a hug. Not a hugger, she wanted to insist. Instead, she rolled her eyes and let them get it out of their systems. And damn it if she didn’t draw some pleasure from it, too.

  “Why didn’t you call us?” Kylie asked, concern filling her eyes and voice. The blonde, a chameleon, was a rare supernatural who could transform into different species. On top of that, Kylie was a protector—meaning she couldn’t protect herself, but if anyone tried to hurt someone she cared about, her powers were phenomenal. Majorly phenomenal.

  “Because my phone died and I forgot to bring my charger,” Della explained.

  “You never forget anything,” Miranda, the witch, said.

  Miranda was right. Della didn’t forget stuff. What was wrong with her? She’d felt off for the last week. She reached back and touched the pimple that had brought on the weird nightmares. It was almost gone. Good.

  Realizing they were both staring at her, she made a face. “So shoot me for forgetting something just this once.”

  Kylie sighed. “We were just worried. How bad was it?”

  “Did they make you take some more pregnancy tests?” Miranda asked.

  “No.” Della sighed. “But I’ll need a Diet Coke if I’m going to spill my guts.” She started toward the fridge. “How was y’all’s weekend?”

  “I’ll need a Diet Coke, too,” Miranda said. “I swear my mom’s the biggest B with an itch in the world. All she talked about was her friend’s daughter winning all the Wicca competitions. Please, I don’t want to win those stupid contests. So what if Little Miss Suzie can turn a grasshopper into a firefly. I’m glad I’m dyslexic.”