Eternal (19 page)

“And you think it was your uncle?”

“It has to be,” Della said. “It has to be.”

*   *   *

Della spent the rest of the night doing more tossing and turning than sleeping. Not that it surprised her. The vision had been just as mind reeling as her first FRU visit, when she'd seen two dead bodies. She'd get to sleep and be jarred awake by the image of her father—no, her uncle—holding the bloody knife.

It had to be her uncle. Believing that made it almost acceptable. Forget that she'd had grand hopes of finding said uncle. She'd give up having a family member who was vampire, who understood her and loved her. She'd toss all that away before she would believe her father could kill.

Della rolled over again. From her window she could see a sliver of sky slowly growing pink with the rising sun. A new day. A better day, she hoped. By the time that light had gotten one shade brighter, she heard the footfalls.

Footfalls walking toward her cabin … her window. Only one person visited her window on a regular basis. One person who said he didn't want to say good-bye in person and who'd texted a sad face.

Since the vision last night, she'd put all the hurt of Steve leaving in a tight pocket and buried it in her heart. But that sound. Those familiar footsteps—both the pain and pleasure of everything Steve was in her life danced on her heart.

Before Della could decide whether to run and hide or let him come inside and give him an ass whooping, his sad face appeared at her window. She stood up and gripped her hands at her sides. She wanted to scream, to laugh, and to cry all at once.

He pushed open the window and leapt in as if he belonged here. Belonged in her bedroom and in her life.

And damn it, no damn him, because she wasn't sure that he didn't.

 

Chapter Twenty-one

Steve took a step toward her. Della took one step back. Behind him, the rising sun had turned the sky purple. “You said—”

“I couldn't do it.”

“Couldn't leave?” She held her breath, didn't blink, even her heart stopped beating as she waited and hoped he'd say she was right.
But then what?
a voice inside her said.
What about Chase?

“No, I couldn't go without saying good-bye. But leaving is going to be hell.”

He moved forward and slipped his warm hands around her waist. Slowly, he pulled her against him and she didn't resist. Couldn't. The thought of kicking his ass was yesterday's news.

He didn't kiss her, just held her. Her head came to rest on that special spot on his chest. The one she claimed belonged to her. His smell, a tangy, earthy scent mixed with the aroma of fresh wind, filled her senses.

She breathed it in greedily. Tears formed in her eyes.

When he pulled back, even his eyes were misty. “I want you to know that no matter what happens, I will never regret what we were. What we had. And if I lose you, you will always be the one who got away that I'll never forget.”

He stopped and looked up at the ceiling for one second. Two. Three.

He inhaled and his breath sounded shaky. Or was that hers?

“Promise me,” he said, looking back at her. “Promise me that you won't do something stupid and get yourself killed. Promise me that you'll stop letting your parents' ignorance hurt you so much. You don't deserve that. Promise me that before you fall in love with Chase, you'll remember that I loved you first.”

That's when the need to whip his ass came back!

She hit his chest with her palm. He stumbled back, but remained standing. “Why did you make me care about you when you knew you were leaving? You could have just left me alone! I wouldn't be hurting now! Why?”

He grabbed her and kissed her then. His lips tasted warm, tasted like Steve—so sweet, but oddly salty. Perhaps from her tears, and maybe even his. Before she knew it, way before she wanted it, the kiss ended. She opened her eyes. He was gone. She saw several tiny bubbles floating in the air. Then she spotted the bird, a peregrine falcon perched on her windowsill.

Looking almost regal, the bird bowed his head at her then leapt up and flew away. With him, he took a part of her heart. And she wasn't sure she'd ever get that part back.

*   *   *

Della heard Miranda and Kylie leave in time for the morning meal. Della skipped breakfast and the campmate hour. She managed to pull herself together enough to go to her first-period class. Math.

From there she went to science. The class was halfway over, and Haden Yates, Jenny's brother, was up discussing sound waves. It might have been interesting if she gave a shit.

She didn't.

Not while she was still reeling over last night's vision. Reeling over the mere possibility that her father, and if not him, her uncle, was a killer. Over the fact that another day had passed and she wasn't any closer to finding Natasha. Add that a part of her heart was halfway over the ocean heading to France, and was it any wonder that she didn't give a rat's ass about sound waves?

Someone in the back of the room chuckled. Della looked back and right then she realized something wasn't right. She turned her head around to make sure she wasn't mistaken.

Nope. No mistake. She'd been so busy wallowing in self-pity that she hadn't realized Kylie and Miranda were missing. Damn.

What kind of friend was she? Especially considering Miranda was in the same sinking boat as Della. Well, she didn't have her dead aunt haunting her ass, but at least romantically the girl's heart had been yanked out of her chest.

Della shot up out of her seat to leave, only to remember that one didn't just leave class and discussions on sound waves.

“Della?” Mr. Yates said.

She looked at him. She started to explain she needed to go find her friends, but that didn't sound like a good enough excuse to leave class. And lately, Mr. Yates had been complaining about absences—even when they were approved by Burnett.

“Uh … I need to be excused.”

“Because…?”

“Personal reasons,” she said, hoping he wouldn't argue, and if he did, he wasn't going to like her alternative get-out-of-class answer. But she wasn't above using it—even if it was a lie.

“What kind of personal reasons?” he asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

Well, damn, she'd tried to spare him. She put her hand on her hip and met his unhappy gaze.

“I just started my period and it's about to get messy. Of course, you wouldn't understand that.”

Mr. Yates's mouth dropped open, but he didn't excuse her from class so she continued.

“I mean, I know guys don't understand the whole period thing.”

Red color climbed up his neck to his face and almost looked cartoonish, but he still didn't excuse her.

“But seriously, if your penises bled once a month—”

“Go!” he almost yelled, and she barely heard it over the laughter from the other students.

“Thank you.” She shot out of the classroom and didn't slow down until she stopped at her cabin.

She could hear Miranda and Kylie inside. Miranda's broken voice echoed the loudest.

Feeling terrible about abandoning them when they'd been there so much for her these last few months, she stormed inside. They sat at the kitchen table. Miranda had a pint-size carton of Chunky Monkey ice cream in her hands, and three empty cartons sat on the table. And they looked licked clean.

Kylie stared at Della as if she didn't know what to do with the witch. Not that Della had any great ideas.

“I'm sorry. I didn't know we were having an ice cream party.” Della stopped at the table.

Miranda let go of another sob and shoveled another big scoop of banana ice cream into her mouth. “He haaaasn't even called,” she whimpered around the sweet goo in her mouth.

Della exhaled and reached deep for patience. “He's only halfway there. Once you get up to around twenty thousand feet, it's kind of hard to find a cell tower.”

“I gave him a special phone.” She hiccupped. “It doesn't need a cell tower.”

“All cell phones need … Oh, you mean a magic one?”

Miranda nodded and let out another sob.

“Cool,” Della said.

“Not cool when he's not calling … me. Why hasn't he … called me?”

Kylie frowned at Della as if saying she didn't know what to say.

“I'm sure he'll call,” Kylie said and the chameleon's heart raced to the lie.

Della dropped down in a chair and couldn't help but wonder if lying was the best option. She tried to envision Perry flying and suddenly a question arose.

“How is Perry flying with humans if he can't be trusted to be around them?”

Miranda dove back into her pint of ice cream. “Burnett gave him a Benadryl. It slows down a shape-shifter's ability to shift.”

Della gave that some thought. “Then why doesn't he just take Benadryl daily? Then he wouldn't have to go to some school to teach him to stop shifting.”

“He had to take a dozen pills,” Miranda said.

“A dozen?” Kylie asked.

“Well, duh,” Della said. “Maybe he passed out on the plane and that's why he's not calling.”

“I think he's purposely not calling me,” Miranda moaned.

“I don't think that's it,” Kylie said, and her heart did somersaults in her chest, telling Della that was exactly what Kylie thought. Hell, Perry had probably already confided in Kylie and told her he wouldn't be calling Miranda.

Damn Perry! It didn't even matter if the reason he was breaking up with Miranda was because of his own insecurities. He was still breaking her heart and her spirit. Miranda's spirit was fragile. And that royally pissed Della off to the nth degree. She took a deep breath and tried to calm the fury from brightening her eyes.

Miranda shoved another heaping spoonful of Chunky Monkey into her mouth as tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked pathetic and gross because her nose was running down to her upper lip and she was still eating.

And just like that, Della lost it. She couldn't stand by and see Miranda like this. “Stop!” she screamed and yanked the ice cream from Miranda's clutches.

“Give that back!” Miranda demanded and jumped up and tried to dig her spoon into the carton.

“Let's not fight,” Kylie said. “Give her back her ice cream.”

“No!” Della jerked the pint back from Miranda's spoon. But the witch went for it again.

Della stuck her finger into the ice cream. “My fingers are filthy!” She glared at her teary-eyed roommate. “I had some nose problems earlier.” She kept poking her finger in the ice cream, hoping to discourage the girl.

“I don't care! I want my ice cream,” Miranda screamed and went to grab the carton.

“Stop this,” Kylie said.

Della ignored Kylie, lurched back, and yanked her finger out of the cold substance. She pretended to hand the carton to Miranda, but instead she threw it on the floor, and doing a vampire-speed polka dance, she stomped her boot heels in the Chunky Monkey until the witch would need a straw to slurp it up off the floor.

Miranda stood there, staring at the mess with fury in her large green eyes. “I skipped school to get that ice cream.”

Looking completely wacko, she held up her pinkie and it started to twitch.

“Stop this!” Kylie screamed.

“No. Let her do it!” Della put her face in Miranda's. So close, her nose touched the witch's. And that was kind of gross, because she had ice cream on it. At least she hoped it was ice cream and not …

“Don't do it!” Kylie pulled Miranda back a step. “This could end so badly.”

Della held up her hand. “Stay out of it!” she told Kylie. “Let the witch turn me into a kangaroo, or give me pimples, I don't care.”

Della glared back at Miranda. “You are my friend, damn it! And I'm not going to stand by and watch you eat yourself sick and get fat.”

“I don't care if I get fat,” Miranda said.

“Well, I do!” Della snapped.

“You don't understand,” Miranda sobbed.

“The hell I don't!” Della said and suddenly tears filled her eyes. “Look, they left us! We didn't want this. We didn't ask for this. They should be the ones hurting, not us!”

“But I love—”

“I know you love him, but you don't deserve this. I don't deserve this! Steve and Perry basically told us the same thing—to figure out what we want. Well, damn it, that's what you should do. You aren't going to wallow around in this self-pity shit and get fat eating ice cream. You're going to go on with your life and figure out what you want! And guess what? You just might figure out that you want better than Perry.”

“The vamp has a point,” Kylie said.

Miranda sniffled. “But I don't want—”

“Look, I'm not saying go fall in love with someone else, but maybe flirt a little, open yourself up to the possibilities. You might even have fun.”

“Who am I going to flirt with? Everyone here knows that—”

“Well, flirt with someone who's not here.”

“There's no one I want to flirt with.”

And bam, Della remembered something she hadn't told Miranda. About the warlock FRU agent who'd helped bury Chan. She had to search her brain for his name, but she found it. “How about Shawn Hanson?”

Miranda's mouth dropped open. Then she slammed it shut. “You dirty little, blood-sucking vamp. You've been reading my diary?” The pinkie came back up. “I should, I should…”

“I haven't read shit.” Della made a face. “But I would've if I'd known you had one. Where's your diary? I'll bet it's got some good stuff in it.”

“Don't lie to me,” Miranda snapped. “How else would you know about Shawn?”

“I know about him because I met him.”

“Liar!” she said, and looked at Kylie. “Turn vampire and check her heartbeat.”