“That’s why I brought you here,” he said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, trying to ignore the cold and what it meant—that her temperature was still running high.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it.”

She started getting a really bad feeling. “Believe what?”

“I knew you’d have to see him, so I…”

“What?” She took a threatening step forward.

He didn’t retreat. He looked right at her, not with challenge or menace. Empathy flashed in his blue eyes.

“Chan’s dead.”

“No,” Della seethed. “I saw him, just the other night.”

“No you didn’t. It couldn’t have been him. He died ten days ago. I just found out tonight.”

“That can’t be right. I…” Pain, raw bitter pain, scraped against her heart; then something brushed against her cheek. She reached up to catch the mosquito in her fist. But when she opened her hand, instead, she’d caught a feather.

The pain throbbing inside her swelled and made it hard to breathe.

Chan was dead.

Chan was gone.

She’d let him down. He’d helped her when she’d needed him, and she’d failed him.

Chapter Twenty-two

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me, so I had them dig him up.” Kevin took a step and then looked back. “You do want to see him, don’t you?”

No. I don’t want to see him. Della followed anyway. Maybe to punish herself. Maybe because there was still a little disbelief inside her.

He led her behind the trees to a clearing. Moonlight hit on a tarp covering up something. Something that looked like it could be a body. Beside the tarp was a hole in the ground.

Della’s chest gripped tighter and her vision blurred.

Kevin reached down and pulled back the piece of plastic.

She expected to be assaulted by the smell of death. But no scent touched her nose. Not even Chan’s scent. She expected to see a swollen and decayed body. Maybe a wound telling her how he’d died. Wrong.

She blinked the tears from her eyes. It was Chan. Chan, not swollen. Chan with no decay. Chan with no open wounds or sign of how he’d died. But it was his body lying there, not breathing. Dirt on his face. Dirt on his clothes.

Chan … dead.

“How … who did this? What happened?” She barely managed to speak, emotion thickening her tonsils.

“No one did it,” he said. ““When he left for Texas, he wasn’t feeling right. They said he got sicker, and then he got a weird rash on his back, and then about ten days ago he died. Just died. It’s crazy. Vampires hardly ever get sick.”

“But how…” She couldn’t finish the question.

“The gang buried him here,” Kevin finished. “They knew he’d faked his death, so they didn’t think they had to let anyone know.”

The knot in Della’s throat doubled in size right along with the pain in her heart. Chan had been sick. He’d called her and she hadn’t returned his call. What kind of cousin did that?

Her mind created the pristine vision of Lorraine’s body in the casket. She fell to her knees and brushed some dirt from her cousin’s face; then she dropped her chin on her chest and sobbed. She didn’t care if Kevin saw her, or thought she was weak. Her heart was breaking and she didn’t give a flying flip how she looked.

Della had stopped crying, but she hadn’t moved from Chan’s side when Burnett showed up. She’d sent Kevin away and called Burnett to tell him she’d found her cousin and he was dead. She wanted Chan buried in the grave with his gravestone—the one where his parents thought they’d put their son almost two years ago. And since she didn’t think she could pull that off, she called someone who could.

Sure, Burnett would probably give her hell for being here, he might even stop her from ever working for the FRU, but right now she didn’t care. She’d let Chan down, but the least she could do was put his body where it really belonged.

Burnett didn’t speak; he simply walked up and knelt down beside her. He put his hand on her shoulder and her breath hitched.

“What happened?” he asked, no anger in his tone, just concern.

It took a second to swallow the unshed tears from her throat to answer. “He came here and joined the gang, the Crimson Blood. They say he died. Just died.” She blinked. “They said it was ten days ago, but it couldn’t have been. He doesn’t look … like he’s been dead ten days.” And she’d seen him. Seen him at the fence. Was it possible that…?

“They could be telling the truth. The V-one virus delays any form of decay in us. It can take as much as two weeks before our bodies start to break down. But we will do an autopsy. If there’s any foul play involved, you know I’ll do my best to catch those responsible.”

She nodded. And suddenly she couldn’t stop the tears. “He called me. He called me a couple of weeks ago and I didn’t call him back.”

“You couldn’t have known this was going to happen,” he said, and then stood. “Come on, I’ll get you back to Shadow Falls. Holiday’s concerned about you.”

She stood as well and then stopped. “No, I … Kylie and Miranda don’t even know I’m gone.”

“I’ll call them and let them know what happened and that you’re okay. I have a team showing up any minute to take the body. We need to do it before light.”

Della looked one last time at Chan, knowing she’d never see his face again. Never see him smile that silly quirky grin again.

But when she started walking with Burnett, she realized she was wrong. Chan stood peering at her behind a tree. And he wasn’t alone. Someone was with him, half hidden. Chan waved. He had a sad smile on his face. Della’s steps faltered.

Sorry. I’m so sorry, Chan.

“You okay?” Burnett asked.

“Yeah,” she said, “I just thought…” When she looked back, Chan was gone.

“Thought what?”

Thought I saw a ghost. “Nothing, I’m just tired.”

But she wasn’t that tired. She was seeing ghosts. How the hell was that possible?

At ten that morning, Della sat alone at the kitchen table in her cabin. Sleep-deprived and feeling like she was dying inside, she found that even breathing hurt. Earlier, she’d spoken to Kylie and Miranda briefly, and told them she’d explain more later. They would be there after lunch, which gave her a few hours to prepare herself to tell the story again.

She’d also learned that Steve had gone back yesterday to the vet’s office. Which explained why he wasn’t here when she showed up. She’d bet Jessie was happy.

Holiday had spent several hours here commiserating and offering warm, comforting touches. But her comfort didn’t last. Even Holiday said that grief was the one emotion a fae’s touch had less effect on.

But Della wasn’t sure which emotion she felt most. Grief or guilt.

And the camp leader sensed this, too. If she’d told Della once, she’d told her a dozen times … it wasn’t Della’s fault for not talking to Chan.

Della didn’t buy it. Maybe Steve and his doctor buddy could have done something. Or perhaps she could have gotten Kylie to heal Chan. If she’d called him back.

If? If? If? Why the hell hadn’t she called him back?

She’d almost told Holiday about seeing Chan at the gate and again tonight, but at the last minute decided to wait and ask Kylie about it. The fact that she could see ghosts should have scared the shit out of her, and maybe it would when she wasn’t drowning in other emotions.

After Holiday left, Jenny came by. She’d wanted to come in and offer her condolences, but Della blocked the door. “I just need to be by myself.”

The girl nodded, looking rejected, and turned to go.

Guilt pricked Della’s conscience. “Jenny?”

She turned around as if hoping Della had changed her mind. Of course, she hadn’t. “Thanks for understanding.”

The girl nodded, ran up the stairs, and hugged her. “I know I’m not as cool as Kylie, but I think of you as my friend. And I know you must be hurting and I want you to know I care. I wish I could turn myself into fae like Kylie could, and take away some of your pain. But I haven’t mastered that yet.”

“I’m fine, but thanks.” Della forced herself to say the right thing. Not just because it would have been rude to do otherwise, but because she did like Jenny. And through unwanted tears, she watched the girl leave. Finally alone again, Della went back in and plopped back at the kitchen table. She listened to Chan’s message about a dozen times, and each time it hurt more than the last.

She looked at her phone on the table. Part of her said she should call Steve. She’d told him yesterday that she would. But if she called him now she might start crying. She didn’t want to cry anymore.

What she wanted was to reach into her chest and yank out the pain. She wanted to go back in time and do things differently. Call Chan back. Never sleep with Lee. Make her daddy love her a little more so he wouldn’t turn his back on her.

She heard footsteps moving toward her cabin. Had Steve heard the news and come? Her heart ached to have him here.

She inhaled. Not Steve.

Chase’s scent filled her nose—a scent that again tickled her memory. She sure as hell didn’t want to deal with him. Right then she remembered her theory that Chase had been meeting Chan. She’d obviously been wrong.

A knock sounded on her cabin door. Why had he come here?

“Go away,” she said, head down, staring at her hands laced together. She could hear the carbonation fizzling from a Diet Coke she’d opened but hadn’t drunk. She almost felt the same fizzing inside her head, inside her heart.

The cabin door opened and she smelled and heard the black-haired vampire take a few steps inside.

She didn’t look up. “I said—”

“I know, I heard what you said.”

She finally glanced up. He stood there staring at her, his arms crossed over his chest, his posture making a statement of defiance.

And yet you came inside anyway. This was why the guy infuriated her. “Leave,” she seethed. She had too much on her plate to have to deal with him.

“I heard about your cousin. I just wanted to say … I’m sorry.”

Her chest gripped. “Fine, you said it. Now leave.”

He took a few more steps inside. “You don’t need to just sit here. You need to go run, move. Spend some energy. It’ll help with … everything,” he added.

“You don’t know what I need!” she snapped, and it felt good to have a target other than herself to aim her anger at.

“Yes, I do. I know…” He paused. “I know how you…”

“How I what? Don’t you dare tell me you know how I feel. You don’t have a clue what I feel. You don’t know me, you are just…” A crazy, lying vampire who I know I’ve met, but don’t remember. “Leave, damn it!” She growled and showed him her canines.

He still didn’t budge. Was she going to have to throw his ass out?

“Look, I lost my whole family in one day. My father, my mother, my sister. Hell, all I had left was Buster. My dog.. So I do know how you feel. And I know that just sitting at that table letting grief consume you isn’t going to help. What will help is to move. Spend some of the energy. It’ll help deal with the pain. So let’s go for a run. Come on.”

She didn’t move. Her mind chewed on what he’d said. He’d lost his entire family. Was that a lie?

She didn’t think so.

“Don’t make me have to drag you out of here,” he said.

She frowned. “You couldn’t drag me.”

“Oh, yes, I could.” He half smiled as if he’d enjoy the challenge. “Come on. I promise it’ll help.”

Swallowing her pride, she nodded. “Fine.” She lit out. He was right behind her.

At first, she kept her feet on the ground. The hard footfalls against the solid earth felt good. She pushed herself, fast and then faster, until she was in full flight. But the stamina it took to keep moving, and moving fast, was extreme. Her intent wasn’t for it to be a race, but it turned into one. She would get ahead of him, and he would move faster. Energy from being emotionally overloaded fueled her speed.

But no matter how fast she went, she never got more than a few feet in front of him. Each time he’d pass her, he would glance back as if baiting her. She took the bait, each and every time.

How fast was this guy? As fast as Burnett?

They never left the Shadow Falls property. She lost count of how many times they circled it. The tops of the trees appeared in a blur as she moved. She wasn’t even sure how long they’d been at this, she just kept going. All her focus went on flying, and the ache in her heart, the grief and regret, finally lessened.

Damn it, Chase had been right. This was helping.

But how long could she keep it up? How long could she push herself to the extreme? As long as he could, she thought. But after another five minutes, she cratered and admitted he’d won. Slowing down, she landed by the lake. Her descent wasn’t pretty. She hit the ground, lost her footing, and rolled.

Before she could come to a complete stop, he caught her and stood her up. “I’m fine,” she tried to say, but couldn’t push the words out while still trying to draw in air.

She bent at the waist, her lungs working overtime to pull in much-needed oxygen. Just when she finally caught her breath, her stomach roiled. Unable to stop it, she heaved and lost the contents of her stomach. Lost it all over Chase’s feet.