Reborn

  Another pain hit; this one shot from her neck down her back. It felt as if her spine were breaking. She gritted her teeth to keep from crying.

  When it passed, she gasped for air. He brushed a hand over her forehead. “You don’t have to be brave. I know it hurts like hell.”

  A second later, she felt a damp cloth move over her forehead. The gentle touch reminded her of Chan. He’d been there for her. The first time. That’s when something occurred to her. “It doesn’t work,” she said.

  “What doesn’t work?” Chase asked.

  “The bond thing. You were with Chan. You couldn’t save him.”

  Chase’s expression tightened. “I didn’t do it.”

  The grief she felt for her cousin bubbled up inside her along with the pain. “You let him die?”

  Guilt came and left Chase’s eyes. “I tried to save him, but he wasn’t like you.” He looked at the door as if impatient. “How long does it take to get from the vet’s office?”

  She didn’t answer. “What do you mean he wasn’t like me? He was my cousin. We’re from the same bloodline.”

  “Same bloodline, yes, but he was weak. No spirit. No fire in his belly. You push yourself. You’re a fighter. He had no fight in him.”

  “Chan fought for me. He pulled me through the first turn. He didn’t owe me anything, but he stayed with me. He cared. If not for him, I don’t know what would have happened.”

  “I didn’t say he wasn’t a good person. I said he was weak. I tried to get to him to run, tried to help prepare him for what he was going to endure. He wouldn’t even try. He lay there and let himself get sicker. Even if I’d bonded with him, the chances of him surviving were so damn low. And I’d have…”

  “You’d have what?” she asked, finding it hard to breathe.

  “He wouldn’t have survived. He had no fight in him. And if I’d tried, I wouldn’t have been able to…”

  “To what? And how do you know he wouldn’t have survived if you didn’t even try? You let him die.”

  Chase exhaled. “I wanted to save him, I couldn’t.”

  Her head pounded; her heart ached. “I don’t want your blood in me.”

  The front door swung open and slammed against the wall. Della could barely sit up, but she did enough to see Steve storm in. He growled, a low ominous sound, aimed at Chase; then he rushed between them and dropped to his knees beside her.

  She felt his hand on her brow. “You’re burning up.” He slid one arm under her. “I’m taking you to Dr. Whitman’s office.”

  “No, you’re not,” Chase said behind him. “Put her down!”

  Steve pulled away.

  Pain gripped her midsection and she curled up in the fetal position.

  Through tear-filled eyes, she watched Steve charge Chase. Magical bubbles spilled from the shape-shifter, no doubt his plan to change into something fierce.

  Chase grabbed Steve before he completed the change and pushed him against the wall.

  “Listen to me before you morph yourself into something that can’t reason. If you don’t want Della to die, you’re going to have to do exactly what I say. I know what I’m talking about. It’s why I came here.” Chase looked back over his shoulder at her. “And we’re running out of time.”

  Out of time. Out of time.

  She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, Chan stood beside her. He smiled that crooked silly grin of his. And this time it felt different. He wasn’t here with her. She was with him. Clouds floated past.

  It was okay, she thought. Death didn’t suck nearly as bad as she thought it would. And Holiday was alive.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Della must have passed out. Or maybe not completely out. She heard Chase explaining things to Steve, but it sounded like they were walking away, getting farther and farther from her. Or maybe she was the one leaving. And it was okay. She let herself be swept away.

  Something woke her up, or brought her back. She felt a prick in the center of both her arms. Something warm flowing through one of the needles into her vein.

  Tightening her eyes, she longed for something. What was it?

  Then she knew. It was that place. A place of lightness, and light. Soft breezes and calm. She remembered Chan. Being with him.

  Instinctively, she knew she wasn’t with him now. Vaguely, she recalled him waving to her through the clouds. Good-bye. It had been good-bye. She’d pleaded for him to stop moving away, but then realized he wasn’t the one leaving. She was. “No,” she said, realizing what it all meant. Worried about the consequences. It had been her deal with God—to save Holiday and the baby. But something, maybe gravity, had pulled her back.… No, not gravity. It had been figures. Two of them, wearing long robes, and as they brought her back the one with light blue eyes had whispered, “Not your time.” Then she heard it. The water. The falls.

  Death angels.

  Right then she realized she wasn’t so cold anymore.

  “Hey.” Steve’s voice had her opening her eyes. He knelt beside her, checking the needle taped to her arm. His brow bore deep worry lines, and his eyes were filled with concern.

  She blinked. More awake, she realized that pain still gripped her chest, but not nearly as bad. She saw the catheter in her arm and realized what was happening.

  “Stop it,” she said, her voice nothing more than a whisper, and she tried to pull the needle out of her arm.

  “No.” Steve caught her hand. “What Chase said makes sense, Della. You’re getting his antibodies. Your fever’s dropping.”

  She wet her lips. They felt so dry. “He said I’d be … bonded to him.”

  Steve’s grimace deepened as if Chase had told him this, too. “I won’t let that happen.” He brushed her hair from her sweaty brow.

  She heard a moan, and turning her head, she saw Chase. Stretched out on the table, he looked unconscious. “What’s happening?” she asked.

  “Your blood is going into him, he’s going through what you were.”

  She continued to stare at Chase. His back arched in pain. Her pain. He shouldn’t have to … “Stop it,” she said, and again tried to pull the needle from her arm.

  “We can’t stop it.” Steve caught her hand. “He made that very clear. If I stop it now, he’ll die. He has to go through with it to survive.”

  She closed her eyes, but hearing Chase’s moans sent a memory of the severest pain coursing through her body. Tears filled her eyes. Why had he done this?

  She swallowed, her throat raw. He had saved her, but why hadn’t he done it for Chan?

  He was too weak. She heard Chase’s words, but it still hurt.

  Steve touched a moist cloth to her lips as if he knew how thirsty she was. “You’re still running a fever, but it’s coming down. You should be fine soon. Just rest now.”

  He pressed a kiss to her brow. “I’ll take care of you. I’m right here.” But even as he said it, she felt the blood being pumped into her veins. Chase’s blood.

  Bonded.

  The smell, it was hideous. Something touched her nose, and she went to wipe it away and heard a loud crash. She tried to open her eyes; they felt dry, raw. Her tongue felt stuck to the roof of her mouth.

  “I told you the garlic wasn’t a good idea,” a voice said. “She didn’t mean to knock you down. Now can you please take it out of here?”

  She recognized the voice, but it wasn’t Steve’s. Was it … Chase’s?

  She remembered hearing him moan. Remembered thinking he might die. That wouldn’t have been right.

  Forcing her eyelids open, she realized she wasn’t on the sofa any longer, but in a bed. She looked around, having to squint to focus. Holiday’s bedroom.

  Burnett sat in a chair beside the bed. Something moved on the floor. She lifted her head slightly and saw it was Dr. Whitman. She didn’t mean to knock you down. Burnett’s words echoed in her head.

  Had she done that?

  Burnett leaned in and studied her. “She’s awake,” he said to th
e doctor. “Can you leave us?”

  “You sure it’s safe?” the doctor asked as he got to his feet.

  “I’ll be fine.” Burnett looked at her.

  Della ran her dry tongue over her parched lips. “Where’s Chase?”

  Burnett frowned. “He’s gone.”

  She lifted her head off the pillow as emotion filled her chest. He’d died saving her. Grief, real and deep, took over her lungs and made it almost impossible to breathe. “He died?” It felt as if her heart had been yanked out. An empty hole left in her chest where it had once beat.

  “No,” Burnett said. “He left. Probably didn’t want to face me.”

  The sense of loss didn’t go away. Less grief and more … anger. He left her? Saved her life and then ran off? What kind of person did that?

  Burnett held out some water. “Drink. I know you’re thirsty.”

  She reached for it but quickly he pulled it back.

  “Easy,” he said, “or you’ll break it.”

  She made a face and caught the glass in her hand. It shattered in her grasp. “Crap,” she muttered, and stared down at the glass and water on her chest.

  Burnett grimaced. “I warned you.” He stood up. “Don’t move, I’ll get it.”

  He pulled a trash can over and, using a towel, carefully removed the glass. “It will take some time to get used to it.” He dropped back in the chair and reached for her hand to check for injuries. There were none, or if there had been, they had already healed.

  “Used to what?” Her head still spun in a fog. Her heart still ached with abandonment.

  “Your new powers.”

  She closed her eyes and recalled Chase saying something about that, but so much of what happened was a blur. Normally, the idea of more powers would have had her jumping up and down, but not now.

  It seemed somehow insignificant. Chase was gone.

  She sat up. Maybe she could find him. “Where did he go?”

  “Who, Steve?”

  “No. Chase. Do you know where he went?”

  “No.” Burnett stared at her as if something was wrong.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing. I just … I don’t understand this part.”

  What part was he talking about? She shook her head. “Would you mind explaining what part you do understand? Because I’m pretty much in the dark here. And a little damn light would be appreciated.”

  He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I was fourteen. I got sick. The pain was excruciating. My foster parents took me to a doctor, but I don’t even remember that. They said I almost died. When I woke up, I was a hell of a lot stronger than I used to be. That’s most of what I remember.”

  He paused and took a deep breath. “All supernatural doctors are registered. And when my report came across the FRU table, I got my first visit from an agent.”

  Bits and pieces of what Chase had told her started coming back, and suddenly she realized what Burnett was saying. “You’re a Reborn.”

  He nodded.

  “But I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you have said anything? I know you are strong, but I’ve never seen you do what … Chase can do.”

  “You can’t tell anyone either, Della. The vampire society—mainly the rogue society, but even some of the good guys—maintain an Old West mentality. The fastest gun in town is nothing but a challenge. Someone’s always looking to best you.”

  He glanced down at his folded hands and then back up. “Look what happened when Chase showed too much of his power at the bar. The gang leader called him out. Your powers are a gift, but one you should downplay constantly and only use in dire emergencies. You don’t have to pretend to be weak, but you never show all your cards. To do otherwise puts your life, and those you love, in jeopardy. It’s worse than being a protector, which is seen as something honorable. This is viewed as someone being a badass. It makes you fair game.”

  She shut her eyes a minute, hearing what he was saying, but it didn’t seem to be the thing she needed to worry about. She willed herself to remember everything that had happened and tried to put the pieces together. “You knew Chase was a Reborn,” she said. “How?”

  Burnett nodded. “I saw him flying the first day he showed up here—which he shouldn’t have done in a place anyone could have seen him. I immediately started investigating him. I worried there was a reason he was here. Then I was hoping it was just to get involved with the FRU. I didn’t know he was here because of you.”

  “He was here because of me?” Her voice came out raspy, dry. The question had just left her lips when she remembered. He said he’d been looking for someone and then he’d admitted it was her.

  “Yes.” He picked up the water pitcher and poured another glass. He handed it to her. “He told Steve he’d been sent here to make sure you survived.”

  She took the glass carefully. Her mind spun. She took a small sip. It actually burned her throat, and so did her next thought. Chase had suffered for her. Endured the pain. Then it hit: He’d done it for her, but not for Chan. “Chase could have saved Chan?”

  Burnett nodded. “I don’t think it was his fault, Della. Chase told Steve that Chan was too weak. His odds of survival were very low. That it only works if the Reborn is strong enough. I don’t know if all of this is true, this transfusion procedure is new, but at this point it makes sense.”

  Della’s heart gripped. She didn’t know whether to be grateful or angry. Maybe both.

  “Perhaps Chase could only save one of you. And he chose the one he knew would have the best chance of survival.”

  A new emotion crowded Della’s chest. She knew this one well. Guilt. Chase could only save one and he’d chosen her. She’d lived and Chan had died.

  “That said,” Burnett continued, “I think the bigger question is who sent him?”

  My uncle and aunt. That’s was the only thing that made sense. And maybe when she had a chance to process this, she’d tell Burnett. But not now.

  “It was reported a few years back that a doctor, not one working with the FRU, was researching Reborns to see if he could offer a better survival rate. In the report, it stated the condition was thought to be hereditary.”

  Burnett paused. “I took a personal interest in discovering all I could about it when Holiday got pregnant. If my own child fell prey to this, I’d go to the end of the earth to save her. But all I could dig up was vague reports.”

  For the first time, Della thought of Holiday and Hannah and she felt selfish for it. “How are they?”

  “They are fine. Beautiful,” he said, his eyes lighting up with love. He paused. “The truth is, I’ve learned more about this process today than was in any of our files. I’m sorry you had to go through it, but it’s given us a lot of information. So you may have saved my daughter’s life twice. And for that I’m eternally grateful. If Holiday wasn’t so set on the name Hannah, I’d give her your first name, too.”

  Della offered him a weak smile and swallowed another sip of water.

  A few minutes of silence passed. “Phillip Lance was arrested. He confessed to killing Lorraine and her boyfriend. You did an excellent job, Della. You are going to make one hell of an agent someday.”

  She nodded and tried to draw pleasure from it, but no pleasure came. Her thoughts shot back to Chase. And she asked the question that for some reason concerned her the most. “The bonding thing, do you know about that?”

  Burnett sighed. “I’m sorry. Steve mentioned this, but I haven’t heard of it before.” He paused a minute. “Does it concern you? Do you feel any differently about Chase now than you did before?”

  “No.” She heard and felt her heart jump.

  And so did Burnett.

  She wanted to deny it. “He saved me. He gave up some of his power and endured the pain for me. It’s understandable that I’d be grateful, right?”

  “I’d believe so,” Burnett said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

  She swallowed, her throat still parch
ed. Her thoughts shot back to her cousin. “He should have tried to save Chan.” Tears filled her eyes. “It only makes me feel worse. Chan helped me through the first turn, and because of me, because I was a little stronger than he was, he was passed over.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “Is that fair? I lived, and he died.”

  “No,” Burnett said. “But life is seldom fair.” He dropped a hand to her arm. “But I can tell you what is fair. You are still with us. And…” He pointed to the door. “In the living room are several very concerned friends of yours who are also grateful that you are alive. Kylie and Miranda haven’t left this cabin for two days.”

  “Two days?” she asked. “I’ve been out for two days?” Her next thought was how long ago Chase had left, but she didn’t want to ask it. Didn’t want to think about him, but she couldn’t seem to help it. What did that mean? Or did it mean anything at all?

  Burnett nodded. “We were all getting worried. And, I know they are all ready to see you, but are you ready to see them?”

  No, she thought, but nodded. If it were Kylie or Miranda in here, she’d be freaking out.

  “Remember, Steve knows all of this. The doctor knows some of it. And I’m aware you share everything with Kylie and Miranda, and even though I can’t tell you not to, in this case, I’ll suggest you don’t.”

  Keep secrets from her two best friends? She didn’t think so.

  After freshening up, Della nodded to Burnett, who stood in the back of the room and opened the bedroom door. They all came barreling in. Kylie, looking panicked, came in first. Miranda, a close second, with tears in her eyes, followed. Perry stood at her side. Steve moved in behind them, and then Jenny and Derek. She even saw Lucas hanging in the back.

  Friends. She had a butt-load of them.

  Miranda, the perpetual hugger, dropped on the bed, and when she tried to do her thing, Della held up her hand. “I’m fine.” Right then, she looked up and met Steve’s gaze. He winked at her, but she saw something else there. Fear. And she knew exactly what he feared.