Shadow Hunt

Shadow hopped into the back of the pickup, looking positively gleeful about getting to ride with the wind in her fur. I warned her to stay down so she didn’t draw attention, but we both knew I wasn’t going to enforce it. When I climbed into the passenger seat, I saw that Jesse had grabbed my vest, boots, and knife belt from Sunken City. “Yesssss,” I said out loud.

Jesse drove, and we started the hour ride back toward Pasadena. It was already 4:30, and the sun would set at 7:36. Before I got sucked into the Wild Hunt situation, I called Molly and left a new voice mail telling her to still go to the hospital and keep an eye on Noah and Jesse’s parents, but with a different cover story. She would come up with something. Then I called Will and Kirsten and arranged to meet at Dashiell’s house at six. It was cutting it close, but we would need at least an hour to get up to Pasadena, and Jesse wanted to stop at his house for clothes—and, more importantly, lots and lots of weapons.

On the way, I filled him in on everything I’d learned from Aldric. I debated not telling him about Aldric’s offer, but if the Luparii was after the baby, that was something Jesse needed to know. He was upset when he realized they’d pulled it out of his brain, but I told him we didn’t have time for his guilt hysterics, and that got him to smile.

Jesse lived in a tiny apartment in the Echo Lake district. It was the kind of place you usually stayed in for just a year or two while you were figuring things out, but he’d had his lease forever. He found a parking spot on a side street and turned the truck off, pausing to look at me. “Do you want to come up?” he asked.

There was an intensity to his tone that I didn’t understand right away, because I am naturally very dense.

Then I got it.

We didn’t really have time for . . . me to come up. But there was also a decent chance that one or both of us would die tonight, or that I’d be taken by force and shipped to France. So I didn’t overthink it. I just got out of the truck.

Shadow came up to the apartment too—she didn’t really give us a choice in the matter—and made her customary search for danger before she’d let me cross the threshold. Then she pointedly went into the living room, climbed on Jesse’s couch, and flopped over with her head in the direction of the front door. She made every effort to look asleep.

I wanted to laugh, but I was too nervous. Wordlessly, Jesse took my hand and led me past the tiny kitchen and into the tiny bedroom. It was messy and unpretentious, just a box spring and mattress covered by a light quilt with a design like Spanish tiles. I’d seen into this room plenty of times from the hallway, but I’d never actually stepped inside. We’d been too busy being afraid of each other for that.

Jesse closed the bedroom door and turned to me, resting his forehead on mine. “Scarlett,” he said, his face troubled. “When I was in the twisted slumber . . .”

He seemed to choke on the words. I reached up and put my hands on either side of his face. “What?”

“I saw you dead. It was . . . bad.”

Ah. I was immune to the Luparii magic, but if it was as good as everyone seemed to think, what Jesse had experienced would have felt so much worse than a dream. “I’m right here.” I took his hands and put them on my waist so he could see. “I’m fine.”

“I know, I just wanted to . . . it made me realize I . . .”

I tilted my head up so I could kiss him. This time it was tentative and light, as though I was afraid to hurt him. Maybe I was.

He was the one who broke the kiss, craning his head back to look at me without moving away. “Did you mean what you said on the phone?” he asked.

“Yes.” I lifted my chin so I could look into his eyes. “I’m in love with you.”

He grinned that thousand-watt smile that always made my insides melt. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m in love with you, too.”

“I know.” Then I took a tiny step back, and my hand fluttered to my stomach. “But we’re going to need to work out some . . . logistics.” I chewed on my lip. “I’m keeping the baby.”

His grin widened. “Good.”

“Does that . . . bother you?”

“Scarlett . . .” Slowly, he got down on his knees in front of me, lifting the hem of my shirt to uncover a few inches of my stomach. He kissed it, his warm lips making me shiver. “How many adventures have I followed you into?” he said into my skin.

“A lot,” I admitted. “Although I’d classify most of them as ‘misadventures.’”

“I wouldn’t.” He looked up at me with searching eyes. “Why do you think this would be different?” I caught my breath, unable to speak as he whispered, “I’d follow you anywhere.”

That wasn’t enough, of course—not for a baby, but it was enough for today. My fingers tangled in his hair. I wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t get up. Instead, he kissed my stomach again and unbuttoned my jeans, pulling the zipper down with exquisite slowness. I knew I should tell him to hurry, we didn’t have time—but at the moment I didn’t care. We were stealing this time together, whether anyone else liked it or not.

I sat down on the bed, and Jesse pulled off my jeans. Still kneeling, he pulled his shirt over his head, and I immediately ran my fingers over the muscles on his chest, making him shiver. He closed the distance between us and kissed me on the lips, his momentum carrying me back onto the bed.

His tongue slid into my mouth like it’d been made specifically for this purpose, and there were suddenly so many things I wanted to do that I’d never been allowed, a bucket list that applied exclusively to Jesse’s body. I wanted to run my tongue along his collarbone, and trace my nails on his back. I wanted to bite the muscle in his shoulder and slide my hand into his pants until he cried out.

So I did.

I did all those things, mostly while I was still kissing him. And then he was lifting my shirt over my head and kissing the top of my breasts, and I really needed him to have more access, so I pulled the sports bra top over my head while he made appreciative noises, his fingers tracing the muscles along my sides.

And then his mouth closed over my breast, and I was gone, gone, gone.

Chapter 41

I was late to my own war council. Embarrassing.

I sort of expected the ride from Jesse’s apartment to Dashiell’s house in Pasadena to be embarrassing too, but it just . . . wasn’t. Whenever traffic allowed, Jesse would reach over and take my hand, and I caught him smiling randomly. I might have teased him about it, but I was doing the same thing. With Shadow in the truck bed, her tongue lolling out with great happiness, this was the most at peace I’d felt in . . . I didn’t know how long.

At Dashiell’s, everyone was waiting for us. Kirsten and Will looked exhausted and impatient, and even the usually quiet Hayne seemed antsy. I had a terrible thought, and the first thing out of my mouth was, “Ophelia?”

A tiny smile flickered across Kirsten’s face. “She’s safe,” she said shortly. “Abby took her out of town a few hours ago.”

“I sent Cliff with them,” Hayne added.

Cliff was one of Hayne’s daytime guys, and he’d accompanied me on my ill-fated trip to Vegas. I’d only seen him a couple of times since then, but I had to smile at the thought of the reserved ex-military bodyguard shepherding sharp-tongued Abby and a two-year-old on a road trip.

“You’re late,” Kirsten said, looking annoyed.

“Sorry,” I said, not meaning it. “Are Dashiell and Beatrice still downstairs?”

“I moved them into Dashiell’s office,” Hayne said pointedly, “when you were late.”

I refused to take the bait. “Okay, then.” I expanded my radius to include most of the mansion, feeling the two vampires wake up a few rooms away. “They’ll be here in a minute. Where’s Owen?”

Kirsten’s face took on a certain stubborn look. “I sent him away, too.”

“What?” Dashiell stood in the open doorway, dressed in his “daytime casual” clothes: jeans and a wrinkled white dress shirt. He looked aghast. The last he’d heard, Owen had just knocked on my door. “We could have used him!”