Eternal

Read Eternal Online

Authors: C. C. Hunter

BOOK: Eternal
7.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you for your personal use only. You may not make this e-book publicly available in any way.
Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author's copyright, please notify the publisher at:

us.macmillanusa.com/piracy
.

 

To Lily, who, if she's said it once, she's said it a thousand times, “Mawmaw, tell me a story.”

 

I can't wait, young lady, until you can read Kylie and Della's stories.

 

Acknowledgments

To all the fans who write just to let me know that my stories keep them up at night and make them think about the value of friends, love, and laughter. Thank you for reading.

Here's to all the family and friends who make my life complete. You know who you are. And each and every one of you is a cornerstone in my life.

To my agent, Kim Lionetti, who encourages me to follow my gut. To my editor, Rose Hilliard, whose faith in me is inspirational. Thank you.

 

Contents

Title Page

Copyright Notice

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Teaser

Also by C. C. Hunter

Praise for the Author

About the Author

Copyright

 

Chapter One

Della Tsang swung one leg outside her bedroom window. The sun had risen but hung on the eastern horizon, spilling just enough light to paint that strip of sky a blood-red. The color had her mouth watering.

Her empty stomach rumbled. She needed blood. Later.

First things first.

She knew what she had to do—hadn't slept half the night because of it.

A blast of late-October air stirred her black hair in front of her eyes. The wind was cold on her face, but not cold like when she'd had the fever.

Since she'd woken from the two-day coma after being Reborn, which was an unusual second transition into being a vampire, all her previous flu-like symptoms had disappeared.

Pushing off the window ledge, her boots hit the wet earth with a squish. She paused right outside the cabin to see if the sound had awoken her Shadow Falls roommates, Miranda or Kylie, almost hoping for some company.

Only silence filled her ears.

They'd both stayed out late last night with their boyfriends. Della had seen Steve, too, but she'd pulled the tired card and called it an early night. She took a small step, still listening for any sign they were awake.

I don't need them. I don't.
Della had to do this on her own.

Alone.

That had been her mantra for the last week. Well, not exactly—more like:
Not with Chase
. The lying, conniving vamp whom she'd unwillingly become bonded to when he'd convinced Steve, Della's almost-boyfriend, to let him mingle his blood with hers to up the odds of her surviving the so-called rebirth.

Bonded. She recalled what little information Chase had explained.
It links the two vampires. They become almost a part of each other. It has been compared to the relationship shared by identical twins or perhaps soul mates.

Pushing that from her mind, she glanced again at the dark woods, sensing something waiting for her … calling her. There was no turning back.

Reaching around, she closed her bedroom window. A twig snapped from inside the woods. Della turned and faced the trees, inhaling the air to catch anyone's scent.

Nothing but the wet, musky scent of a possum.

She started walking. As soon as she entered the woods, the night's noise vanished. Even the trees seemed to hold their breath. A carrier of the vampire virus, she'd been turned almost a year ago. This second turn, extremely rare, meant she was stronger, faster—meant she could really kick ass and ask questions later.

She'd give the power back in a snap if it would bring Chan back.

Perhaps she should be appreciative for what Chase had done, making sure she lived, but she would've preferred he'd done it for her cousin Chan. Burnett, the camp leader and another Reborn, had survived his rebirth without a transfusion; she probably could have as well. Plus, Chase had done it so secretively and had lied to her until the very end.

The real pisser was—he hadn't stopped lying.

She'd texted him the question:
Who sent you to check on me and Chan?

His reply:
Don't know. Just following orders,
was bullshit.

He'd messaged her last night.
Five minutes … give me five minutes. I'm at the gate.

She'd replied,
Until I get answers, I don't have five minutes for you.

Not until he came clean. The guy had more secrets than a rogue werewolf had fleas.

If her suspicions were correct, and she'd bet her canines they were, he had information about her missing uncle who'd gotten turned and faked his own death as a teen. Who else would care about her? Who else would know Chan was her cousin? And if it was her uncle calling the shots, why hadn't he cared enough to save Chan, too?

Thinking of her uncle had her automatically thinking of her father and how easily he'd turned his back on her. Adding to her heartache was the discovery that he'd been suspected of killing his own sister.

Her mind couldn't wrap around that. Her father couldn't, wouldn't have done that.

She continued walking, her footsteps soggy. The night had seen its share of rain. Instead of sleeping, she'd listened to the sound of drizzle dancing on the tin roof of the cabin. But that wasn't the only sound of water she'd heard.

The roar of the falls had echoed in the distance. There was no way, even with her vampire hearing, that she could hear the falls from her cabin. Which meant the falls were calling her.

The falls, being that magical but creepy place where the death angels—mystical beings who stood in judgment of all supernaturals—were said to hang out.

The sound of the falls echoed louder.

“Don't worry. I'm coming.” She wouldn't back out, and not simply because it called her—Della had never been one to come when called. She made this trip because she'd remembered something Kylie had once told her.
I go to the falls to find answers.

If those death angels could answer Kylie's questions, then by damn, they could answer Della's. Never mind that last time she'd gone there after feeling called, someone … as in the death angels themselves … had clobbered her on the head with a rock.

A nervous tickle whispered through her, but she kept going. For the answers, she'd risk it.

But if it was the death angels that knocked her on the head, they'd best be forewarned. This time, she'd be a hell of a lot harder to take down.

*   *   *

As Della neared the falls, her tickle of unease evaporated, and a sense of well-being grew in her chest.

She stepped between the trees and caught sight of the cascading water. She turned her head side to side, wanting to take it all in. Trees circled the area. Their limbs arched above, almost hugging the area of the falls, making it feel like a special little alcove. The sun, still new to the morning, cast its first golden hue of light through the trees. The air smelled fresh, verdant, and peaceful. She'd never considered what
peaceful
smelled like, but she knew it now.

The ambience reminded Della of a Buddhist temple she'd visited in China when she was twelve. Without explanation, she suddenly knew the death angels hadn't hit her on the head.

“So who was it?” She muttered the question aloud, not the least bit paranoid to be voicing her question to the empty woods.

Just because she couldn't see them didn't mean they weren't there.

She wasn't alone.

She sensed it. For the first time since she'd woken up from that coma after being Reborn, she felt … less alone. Complete.

“Who was what?” The voice blended with the rush of the falls.

Her heart leapt and her gaze shot to a spot in the curtain of water that blurred as a figure emerged.

Recognition hit and Della's sense of peacefulness shattered.

“What are
you
doing here?” she asked.

“Probably the same thing you are.” Chase's gaze whispered over her. “I kept hearing it last night.”

“You followed me,” she accused.

He smirked. “Now you're not even being logical. I was here first. If anyone was followed, you followed me.”

“I didn't.” Ambivalence rumbled around inside her, and had her clenching her fist. Should she hightail it out of here and continue with her vow not to speak to him until he told her the truth about who had sent him? Or should she cross over the water and go vamp on his butt to get the truth out of him?

She knew which one she wanted to do. Oddly, kicking ass—in a place where peace flavored the air—felt wrong. Decision made, she swerved around and started walking. Hopefully he'd follow her to a less than holy place and she could kick his butt then.

“Whoa! Stop!” he called.

She ignored him. Ignored the sound of the falls. She kept walking, her focus on the ground, the way the wet earth squished around the edges of her boots. Gaze still lowered, suddenly, another pair of wet leather boots appeared in her line of vision.

She stopped, but didn't look up. Didn't have to. She knew they were Chase's boots. Her heart did another tumble. His speed still awed her.

Am I that fast now?

She hadn't really had a chance to test her limits. Not with Burnett micromanaging her powers. Not with all her pressing issues.

But those issues didn't need her immediate attention, so she nudged those thoughts aside to deal with the problem at hand—or rather, the problem at her feet. Chase. Lifting her gaze, the visual details—Chase details—hit her at once. She stared, soaking them all in like a hungry sponge.

Details like how his wet, black hair clung to his brow. Like how his white T-shirt appeared shrink-wrapped to his upper body, showcasing every dip and curve of his muscular form. How he appeared buffer, or maybe she'd just forgotten how male-model perfect he was. She hated perfect!

“Hey.” His one soft word seemed to float through the air as he inched closer. His nearness made her skin feel extra sensitive. Maybe she didn't hate perfect so much. Had he always had this effect on her, or was this just post-bonding crap?

She growled, annoyed at her own weakness. But for the life of her, she couldn't seem to move back. Look but don't touch, she gave herself one rule.

He grinned as if he could read her mind.

She growled louder.

Other books

The Ice House by John Connor
Heart and Sole by Miranda Liasson
Driving Force by Andrews, Jo
Unmasked by Michelle Marcos
El secreto del Nilo by Antonio Cabanas
A Pack Family by Shannon Duane
The Winning Hand by Nora Roberts