He let her suffer for a few seconds before he started talking. “The most important thing is that he’s in California right now, and has been for the last three days. So it wasn’t him you got a trace of last night.”
“How … how do you know this?”
“The FRU aren’t the only ones who have databases. I had the Vampire Council do a rundown on him. When I was heading home last night, they got back with me. We’ve got him on a watch list. At one time, he belonged to a gang that targeted vampires. Supposedly, he’s dropped out, but we have an address on him. I paid a visit to his home. His girlfriend told me he was in L.A. He does some stunt work for a few movies. But he’s flying home on Friday night. I think we should meet him at baggage claim, don’t you?”
Della’s mind spun. “Yeah.” But she couldn’t deny feeling disappointed that Damian wasn’t the one at Uck’s Burgers whose trace she’d picked up. Especially when that was the trace the ghost had given her when she’d been watching the interview. How did this all fit together?
Exhaling, she stared down at her bare toes. “Have you told Burnett this yet?”
“Not yet. I thought I’d tell my partner first.”
Something in how he said “partner” made her stomach flutter. And it was a good flutter—as if she was part of something … or someone … that mattered.
She brushed her hair from her face and looked back at her bedroom door when she heard footsteps running up her cabin’s front porch. One deep breath and she recognized the witch’s scent.
“Here comes Miranda,” Della said into the phone. “I gotta go. Call Burnett and fill him in. If you don’t, he’s going to be pissed.”
“Isn’t that his regular state of being?”
“Just do it.” She hung up as her bedroom door swung open and Miranda rushed in.
“What’s wrong?” Della asked.
The witch took a deep breath as if she’d been running. “Kylie told me Shawn was stabbed,” she said, sounding a bit panicked. “Is he okay?” She still had her fork in her hand as if she’d gotten the news during breakfast and forgot to leave it behind.
Della made a rash and quick decision to manipulate the truth a little. Hey … if Kylie could play matchmaker, maybe Della could pull it off. “I don’t know. He was hurt pretty badly. I have his number. You should call and check on him.”
Shawn had actually been fine. A few stitches and he was as good as ever. He’d given his number to her and Chase when they left, just in case they got anything else on the werewolf. Supposedly, he was going to continue helping them with the case.
Miranda frowned. “Why would I call him?”
“Hmm, let’s see. Maybe because you’re worried enough about him that you ran all the way from the dining hall, with a fork in your hand, to ask me about him,” Della said.
“But … I’m not … we’re not … friends.”
“You could be.”
Miranda rolled her eyes. “I remember what you said about him putting out pheromones and all, but he’s older than I am.”
“By what? Two years? Call him.”
“But I’m not … I just…”
Della could read the witch’s mind. “Has Perry called you?”
A sad and pathetic look filled the witch’s eyes. “No.”
“Let me see if I understand. Perry tells you he wants to take a break from your so-called relationship. He leaves. You give him a magical phone that can call you anytime, anywhere, and he hasn’t bothered to use it. Right?”
Miranda’s bottom lip trembled a bit, but she nodded.
“Then damn it to hell and back! Call Shawn!”
Della pulled out her phone and texted Miranda the warlock’s number. “Call him!” she snapped when the witch’s phone dinged. “We had a deal, remember?”
Miranda pouted and stared daggers at Della and it was hard to do both, but she managed. “Did you keep up your end of the bargain … with Chase? Because if you didn’t, I’m not—”
“He had his hand in my bra, and I had mine on his bare ass. Does that constitute my end of the bargain?”
* * *
An hour later, on the way to math class, Della’s phone dinged with a call. She glanced at the screen; it was one of those junk calls trying to sell her insurance. But right before she went to stick her phone back in her pocket, she realized she hadn’t spoken with her mom in … forever. Her mom didn’t call every day, but at least twice a week Della would get the “just checking in” call.
The realization swirled around her head, then dropped like a dead bird in her heart. Was her mother trying to forget she existed along with her dad now?
Or maybe her mom was just busy. Before she could chicken out, she hit her mom’s name in her contact list and listened for the ring.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
It went to voice mail. “Hey, Mom, it’s me, Della.” In case you forgot who I am. “I just realized we haven’t talked, and I wanted to make sure everything is okay.” I love you. Miss you. “Call me.”
Della had just tucked her phone back into her pocket when Holiday came walking up.
“Hey, I was looking for you.”
“Why, did my mom call you?” Della asked, thinking maybe she’d just somehow missed her mom’s call earlier.
“Uh, no. Is something wrong?”
“No, I just … I haven’t heard from her in a while. Has she called you lately to check on me?”
Holiday pondered a second. “Not in the last week. You worried about something?” the camp leader asked, picking up on Della’s emotion.
“Normal crap,” Della said, and then asked, “What did you need?”
“Oh, well, I needed to stretch my legs and thought you’d join me.”
Della studied the camp leader. “What did I do?”
Holiday laughed. “Nothing.”
“So what do you need to talk to me about?” Della asked. “And don’t tell me nothing because that would be a lie and good faes don’t lie.”
Holiday made a face. “We do sometimes. White lies.” She grinned. “So, okay, I want to talk with you, but you’re not in trouble.”
“If you’re pregnant and want me to deliver your second child, the answer is no,” Della teased. “I’m not over the first one yet.”