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“Probably not.”
The lights flickered on again. He looked back at Della. “Now go catch up on some rest. You look like shit.”
Holiday pulled her daughter closer, pressed a hand over her ear, and shot her husband a frown.
Burnett made an apologetic shrug. “Sorry. I mean, you look … awful.”
Della glanced at Holiday. “He’s such a sweet talker. How did you get so lucky?”
Holiday chuckled, then stood and touched Della’s shoulder. A warmth traveled into Della’s chest and for one second Della wished she could just give in to it and forget about all her other problems.
“He occasionally says the right thing. And as poorly as my husband put it, you do look tired. Go get some rest. Miranda and Kylie should be here in a couple of hours. And I know they are going to be over the moon that you’re back. And there’ll be no resting then.”
Della heard Burnett telling Lucas about the basketball court. She looked back at the stubborn vamp, then frowned again at Holiday. “It’s not fair. I need to work this case. I knew them. I care, damn it!” Her voice shook, escaping around the knot forming in her throat. “Why can’t he see that?”
Holiday sighed. “You are working this case. Mrs. Chi is coming to you with clues. And when you’re exhausted your chances of channeling a ghost are less likely. Plus, I’m sure Burnett will fill you in as soon as he hears from Lucas.”
Della, certain she couldn’t change Burnett’s mind, and doubtful Holiday was going to help her out this time, shot out of the office.
She exited the cabin door, and had one foot on the porch when Holiday called out from the doorway.
“Yeah?” Della asked. Her gaze fell on Hannah as the baby gave her a big smile. Della felt almost guilty being in such a bad mood.
“If Chase gives you any problems, I want you to come to me. You got that?”
“I think I can take care of him.” Della frowned, not liking the fact that everyone seemed to think that she couldn’t handle Chase.
“Yeah, but why should you have all the fun?” Holiday smiled with empathy.
Della recalled Chase saying almost the same thing. “What cabin is he staying in?”
The camp leader hesitated.
“I need to talk to him. I’ll find him either way,” Della said. “It’ll just take me a little longer and I won’t have as much time to rest.”
Holiday frowned. “Fourteen. But remember … no bloodshed. Only I get to do that!”
“Fourteen,” Della repeated and watched Holiday close the door. Turning to leave, she noticed the bird that stood perched on the porch rail. But with only one thing on her mind, she kept going. She’d gotten down the first step when she felt that odd kind of tingle down her spine. The someone’s-staring-at-you kind of tingle.
She looked left. No one.
She glanced right. Nothing.
Then she remembered the damn bird. She swung around.
The black grackle—so black that it looked almost blue—cocked its head and stared right at her. She recalled crossing paths with the shape-shifter, John, when she’d first arrived.
“John?” she asked, waiting for the bird to speak. The feathered creature just stared. “What?” she asked. “What do you want?” It remained silent.
She waved her hand out to see if it would fly away.
It didn’t.
A normal bird would have scurried away.
Convinced it was John, she took a step closer. “Fly away or I’ll pluck a feather,” she warned.
The bird flapped its wings, but didn’t leave its perch. Not very John-like. The teen, only half shape-shifter with limited shifting abilities, was as skittish as a mouse with an inferiority complex. Nor could the teen completely disguise his scent. She took a deep breath. Nothing. Nothing but bird.
