Eternal by C. C. Hunter

lost.
    Another few beats of silence filled the haunted place. Her phone rang, the noise seeming to bounce against tombstone after tombstone. She looked at it, and saw Burnett’s number.
    â€œDid Burnett know you were coming here?”
    â€œHe forbid me to come here,” he said matter-of-factly. “But he seems pretty smart, so he probably knew I’d come anyway.”
    â€œYou seem to have a thing about breaking rules.”
    â€œI don’t set out to break them. I just make my own.”
    She pretty much did the same, so she sure as hell couldn’t judge him for it. She looked back at the phone and made a decision. Changing her phone to vibrate, she slipped it back into her pocket.
    Chase’s voice, deep and soulful, sounded again. “Do you want to go see the files?”
    She’d told Burnett where she was going, and he would probably be pissed at her, both for not answering his call and for deviating from the plan. Emotions tied to the vision—desperation, hunger, fear—walked across her heart, leaving heavy footprints. Burnett would just have to be pissed.
    â€œI’m ready when you are.” But she looked back at Chan’s grave one more time.
    *   *   *
    Chase took off, and much to his credit, he flew amongst the trees. They’d had to land twice to jog over urban areas where the early morning traffic moved and they could have been spotted. Della followed close behind him, vaguely recalling being unable to keep up with him earlier. Not that he was flying at full speed; he seemed to abide by Burnett’s rules of not showing his true powers. But before, even at this speed, longer than ten minutes would have been pushing her stamina.
    His route was a little different from Burnett’s, but she recognized the terrain below. They were heading back toward Fallen, Texas … toward Shadow Falls. A couple of miles from camp, he followed a curvy dirt road and went down into a semi-clearing in the woods.
    Her feet hit the ground with only a slight jolt. She looked behind her at a cabin. Not like the cabins at Shadow Falls, but like a fancy-schmancy cabin rented out to rich people to do yoga retreats or to get in touch with their inner spirit.
    Whoever designed it did a good job. The logs formed an A-frame residence, constructed in such a way that it grew up and out of the natural landscape. Attached to the building was a large wraparound porch complete with wicker gliders and rockers. Only a few feet from the front porch seating were five bird feeders spaced out amongst the trees. The front part of the cabin held more glass than wood, so even those inside wouldn’t feel closed up.
    Chase walked to the front porch. She followed. As she made the steps, she spotted a car parked to the side of the house. A fancy, bright blue convertible. She was far from a car expert, but it looked fast—and expensive.
    Was someone else here? She took in a big breath and didn’t pick up anyone’s scent. Except … a dog.
    As she passed one of the wicker chairs, she noted a pair of binoculars on top of one cushion. She glanced back at the bird feeders and recalled Miranda’s claims that birding was good for a person’s soul and aura. Refocusing on Chase with disbelief, she asked, “You’re a birder?”
    â€œNo,” he denied it, a little too fast. She glanced inside through the large glass windows to the lodge-style decorations. Big leather furniture, wood floors, and colorful rugs.
    â€œWho lives here?” she asked.
    â€œI do,” he said. “Well, me and Baxter.”
    â€œBaxter?” she asked.
    He shifted a little and opened the door. “Meet Baxter.”
    A big black Lab with a gray muzzle came barreling out. Even though he ran right toward Chase, Della took a step back.
    She wasn’t afraid of dogs, just cautious.
    Chase gave the dog a good scratch behind his ear and the animal’s entire