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“He’s got some whore he hangs with that lives in a house off Main and Chestnut in downtown Jamesville.”
“Address?” Chase started to drink.
“I don’t know the friggin’ address!” he growled. “But wait. It’s beside a cheap Mexican food joint. Right beside it.” He stuck his hand out for the blood.
Chase heard the truth in his words and considered whether to hand it over. Then deciding he believed the man and figured the rogue had enough hell in life, he passed him the bottle. He looked over his shoulder at the were still pressing on the bars.
Pope gulped the blood down. Chase started backing out.
“You ain’t got a chance, kid,” Pope said, pulling the bottle from his lips long enough to speak. “You think I don’t know who you are?” The scarred vamp laughed.
Chase stopped, almost certain the man was lying, but … “Who do you think I am?”
“He told me about you. You’re that doctor’s boy. Not really his, ’cause he’s Asian. He knows you’ve been looking for him. He knows the doc’s been after his ass forever. But he’s not gonna find him, ’cause the council ain’t gonna let him find him.”
Shocked that he did know, Chase paused. “Why would they protect him?” Chase asked, sensing the temperature in the room drop.
Get out. Get out now.
Chase heard the female voice, knew it didn’t belong to this world, but he couldn’t listen, not now. “Why would they protect a murderer?”
“Don’t matter,” Pope said. “Ahh, but you shouldn’t’ve poked around in the wrong places. He’s gonna find your ass.”
Right then came a metal screech, followed by the clank of a bar hitting the concrete. Chase swung around, or tried to. He must have forgotten to stay in the middle and moved a little too far to one side. An arm came around, locked around his throat and something sharp jabbed into his back, slicing through skin.
The pain in his back hadn’t completely registered when he saw the were step free of the metal bars and charge.
“I got his liver,” said the were with his arm around Chase’s neck.
Damn it, Chase thought. No one was getting his liver.
Chapter Twenty-one
“That’s it, I’m calling Burnett,” Della snapped and threw the empty soda can that she’d been using as a stress ball across the room. Socks, still a kitten in spirit, charged after it. She reached for her phone.
“I thought you were going to let me do it.” Kylie put her hand over Della’s.
“No, Chase will know I forced you. I might as well own it.” She grabbed her phone and was about to dial when a text dinged.
“It’s from Chase.” She smiled as the tightness in her chest lightened. But then she read the text.
In front of school. Need help.
“Shit!” Della bolted up.
“What is it?” Miranda asked.
“He’s at the front gate. I’m gonna go meet him. I’ll see you guys later.” She shot out the door.
A red Corvette was parked in front. She walked through the gate, knowing the alarm would record her exit, but not caring.
A man got out of the driver’s side. She recognized him as one of the men on the Vampire Council. Where was Chase?
She approached with caution. But the look of concern on his face, and the smell of blood—Chase’s blood—had her stomach knotting.
“Hello, again,” the blond vampire said. “I’m Kirk. I met you when—”
“I know who you are.” Della recalled how small the council had made her feel. Her gaze cut to the car; no one else was in it. “Where’s Chase?” She felt her eyes brighten.
