She kept walking. Kept listening to the sound, feeling almost called, or lured, by the soft splashing noise. After several minutes, she realized it must be the falls she was hearing, because she was indeed heading toward it.
She’d only been there once. Kylie had begged her and Miranda to go with her. They’d refused to go, then felt bad and gone after her.
Della suddenly stopped walking. What the hell was she doing? Why was she going to the falls? The place scared the bejeebies out of her.
Or it had.
Now … she didn’t feel as afraid as she did … curious. She stood there digging the toe of her tennis shoe into the dirt and trying to figure out what compelled her to continue forward. Oh, hell, death angels hung out at the falls. It was said they danced on the walls behind the falls. And death angels stood in stern judgment of all supernaturals.
Della didn’t think she’d committed any crimes serious enough for them to burn her alive—and according to Miranda that could really happen—but no way was her soul lily white. Hell, just this morning she’d brought Jenny to tears by saying the wrong thing. And her failure seemed even worse when Jenny’d spoken up and offered her blood for her.
Chills ran down her back. She really should just turn around and go back to her cabin. But then the sound grew louder. Like music being played off in the distance. Maybe she could just get a little closer to it, not actually go all the way there.
She continued moving, more frightened by her lack of fear than fear itself.
Something didn’t feel right.
Suddenly anxious to get it over with, she started running—moving fast, so fast the trees became only a blur to her left and right. So fast her breathing seemed a bit labored and her hair flipping to and fro actually stung when it swiped across her face. But she continued. She kept waiting for that cumbersome feeling, that sense that she shouldn’t draw any closer.
It didn’t come.
She didn’t even think about the direction to take, she simply followed the sound. The soft bubbly sound became hypnotic. She came to an abrupt stop at the water’s edge. A thin sheet of water fell from about sixty feet above off the edge of the embankment, tossing tiny pin drops of water onto the variety of plant life and rocks.
Oddly, while a lot of the forest had changed with the season, here the color green thrived. It even smelled green. Fresh, clean. A little bit like spring. It smelled like life, new life.
The sun sprayed golden light through the trees, making all the tiny water droplets twinkle like Christmas lights. The view was like something out of a fairytale. A magical wonderland that didn’t exist.
Della clearly remembered standing in almost the exact same spot months back and feeling nothing but terror. Where was her terror now?
Was this how Kylie saw this place? But wow, why did it feel so different now? What did this mean? Or did it mean anything at all?
She longed to move into the water, to step behind the sheet of water, to take it all in, but something held her back. Something inside her said, Not yet and maybe never.
Where the heck had that come from? she wondered, and then felt a bit insulted.
“Why not now? Why not ever?” The questions slipped from her lips, and as crazy as it sounded, she felt as if someone listened. But who? When no answer floated back, she tossed out another question. “Who are you?”
Still no answer. She felt it then, a feeling that she shouldn’t be here. That she wasn’t welcome. She took one step back, her whole being instantly filled with the terror that she’d felt the last time. The beauty of the place was suddenly lost to her, and only the creepiness remained. Poised to turn around and flee, she heard it. A subtle snap of a twig. Someone … or something … was behind her.
Pain exploded in the back of her head as if she’d been struck by … by …
She fell to her knees, black spots appeared in her vision, and the last thing she saw was a shadowy figure dancing behind the spray of water.
Chapter Eight
The smell was hideous. Her gag reflex started bouncing in her throat.
“Is she coming to?” a voice somewhere in the distance asked. She recognized the voice. Holiday.
Della felt a hand move under her nose, carrying the smell. Growling, she reached up and caught the hand and held it away from her nose. Only then did she open her eyes. Only then did she see the opened clove of garlic.
Only then did she find herself staring right at Steve.
“It’s me,” he said.
“That stinks!” she spouted out, shaking his hand until he dropped the clove.
He stared down at her with concern. “Garlic works as smelling salts on vampires.” His gaze shot to his hand. “Would you mind not breaking my wrist?”
She released her tight grip and tried to get a grip on the situation. Tried to wrap her head around what she was doing … here. Tried to figure out where “here” was and how in Hades she had gotten … here.
“What happened?” A deep voice tossed out the question. The inquiry bounced around her sore brain.
Sore brain or sore head?
Her gaze shifted and she saw Burnett standing several feet away from the table that she was resting on.
Freaking great! Here she wanted to look capable to him, and this happened. But exactly what had happened, she still didn’t know.
“Thank God you’re okay.” The very pregnant Holiday came rushing to the table.
“What happened?” Burnett asked again.
Della blinked and tried to find the answer to Burnett’s question, as well as about a dozen more questions that zinged back and forth in her head.
The words I don’t know formed on her tongue, but she knew how ill received they would be by Burnett, so she struggled to find a better answer.
Problem was, she didn’t have a better one.
“I … I…” Bits and pieces of memory started rolling around her head. She’d gone on a run and ended up at the … She went to sit up. Steve, standing close, tried to help her. She nudged him away. She didn’t need any help, thank you very much.
Sitting up, dangling her feet off the table, she glanced around the room. Between the garlic smell and Steve’s spicy scent, she caught the scent of … animals.
A poster of two kittens chasing a butterfly drew her attention, and then her gaze flipped back to Steve. A worried Steve.
She realized she was at the veterinarian’s office. Which doubled as a doctor’s office for supernaturals. At least one of her questions was answered. Now she just needed to figure out why.
Burnett cleared his throat, his gaze locked on her as if waiting for her to answer his question. And he didn’t look too patient.
“I went for a run.” She thought harder. “I ended up at the falls.” She recalled hearing the sound of water running, but for some reason it sounded too crazy to say. “I … I was leaving but I heard something, or someone, behind me.”
“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.
“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.”