“Look behind you,” he said.
“Get out of here,” she repeated, still adjusting her towel and fighting the pain.
“Look behind you,” he said again, and now he was the one who looked afraid.
She glanced over her shoulder, breath held, not knowing what she would see. Nothing stood behind her, just her reflection, and the reflection of her dead cousin, staring at her with sad eyes.
She turned and faced him again, and slight movement sent her world spinning. She waited for it to stop. “Look at what?” she managed to ask, gripping the counter for fear she’d fall.
He raised his arm and pointed behind her. She glanced back again and again saw nothing. But then, in the midst of the fog, Chan’s image faded.
She slowly turned her head to the front again. He was gone.
Look behind you. His words echoed in her head. Do it!
Shaking on the inside, she didn’t know which was worse. Seeing him, or hearing him in her head.
Still, she did as he requested and looked over her shoulder again. “What am I supposed to see?” she asked, her words seeming to be sucked up by the steam. The pain in her head seemed to spread to her shoulders.
“What am I supposed to see?” she said again, her patience thin.
Only a deadly silence answered. She couldn’t hear the water running anymore. She couldn’t hear herself breathe.
She blinked and was just about to turn around when an arrow was drawn in the steamed-up mirror. Pointing to her reflection. She followed the arrow. And she saw it.
“Shit!” She dropped the towel. All dread of ghosts, dread of being na**d in front of ghosts, vanished. A different kind of fear built in her chest.
Her heart raced and simultaneously the pain in her head and shoulders pounded harder. Standing na**d in the foggy bathroom, she heard Kevin’s words echo in her head. They said he got sicker and then he got a weird rash on his back and then he died. Just died.
Della stared at the splotchy red markings starting at the back of her neck and running down her spine. They kind of looked like feathers.
Reality set in. She had the same thing Chan had. She had the same thing that killed him.
The bathroom door opened. She expected Kylie or Miranda.
She reached to get her towel. Using all her energy, she stood, and her head swam, black dots appeared in her vision, but she focused on the door. Her breath caught when she realized she’d been wrong. It wasn’t Kylie or Miranda.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Chapter Thirty-six
“You lied,” Della accused, eyeing Chase, shocked he was in her bathroom. “You were never looking for anyone.”
“I was,” he said. “I was looking for you.”
She had to work to focus around the pain. “You knew Chan, my cousin.”
“Yeah.” His gaze moved over her.
Realizing she was only wearing a towel, she said, “Leave.”
“I tried to. Couldn’t do it. A conscience is a terrible thing to acquire. Like it or not, you and I are going to be bonded.”
“Bonded?” She shook her head, only to realize that any kind of movement made the pain worse.
His gaze swept over her towel-covered body. “It could be worse. You could be ugly.”
“Get out of my bathroom!”
He walked out, but didn’t shut the door. She slumped against the counter, dizzy again. The fog in the bathroom seemed to seep into her mind. Had he really been here? Had she just imagined him? Had she imagined Chan and the rash, too?
“Here.” The panty perv, real, not imagined, walked back in as if he had every right to be in her bathroom. He had some of her clothes in one hand, her phone in the other.
He set the clothes on the counter. “Get dressed.”
“Get out!” A chill, this one coming from inside her, raced down her spine. Her insides trembled. Her head throbbed.
“Get dressed or your shape-shifter friend is going to be pissed when he sees us together and you’re na**d. Not that he won’t be pissed anyhow.” He said the second part almost to himself. “But it’s too late to try and find someone else.”
“What?” she asked, not understanding.
“Get dressed.”
“With you standing there? Not likely!” Her voice trembled and she had to clench her jaw to stop it.
He gave her his back. “Get your clothes on. We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Time for what?” She spit the question out between gritted teeth. An odd kind of déjà vu hit. She remembered feeling this way once before. The chills. The pain.
Chan had been with her.
Staring at Chase’s back, she dropped her towel and reached for her clothes. In the mirror she saw him turn around.
His gaze swept up her na**d body.
She growled. His focus went to the mirror, to her eyes.
“Sorry. I thought you were dressed.”
Sorry, his ass! Or hers, because it was her ass that was bare. She showed him her canines, then continued dressing.
He continued to watch.
“Why were you at Chan’s?” she asked, managing to slip on the sweats and pull the T-shirt over her head. But each move cost her. Her head pounded. Harder.
Chase looked at her phone. “Let’s get your shape-shifter here.” He pushed a button.
Pain shot from her neck down her spine. Unwilling to let him start more trouble between her and Steve, she grabbed for her phone. Chase caught her hand. Her pain intensified. She didn’t have the strength to pull away. Her knees gave, and she fell against him. He wrapped his arm around her and held her there. Why did he feel so warm, and her so cold?
“It’s okay,” he whispered in her ear. “We’re going to make it through this.” She felt his hand move gently against her back.
It was not okay!
She managed to push away, caught herself on the counter, but her whole body ached. Muscles she didn’t know she had clenched. Tears filled her eyes. Yup, this was how it had felt to be turned.
“Hey, Steve,” the panty perv said into the phone, while looking at her. “This is Chase.”
Della could swear she heard Steve’s voice angry.
She tried to get the phone again. Chase caught her with one hand, gently, nothing rough about his touch. He didn’t have to be rough. She didn’t have the strength to fight him. But she resented that his touched came so tender.
She fell back against the counter again. Breathing hurt.
“Shut up and listen,” Chase seethed into the phone and studied her with empathy. “Della’s running out of time. I’m taking her to Holiday’s cabin. Meet us there. I know what I’ve got to do to save her, but I’m going to need your help.” Chase hung up.
Della stared up at him. “What’s happening?”
“Do you remember being turned into a vampire?” he asked.
The fact that he knew what she felt scared her, confused her. “Yeah. Why?”
“There are a few lucky, or in most cases, unlucky vampires, who get to do it twice.”
She shook her head. “I’ve never heard of that.”
“You wouldn’t have. It’s rare.” He reached for her. “Let’s go.”
“No!” She held up her hand. “Not until you explain.”
He frowned. “Okay, fast version. Of the hundred bloodlines proven to carry the virus, there are six who are prone to rebirthing.”
She tried to think around the pounding in her head, the pain clenching at her shoulders. She thought ofthe rash. “The same thing happened to Chan?”
Chase nodded.
“You did it,” Della accused. “You poisoned us or something.”
“No.”
She had just enough clarity to notice he didn’t blink. So was he telling the truth? Did she even have enough wits about her to judge that?
“Here’s the thing,” he continued. “Less than three percent of Reborns survive. But the few who do, have tenfold the power. Thankfully, a study done by a doctor associated with the Vampire Council found a way to up the survival odds.”
“What way?” she asked.
“You bond with another Reborn.”
“Bond? Bond how?”
“A complete transfusion. You take the antibodies of someone who survived. It’s the same premise used to create vaccinations. But in this situation, it links the two vampires. They become almost a part of each other. It has been compared to the relationship shared by identical twins or perhaps soul mates.”
She tried to wrap her head around everything he said. She stared at him. “You are a Reborn?”
He nodded. “Good thing we like each other, huh?”
“I don’t,” she snapped. “I don’t like you.”
He leaned in. “Your heart doesn’t lie, Della Tsang.”
So maybe she liked him, but … “I don’t want to be bonded with you.” Her heart didn’t jump this time. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be bonded to anyone, but if she did, there was a shape-shifter she had her eye on.
Chase sighed. “Honestly, at first I wasn’t all that crazy about it myself, but let’s make the best of it.” He held out his hand. “Come on, let’s get this done. The sooner we do this the less we’ll suffer.”
“We?” she asked. What was this “we” crap? He obviously wasn’t hurting.
“I’ll go through the process with you. When I get your blood.”
Her mind raced. He was going to suffer … willingly? He had to be lying.
She didn’t take his hand. “I’ll get Kylie to heal me. I don’t need you to … call her.” She motioned to her phone.
“Healers are wonderful,” he said, “but they won’t work on this. For the past five hundred years, the few Reborns who survived had to sit back and watch their entire families die. Being as powerful as they were, they brought in witches, wizards, and the most talented healers. With zero success I’m afraid.”
“How do you know so much?” A charley horse latched on to her chest, and she could barely breathe. Her knees started to give.
“After going through it myself, I took an interest in finding out what it was all about.” He moved in and swept her up in his arms. “Time to go.”
She put her hands on his chest as he started out. “I don’t want this.”
“You’d rather die?” He stepped out on the porch. The cold wind stirred her hair. She shivered in his arms.
“Maybe I won’t die. Maybe I’ll be one of the three percent.” Just like that she remembered, Take me instead.
Maybe God had needed that extra soul after all.
“Those are really bad odds.” Chase lit out, full flight, and without ever running.
He flew faster than the wind, holding her to his chest as if she was something he treasured. She wasn’t his to treasure.
He landed in front of Holiday’s cabin and walked in as if he owned the place. He laid her down on the sofa. There was a table with some medical stuff set out, as if he’d already been there.
Another pain hit; this one shot from her neck down her back. It felt as if her spine were breaking. She gritted her teeth to keep from crying.
When it passed, she gasped for air. He brushed a hand over her forehead. “You don’t have to be brave. I know it hurts like hell.”
A second later, she felt a damp cloth move over her forehead. The gentle touch reminded her of Chan. He’d been there for her. The first time. That’s when something occurred to her. “It doesn’t work,” she said.
“What doesn’t work?” Chase asked.
“The bond thing. You were with Chan. You couldn’t save him.”
Chase’s expression tightened. “I didn’t do it.”
The grief she felt for her cousin bubbled up inside her along with the pain. “You let him die?”
Guilt came and left Chase’s eyes. “I tried to save him, but he wasn’t like you.” He looked at the door as if impatient. “How long does it take to get from the vet’s office?”
She didn’t answer. “What do you mean he wasn’t like me? He was my cousin. We’re from the same bloodline.”
“Same bloodline, yes, but he was weak. No spirit. No fire in his belly. You push yourself. You’re a fighter. He had no fight in him.”
“Chan fought for me. He pulled me through the first turn. He didn’t owe me anything, but he stayed with me. He cared. If not for him, I don’t know what would have happened.”
“I didn’t say he wasn’t a good person. I said he was weak. I tried to get to him to run, tried to help prepare him for what he was going to endure. He wouldn’t even try. He lay there and let himself get sicker. Even if I’d bonded with him, the chances of him surviving were so damn low. And I’d have…”
“You’d have what?” she asked, finding it hard to breathe.
“He wouldn’t have survived. He had no fight in him. And if I’d tried, I wouldn’t have been able to…”
“To what? And how do you know he wouldn’t have survived if you didn’t even try? You let him die.”
Chase exhaled. “I wanted to save him, I couldn’t.”
Her head pounded; her heart ached. “I don’t want your blood in me.”
The front door swung open and slammed against the wall. Della could barely sit up, but she did enough to see Steve storm in. He growled, a low ominous sound, aimed at Chase; then he rushed between them and dropped to his knees beside her.
She felt his hand on her brow. “You’re burning up.” He slid one arm under her. “I’m taking you to Dr. Whitman’s office.”