Eternal

The ambience reminded Della of a Buddhist temple she’d visited in China when she was twelve. Without explanation, she suddenly knew the death angels hadn’t hit her on the head.

“So who was it?” She muttered the question aloud, not the least bit paranoid to be voicing her question to the empty woods.

Just because she couldn’t see them didn’t mean they weren’t there.

She wasn’t alone.

She sensed it. For the first time since she’d woken up from that coma after being Reborn, she felt … less alone. Complete.

“Who was what?” The voice blended with the rush of the falls.

Her heart leapt and her gaze shot to a spot in the curtain of water that blurred as a figure emerged.

Recognition hit and Della’s sense of peacefulness shattered.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Probably the same thing you are.” Chase’s gaze whispered over her. “I kept hearing it last night.”

“You followed me,” she accused.

He smirked. “Now you’re not even being logical. I was here first. If anyone was followed, you followed me.”

“I didn’t.” Ambivalence rumbled around inside her, and had her clenching her fist. Should she hightail it out of here and continue with her vow not to speak to him until he told her the truth about who had sent him? Or should she cross over the water and go vamp on his butt to get the truth out of him?

She knew which one she wanted to do. Oddly, kicking ass—in a place where peace flavored the air—felt wrong. Decision made, she swerved around and started walking. Hopefully he’d follow her to a less than holy place and she could kick his butt then.

“Whoa! Stop!” he called.

She ignored him. Ignored the sound of the falls. She kept walking, her focus on the ground, the way the wet earth squished around the edges of her boots. Gaze still lowered, suddenly, another pair of wet leather boots appeared in her line of vision.

She stopped, but didn’t look up. Didn’t have to. She knew they were Chase’s boots. Her heart did another tumble. His speed still awed her.

Am I that fast now?

She hadn’t really had a chance to test her limits. Not with Burnett micromanaging her powers. Not with all her pressing issues.

But those issues didn’t need her immediate attention, so she nudged those thoughts aside to deal with the problem at hand—or rather, the problem at her feet. Chase. Lifting her gaze, the visual details—Chase details—hit her at once. She stared, soaking them all in like a hungry sponge.

Details like how his wet, black hair clung to his brow. Like how his white T-shirt appeared shrink-wrapped to his upper body, showcasing every dip and curve of his muscular form. How he appeared buffer, or maybe she’d just forgotten how male-model perfect he was. She hated perfect!

“Hey.” His one soft word seemed to float through the air as he inched closer. His nearness made her skin feel extra sensitive. Maybe she didn’t hate perfect so much. Had he always had this effect on her, or was this just post-bonding crap?

She growled, annoyed at her own weakness. But for the life of her, she couldn’t seem to move back. Look but don’t touch, she gave herself one rule.

He grinned as if he could read her mind.

She growled louder.

“You are a sight for sore eyes.” He reached out as if to pull her against him. She found the strength and lurched back, leaving skid marks in the wet grass.

The look-but-don’t-touch rule would stand firm.

He stepped toward her. His scent, part musk, part mint, invaded her air. He lifted his hand.

She sucked cold oxygen between her teeth before speaking. “Your eyes aren’t the only thing that’s going to be sore if you touch me!”

He held up both of his hands, a sign of submissiveness, but his sexy smile signaled trouble. She would not, could not, give in to these crazy feelings. How could she when part of her heart belonged to someone else?

“Fine, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” He looked over her shoulder at the falls and then back at her. “But can’t you see it’s fate?”

A spray of sun shot through the trees and cast swirly shadows over his face. That’s when she noticed the purple bruise under his eye. Considering vampires didn’t bruise easily, that had to have been a hell of a lick.

“What’s fate?” she asked, trying not to care that he’d been hit. Hurt. That he could have been killed.

Bonded.

“This,” he said, moving his hands between them.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Us.”

“Us what?”

“Us. Here.”

She glared at him. “Did you forget how to use complete sentences?” she smarted off.

He half chuckled. “Come on. Doesn’t it seem strange that we were both lured here?” He shifted slightly and the precious gold light touched his face. His hair, wet from his trip through the falls, appeared almost black, and his eyes, a light golden green, almost glowed with the sun on them. But noting the bruise again, she felt a sympathy pain under her left eye.

She had to remember not to let herself get lost in those eyes—in emotions she couldn’t explain.

“I wasn’t lured.” Her heart danced around the mistruth as the sound of the cascading water hummed in the background. “I came here for a reason.” That much was true. She stiffened her shoulders.

“What reason?” he asked.