“That explains the lump on your head,” Steve said. “Someone hit you with something.”
Della’s gaze shot to Holiday. “Would the death angels do that?”
Holiday’s brows puckered. “Why would they hit you on the head?”
“Because they didn’t want me there, because they’re jerks, because their mamas dressed them funny. I don’t know.” Her gag reflex wiggled again when she got a whiff of the garlic still on the floor.
“I don’t think it was the death angels,” Burnett said. “The alarm went off about three minutes before Holiday found you.”
Holiday leaned a little against Burnett. “It could have just been someone curious about the falls and they got spooked when Della showed up.”
“Being spooked doesn’t give anyone the right to hit her,” Steve said, emotion tightening his voice.
Burnett scowled and looked at Steve. “Can you please get the garlic out of here?”
Steve nodded, then looked at Della. “Stay away from the falls from now on.”
She cut him a hard look. It was bad enough having to deal with Holiday and Burnett. Steve didn’t have a right to order her around. They weren’t going out. The shape-shifter snatched the garlic cloves and left the room.
Holiday waddled closer. “Luckily, I was going to the falls, or you could still be there unconscious.”
So Holiday had found her.
“Why would someone break in just to hit me on the head?” Just like that, Della’s fury rose. “What kind of coward hits someone over the head? Why couldn’t they face me and fight?”
“Maybe it has something to do with the person who killed the couple,” Burnett said. “If you got a trace of his scent when he flew over, maybe he got yours, too. Did you smell the intruder before he hit you?”
Della tried to remember. “No, I … didn’t.” She wondered if her sense of smell was coming and going like her hearing. Since she was at the doctor, maybe she should mention it, but recalling Burnett’s belief that she wasn’t strong enough to be an FRU agent, she held her tongue. “I … think I was too weirded out about the falls.” It wasn’t a lie, but …
Burnett nodded as if he understood. Della wished she could buy it. Something was going on with her.
“But if it was the same guy who killed the couple, why would he stop at hitting me in the head? We’ve seen what he’s capable of doing.” She emotionally flinched as she recalled the bloody image of the couple.
“Maybe the death angels saved you,” Holiday said, and being a ghost whisperer, Holiday was one of the few who had a connection to the death angels. “Maybe they scared him off.” She set her hand on Della’s arm. The fae’s touch felt warm and chased away the emerging panic building in Della’s chest. Panic that Holiday probably picked up on with her fae abilities.
Embarrassed that she was having difficulty, she brushed Holiday’s touch off. “I’m fine.”
“It had to be upsetting,” Holiday said.
Upsetting? More like infuriating. “I’m fine,” she muttered again. And she would be fine as soon as she caught the creep who hit her.
Burnett glanced at Holiday. “If the death angels protected her, do you think you could get them to tell us anything?”
The idea of actually trying to communicate with the death angels sent another shiver down Della’s spine. “I wouldn’t bother them,” Della said. “They might have been the ones who did this and decide to come back and finish the job.”
Holiday shook her head. “I don’t think the death angels did this, Della.” Then she looked at Burnett. “It’s not as if I can just pick up the phone and ask them a question.”
Burnett didn’t look happy. “But you’ve gotten messages and visions from them.”
“When they feel it’s needed,” Holiday said, and then paused. “Frankly, my level of communication isn’t nearly as strong as someone else.”
“Kylie,” Burnett said, and nodded. “I’ll talk to her about it as soon as I get back.”
Steve walked back into the room, and this time Dr. Whitman was with him.
“Hello.” The doctor wore a white coat and came with the scent of anesthetic and a trace of dog. No doubt he really tended to the animals in his practice as well. Of course, she should have guessed that by the jar of dog biscuits on the counter. Della snuck a peek at the man’s pattern, half fae and half human.
The doctor’s gaze fell on Holiday. “How are you feeling? You remember we have an appointment next week.”
“We’ll be there,” Burnett said. For some reason it seemed out of his badass character to be a doting husband. Then again, she’d already come to the conclusion that he wasn’t nearly the badass he pretended to be.
Holiday motioned to Della. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Ahh, this one.” The doctor moved closer to Della. “I think she’ll be fine,” he said, but he looked puzzled as he tilted Della’s chin up to look at her eyes. “You have a concussion. But … concussions are practically unheard of in vampires. The virus…”
“I have a virus?” Della asked, thinking that could be what was messing with her hearing.
“The vampire virus,” Steve said.
“Oh,” Della said, thinking the doctor had found something else.
The doctor continued, “The V-one virus actually strengthens all the blood vessels and they heal before any real swelling occurs and can cause concussions”
“So why do I have a concussion?”
The doctor shined a light in her eyes. “Well, there is an exception.” His brows puckered as if puzzled again. “But I wouldn’t have been aware of it if I hadn’t…”
“Hadn’t what?” Della asked, not liking that the man didn’t finish his sentences.
Ignoring Della’s question, he walked around the table and started parting Della’s hair, touching a sore spot. She forced herself not to flinch at the pain.
“Does that hurt?” the doctor asked her.
“Not really,” she lied.
“Yes, it did,” Burnett, the walking, breathing lie detector, spit out, and frowned.
Della rolled her eyes at him.
The doctor continued to look at her bump. “You got a nice-size goose egg. And…”
“And what?” Della muttered, feeling like an idiot for being here.