“Not yet,” he said.
“When you do, please call me.”
“Don’t worry about that right now,” Burnett said. “You go do as Holiday said and rest.”
“You are going to let me work the case, right?”
He growled again.
Knowing when to shut her trap, she swung around and started walking back to her cabin. She got past the first bend and then looked at the woods. Would her attacker’s scent still be lingering at the falls? It was probably too late.
Or was it?
The memory of the terror she’d felt for those few seconds before she’d been hit had her gut knotting. Not fear of the intruder, she hadn’t sensed them at all, but fear of the falls, the death angels, and what they stood for: judgment. Having your life picked apart and all your sins thrown at you like rocks.
Fear curled up in her gut, and vowing never to let fear stop her, she took off into the woods, right back to where trouble started this morning.
The ugly sensation of being unwelcome swelled in her chest as she drew closer, but she’d be damned if she let that stop her.
The death angels were going to have to deal with her visit.
Or they’d deal with her. Again. Could they have done this?
What confused her was why the hell she hadn’t felt the cumbersome feeling coming here this morning. And why, for a little while, the falls looked like some kind of paradise instead of a creepy hangout for dead people.
Stopping a few feet from the edge, she inhaled deeply. The cascading sound of the falls echoed too loudly, as if to chase her away. Dampness seemed to make the trees heavy. Dark shadows swayed on the ground, adding to the haunted feel.
She pushed back the terror crawling up her spine like prickly-legged spiders, raised her face, and breathed in, hoping to find a scent.
Only the smell of wet dirt lingered in the air. But if someone touched something, the scent would hang around longer. She walked closer to a couple of trees, thinking someone might have touched the branches. Nothing. Her gaze shifted and fell to a rock on the ground. Wasn’t that right where she’d been hit? Was that what had bashed her in the head? She picked it up. Bringing the stone to her face, she took a deep sniff.
When the scent filled her nose, her breath caught. Fury, raw and pure, started building, bubbling inside her chest. She dropped the rock, growled, and went to collect her pound of justice.
Chapter Nine
Della hid behind a shed outside the school building, checking her phone for the time every few minutes. Holiday hadn’t said what time she planned on stopping by, but if she came and Della wasn’t “resting,” there’d be hell to pay.
Della didn’t plan on paying hell, she planned on collecting it.
And from one person in particular.
Staring back at one of the three cabin classrooms, she couldn’t get close enough to smell if he was there … well, not without being seen. But classes would end in a few minutes, and if he wasn’t here, she’d have to … The classroom door opened, the new vamp was the first one out, and she felt her fury inch up a degree or two.
He started strolling straight toward the woods.
Great. She preferred to do it without an audience.
Waiting a few minutes for the crowd to scatter, she followed.
Did he know she was here? Probably. Since she’d already picked up on his scent, he’d probably done the same.
But she didn’t care what he knew. It was time for their powwow. And it wasn’t going to be pretty. Hell seldom was.
She spotted his green T-shirt and faded jeans moving between the trees. She’d barely passed the first line of small trees when she realized he’d disappeared. She growled, felt her eyes brighten with anger, and lifted her face to the wind to catch his scent.
“You looking for me?” a voice came from above.
She looked up. He sat perched on a limb about fifty feet off the ground, casually shifting his legs back and forth as if he’d been hanging out there all day. Or as if he was showing off.
But for what? So he could climb trees. Climb trees fast. Did he think that made him special?
The sun peeked behind a cloud and caused her to blink. When she opened her eyes, he’d disappeared again.
What kind of game was he playing? “I’ll find you,” she growled. “And when I do—”
“You won’t have to work hard. I’m right here.” His voice came from behind a tree.
She shot over, ready to ring his neck, but found the space empty.
“Behind you,” he said, so close she could feel his words on the back of her neck.
She swerved around, caught him by his shirt, and yanked him to her. “Stop it,” she seethed, and tightened her fist with wads of green cotton between her fingers.
“Stop what?” he asked, his pale jade eyes so close she saw his pupils change size.
She twisted her hold on his shirt, almost to the point of ripping it, just to let him know she meant business. “You hit me and you’re going to be sorry.”
“Hit you? Where did you get that idea?” he asked.
“Your scent was all over the rock by the falls.”
“Yeah, Mr. James, I mean Burnett, asked me to go there and see if there was any scent left behind when he took you to the doctor.”
She listened as his heart thumped against his chest bone at a normal pace. Of course, he could still be lying, but … why would he when all she’d have to do is ask Burnett?
A slight smile appeared on his lips as if he knew just what conclusion she’d come to. He leaned in a bit. His breath stirred in her hair. “You’re cute when you get mad.”
She shoved him back.
He barely shifted, giving her only an inch, not enough. She could still feel his presence. Smell his skin. See humor dance in his eyes.
“That falls place was creepy, by the way,” he said.
She almost asked if he’d gotten any scent, but didn’t want to be beholden to him for anything.
Yeah, I’ll bet the death angels were eager to put some fire to his egotistical ass. She recalled her other reason for needing a powwow with him. “Last night, were you following me?”
“Following you?”
Her canines came out a bit. “I saw you when I went to meet Burnett at the gate to go to…”
“The FRU case?” he finished.
She clenched her hands. “You were there.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t following you. I couldn’t sleep and was taking a run. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your little rendezvous.”