Eternal (14 page)

Della studied the pain in Miranda's eyes. Had she spilled to Kylie about Perry leaving? Probably.

Della would have loved to grab another Diet Coke and commiserate with the witch, or maybe even find some anger at her for keeping secrets, but she didn't have that luxury. And her emotional bank account was already overdrawn.

The call had been from Burnett, and he'd told her to be at his office in fifteen minutes. She had exactly ten minutes now to clean her face a little more and to bury her emotional havoc.

Stopping in front of her two friends, she said, “Burnett called and I have no time to chat. Sorry.”

“But you're upset. You need to talk,” Miranda spouted out as new tears pooled in her large green eyes. Eyes that showed just as much concern for Della as they did for her own pain.

“I'm fine,” Della insisted. She started to stomp off, then stopped and looked back at Miranda, who'd stood up to stare at Della with a frown. “And you'll be okay, too.”

Miranda nodded. “We'll get through this together, right?”

“Right,” Della said, and because she didn't have a choice, she let the witch hug her—for a second. Then she ran inside and shut her bedroom door and let herself have a mini pity party.

Three minutes to spare, she lit out of her cabin door—waving at her two best friends, but not giving them time to say anything. Guilt for leaving Miranda in her crisis made her ascent slow, but Kylie was with Miranda, she told herself. And Kylie excelled at consoling. The chameleon always knew what to say, while Della always said the wrong thing.

Besides, burying all that raw pain had been hard, keeping it buried was going to be a bitch. Talking about it to her best friends would only make it harder. Heck, being around Chase would be tougher yet. But she would give it all she had. She had to. Her full-blown breakdown could come later. Commiserating with Miranda could come later. Natasha's problem—facing death—made Della's and her roommate's issues look small. And that's what Della needed to focus on, before it was too late.

*   *   *

Burnett informed them that Derek hadn't found any pictures of either of the girls on any of the social media sites. Which seemed odd. And after a rule-spouting, one-sided conversation from Burnett about safety and making their eight o'clock curfew, Della followed Chase into the parking lot to a bright blue car. Burnett had insisted they travel in cars during the light of day. He must have told Chase when he called him, because this was the same car that had been parked at his cabin.

Chase hit the clicker to unlock the vehicle. Della noted the model of the car this time. Camaro. She slid into the soft leather front passenger seat that screamed “expensive” right along with the car's name.

She almost stepped on a large bag on the floorboard.

“Sorry,” he said. “I brought my camera. I can put it in the back.”

“It's fine. I've got plenty of foot room.”

When Chase settled behind the wheel, she stared straight ahead. Those words had been the first she'd spoken to him.

She hadn't had a chance … the moment she'd walked into the office where Burnett and Chase were, Burnett had started talking. During the camp leader's litany, she'd felt Chase studying her. She'd swallowed hard and tried to keep her face passive, hiding any remnants of pain.

She could still feel his gaze. He started the car. The engine came to life. She heard another soft vibrating noise and the car's top started pulling back. A cool breeze tossed a few strands of hair in her face.

She cut her eyes to the driver's side and reached deep for a subject as far removed from the pain pulsating just under her chest bone as she could find.

“Nice camera bag. Probably a nice camera inside,” she said, glancing to the floorboard. “Nice ride.” She looked up at the blue sky, filled with a few puffy white clouds. “Nice cabin earlier, too. Does the Vampire Council pay this well, or are you just independently wealthy?”

It appeared as if he wasn't going to answer, but then he slid his hand down the steering wheel with male pride. “I paid for this car myself. The cabin, I'm just renting, but I'm considering buying it. The council doesn't pay all that well.”

“So, independently wealthy, huh?”

He shrugged. “Not independently. My parents. Since, to the human world, I was dead, too, Jimmy, who found me, was able to finagle my father's will. All his money and life insurance funds went to a clinical study my father was helping with. But when I turned eighteen, Jimmy handed it over to me.”

“Is Jimmy the one who took you in and raised you?” she asked. “The supernatural who isn't registered with FRU?”

He nodded and she could swear he flinched as if he regretted having told her about Jimmy. And that just made her want to know more. What all was Chase hiding? And why?

“Did this Jimmy know your father?” she asked, determined to unearth all Chase's secrets.

He drove out of the parking lot. His shoulders tightened. Was he not going to answer? Was he trying to come up with a lie?

“Yeah. They knew each other,” he finally said, his voice mingled with the sound of the engine.

The car picked up speed. Della's hair whipped around her face. So she could see, and study his expression, she pulled it over her shoulder and held it bunched in her hand. If he lied, she might be able to detect it.

He looked at the road, but continued talking. She kept her eyes on his face and twisted her legs so she wouldn't step on his camera.

“They knew each other for almost a year.” He didn't blink and appeared not to flinch.

Did she believe him? Yes, for some reason, she did. “Did your dad know Jimmy was a vampire?” she asked, sensing if he answered one question, he might be inclined to answer more.

She saw his Adam's apple shift as he swallowed. Was answering hard? If so, why?

“Jimmy worked part-time with my dad at a free clinic. He'd figured out that my dad was a carrier of the virus. He'd come clean to my dad.”

“And your dad believed him? I mean, Jimmy just says, ‘Hey, I'm a vampire and you're a carrier of a virus that can turn you into a vampire.' That's doesn't sound realistic.” How many times had she considered how she might tell her parents about herself?

Chase glanced at her and he almost smiled, before looking back to the road. “Jimmy said he could prove it. He had my dad drive them out on some dirt road. He took off flying, and when that didn't work, he picked up my dad's Porsche. That got my dad's attention. Nobody messed with my dad's car.”

The chuckle in Chase's voice spoke of his admiration for his dad, and Della couldn't help but wonder if that was why Chase had bought this car—because his dad would have liked it.

Chase focused on the street, making the turns and changing gears with ease. The engine purred. Della wasn't into cars, but she had to admit she liked how this one moved. The power. How Chase looked driving it. His hair in the wind, his confidence in the way he sat in the driver's seat and shifted gears.

“I'd love to have seen my dad's expression,” Chase said, apparently still with his dad in his head. “It still took months before my dad agreed to have us tested.”

“Who got tested?” Della asked.

“My sister and I.” He stared at the road and his hands tightened on the wheel. “That's where we had been coming from when the plane crashed.”

He'd never talked this much about himself, and she almost felt thirsty for the information, wanting more. “Is Jimmy a Reborn?”

Chase rolled his shoulders as if he was suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation. “Yeah.” He cut his eyes to her. “In the glove compartment there's some hair-band thingies for your hair.”

So you've had other girls in this car?
She pushed that thought aside and went back to their conversation.

“Is he, the one who … are you bonded with Jimmy?”

“Yeah,” he said.

She let that thought run through her head. “How does that feel?”

“What?” he asked.

“Being bonded to two…” She glanced at the glove compartment and thought about one of those hair-band thingies. “How many people are you bonded to?”

He glanced at her, his smile different this time, almost as if he had read her mind. “Careful, you almost sound jealous.”

It wasn't jealousy, she wanted to insist, but couldn't think of how to explain what it was. Hell. She couldn't explain because she didn't understand it.

“I'm just curious how this works,” she spit out. The wind snatched a few strands of hair loose and slapped them against her cheek. She should be used to the hair in her face—but obviously, sitting still in the wind and flying in wind felt different.

Leaning forward, she opened the glove compartment. A brand new pack of three elastic hair bands sat at her fingertips.

“I picked them up on the way here when Burnett said we had to use the car. My sister hated it when my dad put his top down. And the day was too pretty to drive with it up.”

So, no girl?
“Thanks,” she said, and then for some reason, wished she hadn't. Being grateful to him felt wrong when she was hurting over …
Not now!
She needed to be thinking about Natasha.

Snatching one hair band from the pack, she shut the others back up and pulled back her hair. A new spray of fall sun peeked out from behind a white cloud and warmed Della's face.

He glanced at her, his smile gone. “I'm only bonded to Jimmy and you.”

So many questions sat on the tip of her tongue. And not just to understand Chase, to unearth his secrets, but to understand what was happening to her. “How many can a vampire bond with? How many Reborns can we save?”

“It hasn't really been proven,” he said, focusing solely on the road again.

“How many has this Jimmy bonded with?”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, her question no doubt making him uneasy. She realized he was more comfortable talking about himself than Jimmy. Was he afraid she'd pass the info of an unregistered vampire to Burnett?

For a second, she wanted to tell him about her uncle, and how she hadn't told Burnett because she, too, feared he might be unregistered, but she wasn't ready to open up that much.

Face it, trust was earned. And Chase had yet to earn hers. But he was getting close, a voice inside her said. He was answering her questions.

“I wouldn't … I don't care if Jimmy is registered or not. I need to know all of this for me,” she assured him.

You need to figure out exactly what this bond thing is, and what it isn't.
Steve's words echoed inside her.

“I need to know,” she repeated, again pushing back the pain.

He didn't look at her, but his shoulders loosened. “Jimmy has bonded with three, but the last time he almost died. And…”

“And what?” she asked when Chase paused.

He inhaled. “Each time a Reborn bonds, you give away some of your power. Jimmy is almost back to being a regular vampire now. He can't afford to do it again.”

Della digested that. “Did you … lose power when you bonded with me?”

“Some.” He leaned forward to see the freeway sign in the distance, then sped up and zipped past a car to enter the ramp.

So Chase had not only suffered, he'd given up power? And seeing him drive this car, she had a feeling power meant a lot to him.

He'd barely known her. Why had he done it?

“You shouldn't have…” She dropped back in her seat. “I still think I might have made it on my own.”

“We all want to think that.” He cut his gaze to her again and she spotted emotion in his gaze. “I don't regret it,” he said in a tender voice.

She didn't want tender.

He shifted gears and she watched as he did it with ease.

“You know how to drive?” he asked, probably having seen her watching him.

“Of course.”

“Stick shift?”

“No.”

“I'll teach you.”

“That's okay,” she said, but she couldn't deny it looked more fun that driving an automatic. “I wouldn't want to wreck your car.”

“If you wrecked it, I'd just buy another one.”

“Stop,” she said.

“Stop what?”

“Being nice.”

He laughed.

She lowered her attention away from Chase and his niceness to the files tucked tightly between the seats—the files with the addresses of both Natashas.

At least they'd have a last name soon. Would that help find her? For some reason the ghost seemed to think so. And Della could only hope.

Find Natasha.

Della flinched at the sound of the voice. This time she didn't question if she'd really heard it or just conjured up the memory of the voice.

She'd heard it. Goose bumps tickled the back of her neck, as if the words brought on a chill.

The ghost was here.

Della cut her eyes to the tiny backseat. Empty. Maybe the ghost wasn't actually in the car, just buried in her head.

The car's engine roared louder. She glanced again at Chase. His hands gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.

“You heard it, too, didn't you?”

“Shit, yeah,” he said, completely understanding what she meant. Then the car shot forward.

As if trying to outrun the ghost.

But if what Holiday and Kylie said about ghosts and their perseverance was true, Chase's Camaro didn't stand a chance.

 

Chapter Sixteen

“That's it.” Less than an hour later, Chase inched his car in front of a one-story, redbrick house with lots of windows. Located in a small town outside of Houston, it was off a dirt road, not in a subdivision. Larger than the house Della grew up in, it had a wraparound porch with a wicker swing that swayed ever so slightly in the afternoon breeze. A big live oak tree, twice as tall as the house, stood to the right of the property, and a tire swing dangled from a rope. It looked aged, as if it had been someone's play toy and they'd outgrown it.