Reborn

Chapter Twenty-nine

“Della!” Burnett called her back as she jumped out of his car and hotfooted toward her cabin when they returned from the FRU offices. She jogged through the gate and debated ignoring his call. But knowing Burnett, he’d come find her.

So she turned around and saw the camp leader wave Chase on his merry way. She hoped he went straight to hell, too. Or she did if Billy Jennings was innocent. But what if he isn’t? It wasn’t that she didn’t consider the possibility. She did, but … everything inside her said he was innocent.

Everything. Including that stupid voice.

When Chase walked past her he said, “I’m sorry. I did what I thought was right.”

Della scowled at him. He was lying. So how could it have been right?

Burnett walked up beside her and motioned her to walk to the office. Oh, hell, on top of being pissed, she was going to get read the riot act. She was in no mood.

She needed to be alone. Midnight had come and gone over an hour ago, and with every toss and turn her mind landed on one of her issues. She’d kissed the panty perv. And even worse, she’d enjoyed it. She was secretly worried she had the same virus that had killed her cousin. She’d discovered how inadequate she was as a vampire. And she’d assisted in ruining the life of a kid who very well could be innocent.

Holiday met them in the entrance of the office. From the look on her face, Burnett had already spoken to her and warned her of what went down.

“I know that was hard,” Holiday said as she got Della positioned on her sofa. Holiday sat beside her, resting one hand on her ever-growing baby bulge. Burnett leaned against the office desk. He looked upset, but not nearly as upset as Della felt. Or Billy, she thought, only guessing what the kid was going through right now.

“What’s hard is that he would take Chase’s word over mine!” she said to Holiday, but glared at Burnett. “Even after he told me he knows Chase’s not being honest.”

“I didn’t take his word over yours,” Burnett said.

“You kept the kid.”

“I kept him because he’s a murder suspect.”

“Wow, and here I thought you were innocent until proven guilty.”

“I said suspect, not murderer. I haven’t proven him guilty.”

“You might as well have if you’re locking him up. He knows you think he committed murder. And because he can’t remember, he probably believes he did it, too. He’s a fresh turn, he already thinks he’s a monster and now you’re confirming it for him.”

Burnett shook his head. “What happened to the Della who came to me a few days ago? All you talked about was wanting justice for the victims. You even went to the girl’s funeral. You insisted you wanted to catch the bastard who did it. And now—”

“Nothing has changed!” she spit out. “I want justice,” she insisted. “And if the kid’s guilty then throw the book at him, but not until you know he did it. You don’t have enough evidence to hold him—neither Chase or I are absolutely certain, despite what he said.”

Holiday reached over and touched Della’s arm. “Let’s stay calm.”

Della felt the tension in her chest ease, but it wasn’t enough. Innocent. Innocent. Innocent.

Burnett ran a hand over his face and then met her gaze. “Even without Chase recognizing the boy’s trace, I would have held him until I got the DNA evidence back.”

“And if he’s innocent, he’s suffering for no reason.” Della paused. “Why didn’t you just check his bite marks like you did with me when you brought me in? At least speed things up so he’s not suffering unnecessarily.”

Burnett flinched as if he didn’t like that memory any more than she did. “The bite marks weren’t clear, the wounds were too bad.” He exhaled loudly. “Look, Della, even if this kid didn’t commit the murders, he joined a rogue gang. Getting scared may straighten him out.”

She felt emotion rise in her throat. “When you talk like that it shows that you were born with the live virus. You don’t have any idea how it feels to be turned.”

“I know that—”

“No, you don’t know. You’ve never had to see yourself as a monster. I’ll bet more fresh turns join gangs so they don’t have to commit murder than those who join them to do terrible things. Chan told me that the gangs promise to provide blood and that they only kill when necessary.”

“I know that, Della, but my job—”

“Your job is to provide justice, and tonight I’m not so sure that happened for Billy.”

“Why are you so sure he’s innocent?” Burnett asked.

His question gave her another pause. She’d asked herself the same thing and came up empty. “I don’t know, but my gut says he is.” Her gut and the stupid voice in her head.

Della flinched as the image of the couple flashed in her head.

She looked at Holiday. “Has Lorraine come back to see you? You could ask her, maybe she could tell you.”

Holiday shook her head. “She hasn’t appeared again. I don’t know if she’s crossed over or just hasn’t wanted to communicate yet.”

Della refocused on Burnett. “Are you going to continue to work on the case? Investigate other leads?”

“We don’t have any other leads,” Burnett said.

I do. She thought about the Facebook message she’d received from Lindsey, Lorraine’s friend, about the Crimson Blood band. “Lorraine had an old boyfriend and her friends think he could have done this.”

Burnett stared at her as if she’d completely lost it. “This was a vampire kill.”

“I know, and maybe he’s—”

“We don’t follow maybes. We follow leads and it looks as if this lead is good.”

“The name of his band—”

“You’re grasping at straws.”

Della gritted her teeth. Burnett had his mind made up. She had to talk to Kevin. “Can I leave now?”

Burnett grimaced and looked at Holiday.

“It’s late,” Holiday said, and again rubbed her belly.

“Fine,” Burnett said. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Yes, they would, Della thought, and she hoped she had something to tell him about Phillip Lance. Something that would help Billy Jennings.

Della was only halfway to her cabin when she pulled out her phone and searched for Kevin’s text message.

U still n Houston? I need to c u.

She stopped walking and closed her eyes as the message sent. Would he see it? Answer it?

Staring at her phone, she saw the little icon that told her she had voicemail. From Steve.

Biting at her lip, maybe because she thought she couldn’t feel more than she was feeling now, she clicked it open and put the phone to her ear.

“I know you’re not speaking to me, but I just want you to know that I’m sorry. And while I wasn’t the one who initiated the kiss, I know I’d be pissed if someone kissed you. So get mad at me. I deserve it, but … damn it, Della, I care about you. I don’t care about her. It’s you I want. Please, call me.”

Emotion tugged at her heart. What she wouldn’t give for him to be here now—to just hold her, to help her understand all the craziness that was going on.

She had her finger over Redial, and hesitated. What was she going to say to him?

Her phone dinged with an incoming text.

From Kevin.

C me about what? Another favor? U really r going to owe me. We’re talking getting naked.

He put a smiley face beside it. She hoped that meant he was joking. But what the hell? She’d already been accused of being a prostitute. She wouldn’t do it, but he didn’t know that.

Whatever. Where r u?

Close to ur camp. Where do u want to meet?

Della considered jumping the fence—meeting him somewhere in Fallen. Burnett would have a fit. She’d have hell to pay. Then it hit her, why not do what Chase did with whoever the hell he was in cahoots with, and have Kevin meet her at the fence? As long as he didn’t touch the fence they should be fine. No reason to break a rule when one could just bend it a little.

She texted Kevin back and gave him the exact location where to meet her. Do not jump or touch the fence.

Ten minutes later, Della waited by the fence line where the creek ran through. Sitting on a fallen tree, she hugged her knees close. The cold air found its way under her shirt and brought goose bumps to her skin, which probably meant her temperature wasn’t right. The night noises echoed in the distance. A chorus of frogs, insects, and a few small critters scurrying in the brush trying to stay warm.

Feeling alone, she pulled her phone out to keep her company. She remembered Steve’s voicemail. She checked her text messages and found one from him she hadn’t read.

Miss u.

She missed him, too. Closing her eyes, feeling the lack of sleep, she dropped her forehead on her knees. She envisioned his face. His smile. The soft way he kissed and how that kiss slowly became hotter and hotter.

Guilt whispered over her for kissing Chase. She’d done it to keep their cover. Hadn’t she? Or had the seed the little witch planted in her head sprouted and led her down that path?

Right then it occurred to her that she was no longer so angry at Steve for … for letting Jessie kiss him. Hurt maybe, but not angry. She couldn’t even be mad that he’d enjoyed it. She had enjoyed Chase’s kiss, hadn’t she?

Could Miranda’s idea have worked? No, she told herself. Two wrongs still didn’t make a right, but maybe walking in his shoes, she realized the kiss didn’t mean he didn’t care about her, or that he would necessarily do it again.

She wouldn’t kiss Chase again. Wouldn’t let him kiss her again, either.

Would she?

No.

Sitting up, she looked back at her phone and Steve’s text, and typed in: Let’s talk this weekend, ok? It took her longer to hit the Send button than it did to type it.

Within less than thirty seconds she got a text back: Ok. Miss you.

Her heart gripped. He had to be awake, watching his phone. Hoping she’d text or call him. The memory of the pain she’d seen in his eyes when they’d argued had her lungs releasing air. She typed back. Miss u too.

A few seconds later, another ding came in: Want to talk now? I’ll call Burnett and come.

Panic stirred inside her. Not just because she was waiting on Kevin, but because she wasn’t altogether ready to talk to Steve. Was she going to tell him about Chase? Was she going to agree to … make this thing between them real? Or was she simply going to expect things to go on like they were? Nope, she wasn’t ready to talk to him yet.

No. This weekend. Ok?

Ok.

She heard a distant noise and slipped her phone in her pocket. Tilting her head, she focused on the slight sound. Footsteps, soft, came treading her way. They came from the other side of the fence. Filling her nose with air, she hoped her sense of smell had returned and that she’d recognize Kevin’s scent. She got nothing.

While the sound of steps continued, the forest noises stopped. No birds, no insects, even the trees stood silently against the wind.

It had to be Kevin, she told herself. But remembering how she got clobbered on the head not too long ago, she rose and stood behind a tree. Leaning slightly around the trunk, she fixed her eyes in the direction the sound came from.