“No, this was different,” Della insisted. “They’re alive,” she said. “I felt it.”

A tear slipped from Della’s lashes, and it felt hot rolling down her cold skin. She wiped it away. Then she remembered the ghost’s voice. Find Natasha.

“No,” Della said again. “The ghost told me to find Natasha. The ghost wasn’t Natasha.”

Holiday stood up and took a few steps toward Della. “But, if you were in Natasha’s body, it normally means…”

“Normally. You both keep throwing that word out there. But what’s normal about any of this? I’m vampire, I’m not even supposed to deal with ghosts. Maybe I’m doing this whole ghost thing abnormally!”

Holiday pulled her long red hair over her shoulder and twisted it as if in thought. “I’m not going to say it’s impossible, Della. You and Burnett are the first vampires I’ve known to be mediums. But I’m just telling you what I believe.”

“But you know,” Kylie added, and looked at Della as if she wanted to help, “Sara’s grandma came to me to heal Sara when she had the cancer. So maybe this is a ghost coming to you to help someone.”

“True,” Holiday said. “But you were never in Sara’s body, were you?”

“No.” Kylie leaned back against the sofa and met Della’s gaze.

Della looked away from the sympathy in Kylie’s eyes. She understood they were trying to help and were just telling her what they thought to be the truth. Della just didn’t believe it.

Or was it that she didn’t want to believe it? Her heart gripped, and pain—real pain—filled her chest. She felt their empathy, and she tried to push the grief to the side with all her other issues to deal with later.

Later. She’d gotten really good at postponing her meltdowns.

Taking a sobering breath, she asked her next question. “What about the whole Chase thing? Him seeing the same vision I did?”

“That’s possible,” Holiday said. “Especially since you were at the falls. It’s a magical place.”

Della almost agreed with her, but remembering they thought Natasha and Liam were dead, she wondered how the place could be magical and deliver such devastating news.

Magical would have been if they were alive. Her having a chance at saving them. No, real magic would have been them never being put in that position.

Later, she told herself again, pushing back the emotion that tried to crowd her lungs.

Holiday gave her hair another twirl. “The fact that Chase was at the falls tells me he very well might have some of the same ghost whispering abilities that you and Burnett do. And that could be because…” The fae glanced at Kylie and stopped talking.

“Because of what?” Kylie asked.

“I don’t know,” Holiday said, shrugging it off.

Della knew what she was going to say. Because of them all being Reborns. Were all Reborns prone to being ghost whisperers? Della saw the puzzled look on Kylie’s face. So far, Della hadn’t told Kylie or Miranda about this. They still thought she’d simply caught a strange virus. She knew she couldn’t keep it from them forever, but she was kind of hoping to get a handle on it before trying to explain it.

Della titled her head to the side. She heard someone walking up the steps of the cabin. She raised her nose. Correction. Two someones. Though only one set of footsteps moved in.

One of those someones was innocent and sweet, doused in baby powder. The other … the other was someone with whom Della had a bone to pick. And with all the angst stirring inside her, she had never felt more ready for an argument than right now.

Burnett walked into Holiday’s office without knocking, his daughter, Hannah, on his hip. He looked from Holiday to Kylie and then Della. “What’s wrong?” His gaze locked on Della, no doubt reading her pissed-off expression.

She didn’t even have to answer the question—he did it for her.

Burnett growled out, “Damn that sneaky bloodsucker. I forbid him from—”

Hannah started to cry.

“See, even our daughter doesn’t approve of your language.” Holiday moved in. “I swear, if the first word out of my daughter’s mouth is a curse word, I’m washing your mouth out with soap twice a day for the rest of your life.” Her maternal tone rang loud.

Burnett, obviously not a soap lover, made a face. “Sorry,” he said, pressing a kiss to Hannah’s dark hair with a gentleness that looked almost impossible for the tall, dark vampire. “Don’t talk like your daddy,” he said to the child. After turning over the little package to her mother, his gaze went back to Della, and all of that tender, gooey expression vanished.

“In my office,” he ordered, motioning for her to follow.

Della didn’t hesitate. She started behind him, mentally preparing herself for another head-banging, knock-down-drag-out fight with the stubborn, chauvinistic vampire. If he thought he was going to stop her from trying to find Natasha and Liam—even if they were dead—along with the other fresh turns who’d been forced into slavery, the next few minutes weren’t going to be pretty.

*   *   *

Burnett silently positioned himself behind his large oak desk that took up most of the space in the small office. Unlike Holiday’s office, which felt feminine and a bit magical, Burnett’s office felt sparse. The only personal items in the room were the photos on his desk of Holiday and Hannah.