“You expect us to believe that’s real?” mouthed off the redheaded were. “You show up in the middle of the night, at our graveyard, with your girl toy there and expect us to believe you’re on official business?”
The girl toy comment just about did her in. Della growled, her vision brightening, telling her that her eyes had as well, and her canines came out to play.
“She’s not a toy.” Burnett’s eyes now glowed a lime green, but his gaze shot back to the man standing in the middle as if he sensed he was the leader of the pack. “Show me your registration papers and tell your mouthy friend to back down or you all will be spending a night in FRU custody.”
“Do as he says.” The head of the pack pulled out his wallet. Della saw the redhead pull something out of his pocket. She spotted the tiny little problem immediately. It wasn’t a wallet. It was a blade.
With a speed she didn’t know possible, she bolted forward. Before he could say “uncle,” or even think to say “uncle,” she caught the were by his wrist, twisting his arm behind his back. In another fraction of a second, she’d knocked him down to his knees. Burnett suddenly appeared at her side, but he simply watched. Meaning he had faith in her. Her chest filled with the similar pride she’d felt earlier during flight. Making Burnett proud was almost like making her dad proud.
She snatched the knife from the were’s hand, then pushed him facedown on the grass and put her knee in his back to keep him there. Amazingly, her breath still came evenly, her pulse didn’t race. She hadn’t even had to exert herself to do it.
“Do yourself a favor and stay down,” Della said to the no-good dog beneath her. “Or don’t. A good fight would suit me just fine.”
The were raised his head back. Della saw the bright orange color of his eyes reflected on the ground. “I had to get my knife out to get to my card,” he growled.
“Yeah, and Girl Toy had to take it away from you,” Della snapped back.
Della could swear she heard Burnett chuckle.
“Just shut up, Evert,” the lead were said. “I’m sorry for his behavior. He’s new and obviously too hotheaded for this job.” He held out an ID card, basically a driver’s license but with a marking that meant he was registered, toward Burnett.
“I didn’t know you were real FRU,” the guy under Della’s hold growled out.
The other were pulled out his wallet and produced his own card, too.
Burnett looked at the cards, then handed them back. He inched a step closer to Della and knelt down beside the guy facedown on the ground. “I’m going to try to talk my agent-in-training into releasing you, but you’ll want to get up real slow. Then, you’ll want to apologize, and I’ll leave it up to her whether or not she thinks we should take you in.”
Della moved off the lowlife’s back. He stood up, keeping his still-orange glowing eyes on her the whole time. “Sorry,” he muttered, but his tone made it clear he considered the apology below him. She wondered if it was because she was a vamp, or if it was because she was a girl. A girl toy. Guess he’d think twice before calling someone else that.
Burnett shook his head. “Surely you can do better than that.”
He glanced at Burnett and then back to Della. “I’m sorry.” Fury radiated from his tone.
For some reason, Della’s mind went to the last guy who’d forced an apology out of someone who’d disrespected her. Chase. She pushed that thought away and the slight sense of longing it brought on.
Burnett looked at her. “Do you think we should take him in and let him spend a night regretting his behavior?”
Della glanced up at Burnett. He was really going to leave it up to her? She looked down at the pathetic excuse for a knife the were had pulled out of his pocket. “Nah, but I think he needs to know if he’s going to pull a knife on a vampire, it should be more than a pocket knife.” She handed the two-inch blade to Burnett.
Burnett nodded at the were. “Leave before I change my mind.”
The redhead ran away, his limber gait reminiscent of all weres. Suddenly, silence fell like a soft rain, and that silence seemed to echo inside Della. Toeing her shoe into the green manicured lawn, she watched the were fade into nothing but a speck on the landscape.
For the first time, she became aware of her surroundings. Silver moonlight spilled over the flat terrain. Tombstones rose from the ground like arms of the dead reaching for the sky, needing escape from the cold earth.
Every few feet, an aging statuary of a saint or an angel stood above the stones, as if guarding the graves. But were they protecting the dead, or keeping them entombed?
The sad and haunted environment brought it all back—the reason she was here. To bury Chan. But the ghostlike chill and the thought of being underground also brought to mind Natasha and Liam.
Heavy grief accompanied with a sharp sense of urgency filled her lungs. Della swallowed a shaky breath and wondered how and when Chan’s body would arrive.
A cold tingle ran down Della’s spine. Was it a ghost? Feeling dazed, she forced herself to look back at the live people standing to her right. Burnett took a step forward toward the pack leader.
The were, a good three inches shorter than Burnett, didn’t show fear, nor did his posture provoke aggressiveness. “Not to defend my ex-employee,” the were said, “but I must say, you showing up at a graveyard that is managed by weres is rather strange.”