Saved at Sunrise (Page 3)

"Fine." She lit out of the room.

He lit out with her, and within seconds had transformed into a hauling-ass Peregrine falcon. She wasn’t certain, but she thought she’d heard this was one of the fastest birds that existed. It wasn’t a half-bad-looking animal, either. Its feathers were a blend of browns, tans, and black. Its eyes were striking, round, with large black pupils that seemed to take everything in. And when it stretched out its wings, it almost looked like it had leopard spots.

Della didn’t know a whole lot about shape-shifters, but she’d heard once that one sign of their power was they could shift quickly. He’d shifted into a bird pretty damn quickly. Not that she was impressed or anything.

Sort of like flirting, Della Tsang didn’t get impressed. Not about guys.

Not anymore.

Not since she’d turned vampire, turned cold, and had her heart shattered into tiny little bitty pieces by the guy who was supposed to love her forever.

* * *

Della landed with a thud on the pavement in the back of Walmart. Steve, still a bird, landed elegantly beside her. His wings stretched out wide.

Immediately, he started turning back into human form, and as always when a shifter turned, sparkly bubbles began floating around. One of his transformation bubbles lingering in the evening air popped on her arm and sent a tiny electric current up her elbow, zinging like she’d walked on carpet and then touched something metal.

"What are we doing here?" Steve asked, looking confused.

"Bedding and disinfectant." She brushed off her elbow then looked up. The sky was darkening, and the stars hadn’t yet come out to play. Lifting her nose in the air, her vampire sense of smell caught the hint of werewolf under the strong scent of motor oil.

"Something wrong?" Steve asked.

"A few werewolves, but not too close."

He frowned. "Damn, let’s grab what you need, snag me a burger, and get the hell back."

She smirked. "You scared of a couple of werewolves?"

"Scared, no. But we don’t need any trouble right now." He started walking.

She moved with him. "Sometimes trouble is fun."

"Yeah, but let’s save our energy for any trouble that finds us tomorrow."

"Anyone ever accuse you of being boring?" she snipped.

"No, but I’ll admit, I’m more of a lover than a fighter."

She kept an eye on the dark shadows, making sure something didn’t lurk there. "Please, that’s so lame."

"Lame, but true." Humor sounded in his voice.

"I’ll stick with lame," she muttered.

She imagined him smiling again, but afraid she’d be pulled into his smile, she didn’t chance looking at him. Hearing the laughter in his voice gave her stomach flutters. Or was she just hungry and needing some blood?

Entering the store, they made fast work of buying two flat sheets, a couple of pillowcases, two blankets, and some disinfectant. And Steve tossed in a bag of chips. At the fast-food place next door he got his burger to go, but he wolfed it down as they left the joint to find a desolate spot for him to transform so they could head back.

He’d finished the burger when they started down a dark alley behind the strip center. She noticed he stuffed the sandwich wrapper in his pocket. The guy didn’t even litter, never mind the alley was covered in trash. They only got about ten feet down when they heard a scream.

A life-or-death-sounding scream.

Chapter Two

Della stopped, her gaze zipping around to locate the screamer. Steve jerked her into the dark shadows. A woman suddenly appeared at the other side of the alley running like the devil was chasing her. And he might’ve been, because someone slapped the pavement right on her heels.

A male someone.

"What are they?" Steve whispered, standing so close she could feel his words against her cheek.

They were too far away to note the pattern in their foreheads which marked a person’s species-something all supernaturals could see-but Steve obviously trusted her sense of smell. She inhaled and tried to find the scents in the air besides the spicy male soap that filled her nose. "Humans."

"Good." He took off down the alley.

The girl screamed again as the attacker tackled her. Della, plastic bag in tow, beat Steve to the scuffle. The man on top of the female shifted back and forth, using the woman as a punching bag. Della snagged the creep off the obvious victim and tossed him a good five feet in the air. Not enough to kill him, but hopefully enough to hurt when he came down.

Blood oozed from the woman’s nose and mouth. "You okay?" Della asked and crouched beside her. When the scent of blood filled her nose, Della had to work at not letting her eyes start to glow from hunger.

"Yeah." The woman sobbed out the word. "He’s my husband, but he’s drunk." She wiped blood from her lip. "He gets mean when he drinks."

But he wasn’t the only one drinking. Della could smell booze on the woman’s breath.

"This wasn’t your problem," a deep voice seethed from behind Della. If she hadn’t been so intent on the woman, she’d have heard him coming.

Della glanced up. Looming over them stood the drunk husband, who she obviously hadn’t thrown nearly hard enough. Of course, that could be fixed.

He reached for Della, fury in his eyes and alcohol on his breath. "But you made it your problem now, bitch!"

Before she could shoot up, Steve caught the man by the arm and swung him around.

Fists started flying. Della heard what sounded like a few punches hitting bone. She could swear the jerk got a punch in on Steve. Bolting to her feet with plans to end the fight, Steve ended it first. He threw a hard right. The woman’s dear old husband took that right directly to the face and fell over cold.

It would have been nice to savor the moment of success, but a pair of flashing blue police lights appeared at the end of the alley. Steve turned to Della. "We need to get the hell out of here."

Della grabbed her bag and they took off at a sprint. In the distance she heard the cops yelling for everyone to stop. They didn’t. They couldn’t.

Burnett hadn’t been specific about them not getting arrested, but she had a feeling he’d frown upon it.

"Police! I said stop," the policeman yelled again. Footsteps echoed behind them, making their way down the alley.

They cut the corner into a side alley, and Della didn’t know if they had time to get the hell out without the officers seeing their escape.

* * *

The refrigerator at the cabin didn’t have an ice machine. She supposed she should be glad it had one ice tray with five pieces of ice in it. She emptied the five tiny cubes into a new pillowcase and handed it to Steve. His eye was almost swollen shut. "Hold it against your eye," she said.