When they passed through the gate into the parking lot, Chase’s shoulder brushed against hers and she did a quick sidestep. He looked at her and frowned, and then spoke. “That was scary.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” she said with sass.
He glared at her. “Do you always have to be a smartass?”
“Only with special people,” she said.
“So, you admit I’m special.” He smiled. But the smiled vanished quickly. He ran a finger under her eye. “You do look tired.”
She moved his finger away. “I’m fine.” But in truth, he was right. She was tired. Borderline exhausted. And she hadn’t even started to digest everything that had happened today.
He nodded. “Do you think it was the ghost who almost caused the accident on the highway?”
A tickle of fear stirred in her gut thinking the ghost had that much control. “I don’t see why she would do it.”
“I know, but it was weird. I don’t know if you saw it, but all the cars started going a little crazy right before it happened. And for a second there, it almost felt like the car was driving itself.”
“You think she possessed your car? Possessed a bunch of cars on the freeway?” Della asked, not wanting to believe it. Nope. Didn’t want to!
“After what she did in there, I think it’s possible. Besides, Holiday said—”
“No.” Della shook her head. “She did the freaky ice thing in there to prove to a point. She didn’t need to prove anything on the highway.”
He exhaled as if he only halfway believed her. To be honest, she only halfway believed herself.
“All I know is I don’t like it.” Chase lowered his voice as if afraid the ghost might be listening. “And I want you to tell her to stop this crap. Let her know we’ll do our best to find Natasha and Liam, but stop messing with my car and my head.”
“Wait,” Della said. “Let me see if I understand … you want me to tell her this?” Sarcasm spilled out with her words.
“Yeah,” he said as if he didn’t understand her issue.
“Why don’t you tell her?” Della slipped a hand to her hip.
He made a face. “She’s your ghost.”
“My ghost? Why the hell is she my ghost?”
“Because she’s closer to you.”
“Says who?”
He opened his mouth and nothing came out right away. Then words spurted out of his lips. “Because … Because she…” His eyes widened as if he’d figured something out. “Because she gave you the picture of Natasha. And Natasha has some connection to your family.”
His reasoning made sense, perfect sense, but Della didn’t want to see it that way. Refused to see it that way. She didn’t want to be alone in this with some dead person. Sharing it with him wasn’t the ideal situation, but she hadn’t come up with this plan.
“That doesn’t make her mine,” Della insisted. “She talks to both of us. We’ve got joint custody here, buddy. You should have thought about this before you bonded with me. And don’t you try to skip out of your responsibility.”
“It’s a ghost,” he said. “Not a baby.”
“Same thing!” she muttered and turned to walk away.
“There’s a big difference.” His words still reached her ears. “Bye,” he said when she didn’t stop walking. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bye,” she offered, but didn’t look back.
She started down the dark trail. An achiness swelled in her chest. Each step toward her cabin hurt just a bit more. Hurt as if she was walking away from something that felt like home, instead of going to it. The sensation of being alone consumed her.
Or maybe not so alone.
A strange, repetitive whooshing noise came behind her. A kind of scary, repetitive whooshing noise. Her heart did a small tumble.
Did ghosts whoosh? And smell like … fowl?
Chapter Eighteen
Refusing to give in to the urge to run like hell, Della swung around, her canines already out and her eyes feeling tight as if glowing.
The damn huge bird cocked its head and looked at her. “It’s just me.” Perry’s voice came out of the bird’s beak as sparkly bubbles started popping off, signaling that the shape-shifter was changing form.
“You realize I could have ripped your head off,” she seethed, watching the bird fade and Perry appear.
“Because I scared you, or because you’re mad at me?” he asked, his words a little slurred due to his beak being in the process of turning into lips. Della looked away—it was too creepy to watch.
Staring at the woods, it took only the tiniest fraction of a second to remember why she would be mad. Perry was leaving. And forget the fact that she would miss the twerp. One of her best friends was going to be devastated.
Della didn’t like people devastating someone she cared about. Even when the person doing the disappointing was also a friend.
She swung back around. “Definitely because I’m mad. And I wasn’t scared!” Her heart thumped to the tune of a lie, but shape-shifters couldn’t hear that, so her little white fib didn’t count. “Do you know what your leaving is going to do to Miranda?”
He frowned and kicked at the dirt. “It’s going to hurt me, too. But what am I supposed to do? Turn it down? It’s my one chance to maybe…”