Bonded.

The smell, it was hideous. Something touched her nose, and she went to wipe it away and heard a loud crash. She tried to open her eyes; they felt dry, raw. Her tongue felt stuck to the roof of her mouth.

“I told you the garlic wasn’t a good idea,” a voice said. “She didn’t mean to knock you down. Now can you please take it out of here?”

She recognized the voice, but it wasn’t Steve’s. Was it … Chase’s?

She remembered hearing him moan. Remembered thinking he might die. That wouldn’t have been right.

Forcing her eyelids open, she realized she wasn’t on the sofa any longer, but in a bed. She looked around, having to squint to focus. Holiday’s bedroom.

Burnett sat in a chair beside the bed. Something moved on the floor. She lifted her head slightly and saw it was Dr. Whitman. She didn’t mean to knock you down. Burnett’s words echoed in her head.

Had she done that?

Burnett leaned in and studied her. “She’s awake,” he said to the doctor. “Can you leave us?”

“You sure it’s safe?” the doctor asked as he got to his feet.

“I’ll be fine.” Burnett looked at her.

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Della ran her dry tongue over her parched lips. “Where’s Chase?”

Burnett frowned. “He’s gone.”

She lifted her head off the pillow as emotion filled her chest. He’d died saving her. Grief, real and deep, took over her lungs and made it almost impossible to breathe. “He died?” It felt as if her heart had been yanked out. An empty hole left in her chest where it had once beat.

“No,” Burnett said. “He left. Probably didn’t want to face me.”

The sense of loss didn’t go away. Less grief and more … anger. He left her? Saved her life and then ran off? What kind of person did that?

Burnett held out some water. “Drink. I know you’re thirsty.”

She reached for it but quickly he pulled it back.

“Easy,” he said, “or you’ll break it.”

She made a face and caught the glass in her hand. It shattered in her grasp. “Crap,” she muttered, and stared down at the glass and water on her chest.

Burnett grimaced. “I warned you.” He stood up. “Don’t move, I’ll get it.”

He pulled a trash can over and, using a towel, carefully removed the glass. “It will take some time to get used to it.” He dropped back in the chair and reached for her hand to check for injuries. There were none, or if there had been, they had already healed.

“Used to what?” Her head still spun in a fog. Her heart still ached with abandonment.

“Your new powers.”

She closed her eyes and recalled Chase saying something about that, but so much of what happened was a blur. Normally, the idea of more powers would have had her jumping up and down, but not now.

It seemed somehow insignificant. Chase was gone.

She sat up. Maybe she could find him. “Where did he go?”

“Who, Steve?”

“No. Chase. Do you know where he went?”

“No.” Burnett stared at her as if something was wrong.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing. I just … I don’t understand this part.”

What part was he talking about? She shook her head. “Would you mind explaining what part you do understand? Because I’m pretty much in the dark here. And a little damn light would be appreciated.”

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I was fourteen. I got sick. The pain was excruciating. My foster parents took me to a doctor, but I don’t even remember that. They said I almost died. When I woke up, I was a hell of a lot stronger than I used to be. That’s most of what I remember.”

He paused and took a deep breath. “All supernatural doctors are registered. And when my report came across the FRU table, I got my first visit from an agent.”

Bits and pieces of what Chase had told her started coming back, and suddenly she realized what Burnett was saying. “You’re a Reborn.”

He nodded.

“But I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you have said anything? I know you are strong, but I’ve never seen you do what … Chase can do.”

“You can’t tell anyone either, Della. The vampire society—mainly the rogue society, but even some of the good guys—maintain an Old West mentality. The fastest gun in town is nothing but a challenge. Someone’s always looking to best you.”

He glanced down at his folded hands and then back up. “Look what happened when Chase showed too much of his power at the bar. The gang leader called him out. Your powers are a gift, but one you should downplay constantly and only use in dire emergencies. You don’t have to pretend to be weak, but you never show all your cards. To do otherwise puts your life, and those you love, in jeopardy. It’s worse than being a protector, which is seen as something honorable. This is viewed as someone being a badass. It makes you fair game.”

She shut her eyes a minute, hearing what he was saying, but it didn’t seem to be the thing she needed to worry about. She willed herself to remember everything that had happened and tried to put the pieces together. “You knew Chase was a Reborn,” she said. “How?”

Burnett nodded. “I saw him flying the first day he showed up here—which he shouldn’t have done in a place anyone could have seen him. I immediately started investigating him. I worried there was a reason he was here. Then I was hoping it was just to get involved with the FRU. I didn’t know he was here because of you.”

“He was here because of me?” Her voice came out raspy, dry. The question had just left her lips when she remembered. He said he’d been looking for someone and then he’d admitted it was her.

“Yes.” He picked up the water pitcher and poured another glass. He handed it to her. “He told Steve he’d been sent here to make sure you survived.”

She took the glass carefully. Her mind spun. She took a small sip. It actually burned her throat, and so did her next thought. Chase had suffered for her. Endured the pain. Then it hit: He’d done it for her, but not for Chan. “Chase could have saved Chan?”

Burnett nodded. “I don’t think it was his fault, Della. Chase told Steve that Chan was too weak. His odds of survival were very low. That it only works if the Reborn is strong enough. I don’t know if all of this is true, this transfusion procedure is new, but at this point it makes sense.”




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