“I don’t think so, but I don’t want to bring the FRU down on him.”

Derek nodded and then looked at his watch as if he had to be somewhere. “Do you have his name and birthday, and the day he died?”

“Everything but the day he died,” Della said. “Oh, and I have a picture.” She went to pull it out of her pocket.

Derek held up his hand. “I have to … I’m supposed to meet Jenny. Can you scan the picture and e-mail it to me? And send any info you have on him. Where he was living. If he’d lived anywhere else recently. I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll try.”

Hope welled up in Della. “I’ll go home and send it to you right now.”

He turned to go, but Della was suddenly so giddy with the possibility of this actually being true that she grabbed his arm and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you!” It only took a second for her to realize how odd that was—her initiating something that almost resembled a hug.

“You’re welcome,” he said, and pulled away, looking at her a little strangely. But for once, she didn’t care. The thought that she honestly might find an uncle—a man who looked just like her father—and have a family member who understood the whole vampire life was like unfriggin’ believable.

Maybe then she wouldn’t grieve so much for her own family. Maybe she could go back to thinking life didn’t suck so much.

That night Della couldn’t sleep. She should be exhausted, since she’d been too busy allegedly stealing her dad’s brandy the night before, and had only napped an hour during the day, but her mind kept running on the possibility of finding her uncle. She got out the picture and stared at his face. He looked so much like her dad. They must be identical twins.

She couldn’t help but wonder if the man’s approval would make her feel as proud as her father’s.

It suddenly occurred to her that her cousin Chan might know something about him. Perhaps his mom had mentioned the uncle when her dad wouldn’t? She jumped up and snagged her phone off her dresser and called. She didn’t even worry about the time; considering he was vampire, and living on the edge of rogue, he didn’t try to conform his sleeping habits to match the human ways.

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His phone rang and rang. It finally went to voicemail. “Hey, it’s Della. I have something I wanted to ask you. Can you give me a call?”

She hung up, but brought the phone to bed with her. Would he call her right back? She lay there staring at the phone for another hour, remembering he’d tried to call a week ago and she’d never called him back. Finally, feeling too antsy to just lie there, she decided to take a run. Maybe if she wore herself out, she might be able to sleep.

After donning a pair of jeans, she pulled on a top, and then the idea that she might run into Steve had her dashing to the bathroom to comb her hair and rinse out her mouth.

She popped her phone into her back pocket, then quietly opened the window and took off. The night held a chill, but it didn’t bother her. The moon, a silver crescent, hung a little low. A few clouds flickered in the black sky as if begging for attention. She ran to the edge of the woods, looking for a certain bird watching her from above. She slowed down to check and see if her hearing was on or off.

She heard birds calling, a few fluttering feathers in their nests above in the trees. A few crickets sang from beneath the brush, and something, a rabbit or a possum, stirred in the grass about fifty feet away. Her hearing was on. But glancing up, she didn’t see the particular bird she sought. Steve normally chose to shift into a peregrine falcon—because it was the fastest bird, he’d told her once.

As she started to move, her feet still hitting the ground, she maneuvered between the trees, dodging the branches, to spend some of the energy bubbling inside her. She recalled running earlier and finding Chase. Her mind flashed to the image of him playing ball without his shirt on.

She took a deep breath, tasting the air to make sure the panty perv wasn’t out tonight. The only scents she drew in were natural scents: the damp forest ground, and the smell of fall—that earthly smell of the leaves losing the battle to hold on to life, and turning from green to golds, reds, and oranges. As pretty as some people thought fall was, it was about death. And that was kind of sad.

She made the lap through the woods twice—never going into full flight. The large gate to her right marked the edge of Shadow Falls’s property. Her heart thumped in her chest. She inhaled, her nose picking up new scents … animals. A deer moved close by in the woods, its hooves stomping into wet earth as it darted between the trees with grace. Above she sensed a bird. She heard the wings flying over her. Glancing up, she saw the falcon pass in front of the glimmer of light from the moon.

Steve?

She stopped. Watched the bird swing around and land in the tree.

“You following me?” she asked. But her tone lacked any conviction.

She squinted in the darkness and could barely make out the bird. “I know it’s you, so just quit hiding.”

She heard the bird fluttering its wings. Was he mad at her?

In the distance she heard the deer coming toward her, but she ignored that and stared up at Steve perched on the limb. She bent at the knees and leapt up into the tree. Steve bolted back and fluttered his wings as if threatening to fly away.

“Stop pretending,” she said, and when bubbles of energy didn’t start popping off around him as he changed, she remembered running off in the middle of their latest flirtation session on the basketball court.

“Look, I had to go ask Derek about something. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

The bird lowered its head and made a slight noise.

“I’m sorry if it was rude. I didn’t mean to be.”

He still didn’t say anything or start turning.

“Are you mad because I wouldn’t kiss you? I told you I’m not the touchy-feely type. We’re not even supposed to be kissing. We’re not … together.” The bird cocked its head and gawked at her. “Don’t look at me like that. I know I’ve let you kiss me before, but … if you weren’t such a good kisser, I wouldn’t even be tempted.” Suddenly a noise stirred below the tree.

“You and the bird have made out, huh?” a voice said from below.

Della stared at the deer on the ground looking up at her. The deer that sounded just like … Oh, shit! The moon spit out just enough light so that she could see the bubbles popping off around the big buck. Once the bubbles cleared, Steve appeared.




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