Reborn (Page 26)

So he’d seen her and Steve together. Had she even tried to detect anyone? She growled at the vamp.

His smile widened as if he enjoyed knowing he got to her. Which meant from this moment on, she couldn’t let him get to her. She had to ignore him. Pay him about as much attention as a bug stealthily sneaking across a piece of dead grass.

“Fine.” She pivoted around to leave—to show disinterest—the heels of her black ankle-high boots leaving grooves in the dirt. Adios, asswipe!

“Hey, not so quick,” he spouted out, and flashed in front of her, blocking her path.

Damn, he was fast. Almost as fast as Burnett. No wonder he’d been able to hide from her in the trees.

She crossed her arms over her chest and shot him her best go-to-hell look. He didn’t go anywhere, he just stood there studying her as if she’d given him permission. But to call him on it would mean he was getting to her, so she lingered there as if his presence or his observation of her didn’t affect her at all.

The fact that it did bother her annoyed the hell out of her.

“Can’t you give a guy a break?” he finally asked.

“Arm? Leg? Neck? You name it, I’ll break it.”

He chuckled. And she so hadn’t meant it to be funny. But damn this guy was like a squeaky-voiced mosquito buzzing in her ear. All she wanted to do was smash him between her palms and wipe his remains on her jeans.

She moved around him and continued down the path.

“Can’t we talk?” he asked, sounding as if he was right behind her.

About what? What the hell did they have to talk about?

“No,” she snapped, and continued moving. She wanted to flash away, to put as much distance as she could between him and her as soon as possible, but that would tell him how much he aggravated her.

“Come on. I was even going to give up my stash of blood for you so you wouldn’t have to go off for an hour with that crazy blond vamp.”

She stopped and twisted around so fast he ran right into her. He caught her by her forearms and held her there. Their bodies came together. Her br**sts pressed against his chest. And since her br**sts weren’t that big, that meant they were really close. She pulled away.

“I thought you did that to help the blood drive? Or just to annoy me.”

He shrugged. “Maybe it was a little of all three.”

“Why?” she asked, now more curious and even more leery. She was almost positive she’d run across him before. His scent, his trace, was in her memory bank. And it stirred up vague feelings of danger.

“Why what?”

“Why would you give up blood for me?”

“To talk.” He shrugged. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

She listened again to his heart, steady and honest.

“I’m new here,” he continued. “And let me tell you, this place isn’t exactly friendly. You’re the only one I’ve clicked with.”

What? When had they … “We have not clicked,” she snapped. “If you’ll recall, I was going to kick your butt.”

He grinned. “But you didn’t.”

“I would have if Burnett hadn’t showed up.”

“You would have tried. But I’m going to overlook that.”

She barely managed to stop a frustrated groan. “You know, if you weren’t so damn arrogant, you might make a few friends around here.”

“I’m not arrogant. I’m confident. I know they sometimes appear the same, but they aren’t.”

Della had a vague memory of saying almost the same thing to Miranda. But she didn’t have to tell him she agreed. Frankly, having anything in common with this jerk pissed her off.

“Yeah, you just keep believing that.” She swung around and started back down the path.

“What is it? You afraid your shifter friend wouldn’t approve of us hanging out?”

She stopped and swung around again, but this time she put her hands out, prepared to stop him from touching her. Her plan backfired. Now he wasn’t touching her, but she touched him. Her palms pressed solidly against his chest. His heart pumped against his breastbone and the vibration melted in her palms. She could feel his solid mass of muscle, feel the coolness of his vampire skin. She yanked her hands away.

“I’m not afraid of anything.” It was a lie. She had fears, a lot of them—death angels, ghosts, losing people she loved, even an occasional spider—but she hoped he wasn’t listening to the telltale rhythm of her lying heart.

“So you two aren’t an item?” he asked, quirking one of his dark brows upward.

The phone in her back pocket buzzed. Using it as a reason not to respond to his question, and maybe not to even think about it, she snatched her pink cell out. Her mind immediately went to her unregistered vampire cousin Chan, who still hadn’t returned her call. What was up with that? Sure she hadn’t returned his call from the week before, but in his message, he’d said it wasn’t important. Probably calling to try to talk her into leaving Shadow Falls again. He didn’t seem to understand why she’d want to be here instead of living on the streets. And she couldn’t understand how he saw it the other way.

Her gaze caught the number on the tiny screen. Shit!

It wasn’t Chan.

It was Holiday. No doubt she was at Della’s cabin and probably pissed Della wasn’t following her instructions and resting. But dang it, she didn’t need rest. Nor did she need Holiday or Burnett pissed.

“Gotta go!” she moaned, and took off.

“Let’s do this again,” he called out.

“Yeah, when Hell starts serving soft-serve ice cream with sprinkles,” she yelled, and kept going, knowing she was probably going to catch hell when she caught up with Holiday. And then Holiday would tell Burnett and she’d catch double hell.

Della spotted Holiday before she dropped down. The red-haired, pregnant fae sat on Della’s front porch, her feet swinging off the edge, her hand placed on her belly, her expression one of tenderness as she whispered sweet words of affection to the unborn child. Della had almost texted Holiday back, but it would have taken the same amount of time to get there.

She came to an abrupt stop on the steps. Holiday looked up. Her mouth tightened into a disapproving bow. Whatever sweet affection she offered the child wasn’t going to be passed to Della.

“You were supposed to be resting,” Holiday scolded.

Della stepped up on the porch. “Sorry, I … I was coming here and suddenly felt the need to go back to the falls and see if I could find a trace or a clue of who did this.”