“Are you going to be one of the lucky Burton attendees?” Burnett tapped the picture with his index finger. “I need info on this kid.” He looked the guy straight in the eyes. “Do you know him? Have you ever seen him before? I know he was hanging out in your gang’s territory.”
The vamp, probably no older than Della, glanced down at the image, and his eyes widened with recognition. In his round brown eyes, Della saw something else. Fear.
“He’s afraid,” Della said.
“He should be,” Chase answered. “I’ve seen Parkrow, you might as well go to hell.”
“No,” Della said. “When he looked at the picture he was afraid. He knows something and is scared to tell.”
The kid looked back up at Burnett. “I…”
“Burton or Parkrow?” Burnett said.
“I … uh,” the vamp stuttered.
“Fine,” Burnett said. “Parkrow it is.” He stood to leave.
“No,” Della muttered. “He knows something.”
Yes, he knows something. Find Natasha.
The voice echoed in Della’s mind. She looked at Chase to see if he’d heard it, but he didn’t appear to have.
Still reeling from the voice, Della got a fresh scent of werewolf again. She looked behind her to see if a were had somehow snuck in the room, but nope.
She inhaled again to see if she’d been mistaken. The scent hung on. And the familiarity of it tickled her senses. This was the same scent she’d gotten back at the restaurant.
“Do you smell that?” she questioned Chase.
He looked confused, but lifted his face and inhaled. “Smell what?”
Damn! The ghost was trying to tell her something. But what?
Her gaze shot back to the kid, to the fear in his eyes. “I don’t know shit,” he said.
Della saw his left eyebrow wiggle. Just like Chase’s wiggled when he lied.
Burnett stopped at the door. “You’re going to regret this.”
He’s lying. The ghost spoke again.
Burnett turned the doorknob. “No!” Unable to stop herself, she took two steps to the wall and raised her fist.
“Don’t!” Chase shot forward as if to stop her.
Too late, she pounded on the glass.
Both Burnett and the rogue vamp’s gaze whipped toward the wall. The kid looked kind of shocked, but Burnett looked pissed, and not just kind of, but full-blown, over-the-top pissed.
He shot out of the door. No doubt coming to have a powwow with the person who’d dared to knock. But that was okay. She needed to see him, too. She started toward the door when it flung open and banged against the wall so hard that tiny white pieces of Sheetrock fell like snow from the ceiling.
“What the hell are you doing?” Burnett roared. “You never interrupt an interrogation.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chase moved closer to her, almost as if fearing Burnett would strike her. Della knew better. Not that she didn’t fear Burnett. She feared disappointing him, feared he would see her weaknesses. But she never feared he would physically hurt her.
“I’m sorry, but he knows something,” Della snapped.
Burnett’s scowl deepened. “I know he knows something!” He tossed up his hands in frustration. “And he was about to tell me what he knows!”
“No he wasn’t. He was going to vague up the truth because he’s afraid.”
“No, he’s going to tell me the truth because he’s afraid!” Burnett demanded.
She shook her head. “You need to ask about the werewolf.”
“What werewolf?”
“I … don’t know. But if you ask … Wait, just let me ask him, I’ll act like I know more and I’ll get the truth out of him.”
“What?” Burnett seethed, and when she didn’t answer instantly, he shifted his glare to Chase. “What the hell is she talking about?”
Chase appeared confused, but then his light green eyes met hers and he almost smiled. “I’m clueless, but I’d bet my right arm that she’s onto something. If you’re smart, you’ll trust her.”
Burnett looked back at Della. “I do trust her. But I still need an explanation.”
Della gave one. One word. “Ghost.”
* * *
Della stood outside the door gathering her courage and pulling the elastic band of her big-girl panties up. She’d asked for this, now she had to come through.
Even with the core temperature of a vampire, she felt little pin-sized drops of sweat appear on her brow. Nerves. Nothing but nerves.
What if she was wrong? What if she’d only imagined the smell of were? What if the kid didn’t know crap? What if she failed? Both Burnett and Chase were watching back in the room with the glass wall.
Lordy! What had inspired her to do this?
Find Natasha.
Oh, yeah, that was what. The voice. The ghost.
Stiffening her spine, remembering Natasha and Liam’s lives were on the line, then cramming any sign of insecurity deep inside, she opened the door.
Remembering how Burnett’s presence had filled the room, she stepped inside. She didn’t immediately look at the vamp.
“They sent you in?” he asked in a condescending voice.
She crossed her arms and finally looked at him. “It’s because of what I know.”
“What do you know?” he asked, his brown eyes not showing the same fear as they did with Burnett.