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“So you’re hiding something.”
Chase frowned. “From Burnett, not you. And if I get anything I’ll tell him. I just … I’m afraid he wouldn’t allow me to go. I’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission.”
“Why wouldn’t he let you go?”
Chase pulled his phone out and checked the time. He had three minutes before he had to leave or he’d be late. “The inmates aren’t the best hostesses. Normally when someone goes in, they go with several guards. Because I’m not really working for the council anymore, he’s going to let me sneak in, so it will just be me.”
“Then take me,” she said.
He shook his head. “He wouldn’t let you in either.” Not to mention Chase wouldn’t let her near that place. These were the worst of the worst lowlifes.
“Then don’t go.”
Her stubborn expression made him smile. “Careful, Miss Sass, you almost sound like you care.”
She scowled. “Don’t make more out of it than it is.”
He walked over to the kitchen and filled a bowl of dry dog food for Baxter. He felt her eyes on him and loved knowing he had her attention. She always had his whenever he was within a hundred feet of her.
She took a step closer. “Do you even know if someone there has information about this Stone guy?”
“No. That’s why I’m going.”
She stepped closer. Was that really worry in her eyes? Yup, it was. He’d kiss her if he thought he could get away with it. Problem was, he wanted to do so much more than kiss. He wanted to run his hand over that little splash of sweet skin low on her abdomen. He wanted to take that top off of her and …
“Why would they tell you anything?” She tugged down her shirt as if she sensed it distracted him.
But it was such a sweet distraction. “Because they don’t have anything to lose. Because they might think it’ll offer them some salvation. It’s a long shot, but I have to do it. We want to catch this guy, remember?”
“Yes, but…”
Baxter brushed against his leg. Chase knelt down. As he gave the dog a good rub behind the ears, he pressed his forehead against the dog’s snout. And damned if he didn’t catch a different scent.
Disappointment tightened his gut. He stood up. All he could think about was where on Della’s sweet body the shape-shifter had touched. His head said to ignore what he knew and leave. His heart didn’t listen. “Can you do something for me?”
“Go with you? Yes.” She tilted her chin up.
“No. It’s a lot easier than that,” he said between tight lips. “While I’m off risking my life to try to get your dad off of a murder charge, don’t hang around Steve.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but he didn’t stay around to hear it.
* * *
Della stormed back to her cabin, wearing her bloody pajamas, and madder than a trapped raccoon. She’d already texted Chase and asked him to change his mind.
When she swung open and slammed the door, Miranda let out a loud yelp that could’ve woken the dead. And considering the dead seemed to hang out around here, that wasn’t an exaggeration.
“She’s here!” the witch screamed into her phone. “But—oh, God! She has blood all over her. And I still feel it.”
Feel what? “I’m fine,” Della snapped.
But too late. The door behind her swung open and Kylie ran inside. Whenever the chameleon was in protective mode, she lit up like one of those glow sticks that was losing its power.
“What happened?” She still held her phone to her ear.
“Nothing.”
Kylie dropped her phone from her ear, pointed to Della’s bloody tank top, and waved her finger around the disaster of their cabin. “Try again.”
