Della looked at the clock on the bedside table. She had to meet Chase. “Crap, I’ve gotta go.”

“You know we should at least talk,” Chase said, his words not even a whisper.

At least her hearing wasn’t out. “About what?” Oh, she knew what she’d like to tell him, but she wasn’t sure now was the time.

Della looked across the table, wishing it were someone else sitting there. Wishing she didn’t appreciate the width of his shoulders, the daredevil way he carried himself, or the sharp cut of his jawline that made him look more like a man than a boy. They’d met and flown to this old abandoned house in the middle of the woods that the local gang had turned into a blood bar. Not a nice bar, but there were at least six vampires here. Supposedly the local gang in the area thought they had enough traffic through the place to make a go of the business.

Della did another causal visual around the room and took a sip of the blood Chase had ordered her. It was A positive, and it wasn’t fresh, but she hadn’t had dinner, so she drank it without complaint.

“I don’t know. We could talk about the weather, sports, or maybe what’s got you so pissed at me,” he said, obviously deciding he didn’t need to whisper anymore.

“I hear it’s supposed to rain tomorrow?” she said sarcastically.

He laughed.

Della glanced at a couple of guys sitting across the room. Rough-looking vamps with a bottle of whiskey that they kept adding to their blood. One was blond, one dark-haired, but it was long and hung in a ponytail.

For the first fifteen minutes all the patrons, even the bartender, had stared daggers at them, but now they seemed to have lost interest. Della remained on guard. She had to. Her sense of smell still hadn’t come back. So she was studying people, looking for anyone suspicious. Anyone with short dark hair, or who looked like a killer. Not that she knew what one looked like, but damn it, she could still try.

“Come on. What did I do to tick you off?”

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She met Chase’s eyes, her fury still equivalent to that of a wet hen with PMS, but her need for vengeance would have to wait. They had a case to work on.

“Funny, I didn’t take you as the type to hold your tongue,” he taunted.

He’d gotten that right. She’d never been one to believe silence was golden. Oh, what the hell, they could talk as long as they didn’t say anything about their assignment.

“You meant to cause trouble when you brought my phone back.”

He pursed his lips as if debating his answer. “Maybe.”

She scowled.

“Okay, probably. But I thought the guy needed to know he had some competition. While you were away on Friday, some chick—the same chick—called him three times. And she was flirting with him. I don’t know what you two have going on, but I didn’t think it was right.”

Della’s heart nosedived to her stomach. Jessie had been calling Steve? Ahh, but now wasn’t the time to get caught up in that heartache. She cut Chase a cold look. “It’s none of your business. You shouldn’t have been listening to his calls.”

“True, but I’m making it my business. Like I said, I like you. I think this thing we’ve got going might lead somewhere. So I want to look out for you.”

“I don’t need you to look out for me. And for this to lead anywhere, I’d have to reciprocate in the liking.”

“You like me,” he said with a confident smile, and damn if her stomach didn’t flutter at the sight of his sexy grin. “You just don’t realize it yet. I’m an acquired taste. Like one of those strange beers from other countries. It takes a while for a person to get used to me.”

“I don’t like beer. And I don’t like—”

“But you’re here.”

“Only because…” She caught herself. “There’s a dozen other people I’d prefer to be with right now.”

“Only twelve? You care to tell me their names? I’ll start knocking them off.”

She showed him her fangs.

He laughed and picked up his blood, staring at her over the rim of the plastic cup. “How are you doing with … the whole cousin thing?” The lightness had vanished from his tone.

She recalled his story about losing his whole family. He’d probably made it up. “How are you doing with your whole family thing?” she said with accusation.

Something flashed in his eyes … anger, grief. Maybe he hadn’t made it up.

“So you weren’t lying?” she asked.

“No.” He cut his gaze around, lifting his nose up to check for familiar scents.

“Anything?” she asked.

He looked back at her, almost too fast. “No. You?”

No way was she going to tell him her sense of smell was out. She lifted her face as if testing the air. “No.”

Footsteps heading their way sounded in the background. Della prepared herself for company and possible trouble. One of the rough-looking guys drinking whiskey dropped in the chair beside her and leaned close.

“Hey beautiful,” he said, his mouth way too close.

Chapter Twenty-five

“You two are new around these parts.”

Della backed up. He looked to be in his early twenties, but he also seemed as if he’d had a rough life. He looked her up and down and then glanced at Chase.

“Since you don’t seem to be her type, I thought she might like me better.”

So the creep had been listening. Not that she hadn’t been eavesdropping on him and his friend. But their talk about how they’d played football in high school hadn’t been all that interesting.

“We’re just having a bit of a tiff,” Chase said, his voice deepening. “She’s with me.”

“Is that right, Sweetie?” he asked Della. “You know, at first, I thought you worked here. You know, as a professional girl.”

Had he just told her she looked like a prostitute? She frowned. “First, I don’t work here. Second, my name’s not Sweetie. And third, if I’m anyone’s girlfriend, I’m his.” She turned to Chase, and when he tilted up his mouth in a wicked almost grin, she rolled her eyes. “Which I’m not,” she added quickly.

“A shame,” the half-drunk vamp said, his gaze shifting back to Chase. “You see, I’m not an acquired taste, I’m delicious from the first bite.”

He showed his canines—which could use a good brushing—and Della suspected the pun was intended.




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