“And I was right,” the doctor said.
Della turned and looked at the man’s hazel eyes. “Right about what?”
“Yesterday, there was an article written up in Supernatural Medical about how a blow delivered in an exact spot, a half an inch behind the right ear, can cause a slight cerebral hemorrhaging in the one weak spot of a V-one-affected brain. While the odds of it causing any real damage are slight, it can render a vampire unconscious.”
“Which could be considered damaging,” Burnett snapped.
“I don’t like it,” Steve added, looking at her, concern still pulling at his lips.
The doctor scratched his jaw. “It almost feels too coincidental.”
“What’s coincidental?” Della asked.
“That I read about it one day and see it the next. It’s almost as if…”
“Are you suggesting someone read that article and did this on purpose?” Burnett asked, sounding annoyed at the man’s unfinished dialogue with Della. “Why the hell would anyone publish it? Why tell the world of our weak
spot?”
“The article was about a medical study,” the doctor answered as if it made it okay. “And I’m not saying it was intentional, I … I’m just saying it feels coincidental.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Burnett said.
Neither did Della. But the kind of people reading medical journals weren’t the type running around hitting people in the head. Were they? This didn’t make a lick of sense.
Then again, not much in her life made sense, not since she’d caught the dang V1 virus. She should be used to craziness. What she wasn’t used to was someone getting the upper hand on her. Someone making her look bad in front of Burnett. She’d never prove herself FRU-worthy like this.
But as soon as she figured out who that someone was, he’d have hell to pay. And she’d personally make sure he paid it, too. That might win her a few brownie points with Burnett. She even hoped he was the killer of the couple, because that would make her justice even sweeter.
A few minutes later, the doctor had just finished checking her blood pressure and instructing Della to take it easy for a while when a knock sounded at the door.
A girl, around seventeen, popped her head in the door. Her short blond hair bounced around her neck. Her big blue eyes shifted from the doctor to Steve, and just like that, her smile widened.
“There’s some people here. Friends of the patient.” She glanced at Della. Her smile faded. “Oh, and Dad, Mrs. Ledbetter is here with her cat. I put her in room two.”
“Fine,” the doctor said. “I’ll be right out.”
The girl took a small step back, and Della spotted Miranda and Kylie behind her. Miranda, always the more impatient of the two, wiggled between the girl and the door and ran to Della.
“Are you okay?” Miranda asked, her green eyes teary.
“I’m fine,” Della said, hating that she appeared like a sick little girl sitting on a doctor’s table. A doctor’s table that smelled like dog.
Miranda let go of a deep breath. “Lucas said he saw Burnett carrying you to the car and they were taking you to the doctor. Kylie and I both were panicking.”
“She’s going to be okay.” Holiday moved in.
“We were worried.” Kylie focused on Holiday as she moved inside. “Why didn’t you call us?”
“Because I didn’t want to worry you. I was just about to contact you guys.”
“You should have gotten me. I could have … helped.”
By “helped,” Della got that Kylie meant to heal her. Among all of Kylie’s talents, she was also a healer. The only problem was that every time Kylie healed someone she started glowing.
“I didn’t need healing. I’m fine.”
“Anytime there’s a brain injury, it can be difficult,” Holiday said. “My gut said I needed to get her to a doctor.”
“Well, your gut was wrong. I’m fine,” Della insisted again. She looked up and saw the blond chick, obviously the doctor’s daughter, still poised in the door. The girl’s gaze had slipped back to Steve. Della checked her pattern and saw she was part fae and part shape-shifter. An ugly feeling stirred in Della’s gut when she caught a scent of the girl’s pheromones polluting the air. So the girl had a thing for Steve.
Not that Della had any hold on him. They weren’t an item. And yet …
“What matters is you’re okay,” Steve said, sounding like someone who cared too much. Della also noted that he wasn’t paying the blond girl any attention. However, the chick was paying him enough attention for the both of them.
Kylie moved to the table and squeezed Della’s hand. “Don’t scare me like this. What happened?”
“How about let’s get out of this crowded room that still stinks and we can explain later.” Burnett waved toward the door.
Following Burnett’s orders, everyone started walking out like good little soldiers. Della slid her butt off the table.
Her feet hadn’t hit the ground when Steve moved next to her and caught her arm as if he was afraid she might fall. “Stop it,” she seethed in a low voice.
“Stop what?” he asked.
“Treating me like a weakling.”
“I’m just treating you like someone who cares.” His whisper came right at her ear. “Call me when you get home.” He ran a hand down her forearm. His touch sent a sharp twinge of emotion right to her chest.
She managed to nod and then frowned when she realized Steve would be staying here. Here with the pheromone-polluting blonde.
They all stood in the Shadow Falls parking lot. After being force-fed a few more hugs from Miranda, Della watched her two friends head off. She stood between Burnett and Holiday, waiting to see if she was going to be read the riot act for going to the falls in the first place—waiting to get a chance to ask Burnett if any reports had come in on the murder case.
“You need to go to the cabin and rest,” Holiday said.
“No, I’m fine,” Della insisted.
“No, you are not fine,” Holiday countered. “Go rest and I’m going to come by in a couple of hours and we’re going to talk.”
Oh, so the riot act is going to come later, huh? “But—”
Burnett growled. “Do not argue with her.”
Della let out a deep frustrated breath. “Have you gotten anything back on the autopsy yet?”