Reborn

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 the 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 parched. 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.

Bits of their conversation from when she’d been feverish sounded in her head. He said I’d be … bonded to him. She had told Steve about Chase.

I won’t let that happen, Steve had answered. But he had to have known he might not be able to stop it. Yet, he’d done it. Emotion squeezed her chest. Chase had risked his life, endured pain to save her, and Steve helped him do it, knowing he might lose her.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” Miranda snapped.

“I’ll try not to.” Della met Kylie’s eyes. “I’m fine, so get that worried look off your face.”

“I tried to heal you,” Kylie said, and her eyes brightened with unshed tears. “I couldn’t. My hands wouldn’t get warm and you wouldn’t wake up.”

Della recalled Chase saying healers wouldn’t work.

“But I’m better now. So no emotional outpouring okay?”

“Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” Miranda started chirping and bouncing her butt on the bed.

“What about no emotional outpouring did you not understand?” Della asked.

The witch rolled her green eyes. “You better be glad your pissy pass hasn’t expired.”

“Her what?” Lucas asked.

Della exhaled.

“I’m just happy,” Miranda said. “It’s your aura. It’s not dark anymore. I mean, it’s still vampire dark, but it’s not ugly dark.”

“Nothing about Della could be ugly.” Steve moved in and sat down beside her. He still looked worried. His hand eased over close and touched her wrist. Almost testing her.

She wished she could tell him not to worry.

But she could, couldn’t she?

No one controlled her. It was her choice. She had to believe that. Turning her hand over, she laced her fingers with his. She held on tight, but her still hurt. Hurt from missing Chase.

An hour later, Della was back at her cabin—alone in her bedroom. Pacing. Left to right. The tiny room made pacing difficult.

Steve had walked her back with Miranda and Kylie. When he saw that her two friends weren’t going to give them any alone time, he kissed her on her cheek—in front of them—and told her to call him the minute she could.

She hadn’t called him yet. He was going to ask her. Ask her if she felt different about Chase. What was she going to tell him? He deserved the truth. And yet …

She hadn’t even told Miranda or Kylie anything about what really went down. Della could tell they were waiting for her to explain things. They’d gotten out the Diet Cokes. But Della had played the “tired” card and come to her bedroom.

Okay, fine, she was being a terrible friend and worse girlfriend. But give her a freaking break! How was someone to explain something they didn’t understand? Or tell the truth when they didn’t know the truth.

Bonded? What the hell did that even mean?

She didn’t want to believe it could mean anything.

And yet she hadn’t stopped thinking about him. Her emotions spun like a roller coaster jacked up on coffee that had been laced with speed.

Angry.

Confused.

Beholden.

All of them targeting the same guy.

Almost as frustrating—almost—were her newfound powers. Which she understood even less than the word “bonded.” Of course, it could be because she hadn’t checked them out yet. And when would she get that opportunity?

She had a feeling Burnett was going to be watching her like a hawk to make sure she didn’t expose herself—the way Chase had.

Frankly, she didn’t blame Chase. What good was having powers if she could never use them?

Or, as in this case, almost never use them. Burnett had said they could be used in dire emergencies. Define “dire emergency”.

Della picked up her phone. Her mom had left a message. She needed to call her. But it must not be a dire need, because she didn’t want to do it. Or maybe she just didn’t know what to say to her any more than she did to anyone else?

Oh, she knew what she wanted to say: Hey, Mom. Did you know Chan’s dead? I know you thought he was dead a while back, but he wasn’t. And guess what, now I’m not just a vampire, but a really badass one. And, oh yeah, I’ve supposedly bonded with a guy. Though I don’t have a fracking idea what it means. So could you stop being ridiculous and tell me about my dad’s sister and brother who I’m pretty sure sent this guy here to bond with me?

Oh yeah, that would go over about as well as a fart in church.

She heard someone walking up to the cabin. Lifting her face, she inhaled, wanting it to be a certain scent. Chase’s scent.

But what did she want with him?

Answers, she told herself. Chase had some explaining to do. And not just about this bond thing, but about who sent him looking for her.

It wasn’t Chase.

She heard Derek ask where she was, and then Miranda said, “You’re going to tell her now?”

She swung the door open. “Tell me what?”

Both Kylie and Miranda looked concerned.

Derek walked over to the sofa and dropped down.

“Just tell me,” Della said. “It’s about Chase, isn’t it?”

“No,” Derek said.

“Then what?” she asked.

“A couple of days ago, I finally got someone from your father’s school to chat with me about your aunt and uncle.”

“And?”

“Your aunt is … dead.”

Della heard him, but didn’t want to accept it. “So you found her obituary. She could have faked it, just like my uncle.”

“I don’t think so,” he said.

“Why not? Just because she wasn’t in the same funeral home. There could be others who—”

“It’s not that,” he said. “She was murdered.”

“Murdered?” Della’s gut tightened. Someone had killed her aunt? “When? How?”

“It was about a year after your uncle was supposedly killed in the car accident.”

“Who killed her?” She thought about her father, the pain he must have endured after first losing his twin and then his sister. No wonder he didn’t talk about the past. “Did they catch the bastard?”

His eyes filled with regret. “When I found this out, I went to my PI buddy and asked him to look into it. He has a lot of friends who are detectives.” Derek cupped his hands and paused.

“And?”

“He got someone to pull the file. It’s listed as a cold case. They never arrested anyone because they never had enough evidence.”

“So they had no suspects? None? Someone kills my dad’s sister and just gets away with it?”

He paused, and she could tell he didn’t want to tell her. “Spill it!”

“There was only one suspect.”

She waited for him to tell her more. Her patience snapped. “Good Lord, do I have to reach in your mouth and pull out the words? Who was it?”

He still hesitated. “Your father.”

Della swallowed. “They thought … That can’t be right. My father would never—”

“I didn’t say he did it, I just said that he was their only suspect.”

Della saw the way Miranda and Kylie looked at her. Empathy. And the little witch was about to try and hug her again. “He didn’t do it,” Della seethed. “I’m telling you he didn’t do it!”

“We believe you,” Kylie said. “We just feel bad that you have to hear it. And you’ve been sick and—”

Wanting to scream, no, wanting to run, she took off. At first, she forgot not to run too fast. But she slowed down just enough that she wouldn’t have Burnett after her. She made seven laps, pretty damn fast, and never even got tired. Finally, she landed. There wasn’t one noise. Silence.

Then her phone dinged with a text.

She pulled it out. Her breath caught. It was from Chase.

Worried about u. We need to talk.

“No shit, Sherlock!” she said, and started to type a response, but she heard and smelled someone coming.

Kylie, with Miranda on her back, landed beside her. Della slipped her phone back in her pocket.

“Are you okay?” Kylie asked.

“No,” Della said, miles past trying to pretend. “I’m not.”

“Do you need a hug?” Miranda asked.

Della stared at the little witch and thought of about ten over-the-top pissy things she could say, but when she opened her mouth, not one came out.

“Yeah,” Della said, and a few tears slipped from her lashes. “I think I do.” Confusion to the point of pain swelled inside her. Her dad was suspected of killing his sister. She was bonded to some guy she barely knew, and didn’t know what that meant. But as much as she wanted to deny it, it felt like it meant something.

Standing in the midst of a group hug, without a friggin’ clue what she was going to do, she found a moment of clarity. She had a shitload of questions that needed answering and big decisions she had to make, but one thing she knew. She had two of the best friends ever.

And if she could just remember that, she’d survive all of this. Survive and find answers. She had to.

After all, she was a reborn. That had to mean something.