Jesse watched Shea until she was out of sight. The female was a strange combination of street thug and elegance, and he knew she would be just at home in a brawl as in a ballroom.

It utterly intrigued him.

But he’d been a fool to come here and face her, hoping for…what? That she would tell him she missed him, too? Run into his arms and allow him to hold her as he so longed to do? Her aversion to touching him hadn’t changed.

He narrowed his eyes as he watched her go out of her way to avoid walking into a group of males heading toward the club just before she’d turned the corner.

Jesse glanced up at Cruthú, reassuring himself that she knew what was asked of her, and turned to walk in the opposite direction. As he strolled past aged apartment buildings, small shops, and couples heading out for the night, his mind spun with all he had learned that night. Shea had jerked away every time someone had accidentally brushed against her as she’d made her way through the throng of writhing bodies on the dance floor. Her sounds of pain had not gone unnoticed by him, though no one else would have heard, but he’d assumed it was the blood lust he’d sensed that made her grumpy. She was thirsty, which he would assume was the reason she was here.

But, perhaps he was wrong. Was it possible her aversion to being touched wasn’t caused only by her repulsion to him? He’d witnessed her fear when she’d been his guest up north, and his gut had told him there was more going on with her than met the eye. And it appeared his instincts had been right. She’d even told him straight out he could not touch her. But it appeared she wasn’t afraid of him, merely of his touch. And anyone else’s, it seemed.

A vampire who required blood to survive, yet was repulsed by touch. And the mystery thickened….

Then something else occurred to him, and his heart nearly dropped right out of his chest. If he would never be able to touch her, he would never feel if her skin was as soft as it looked, or feel the touch of her small hands exploring him in return.

It was a sobering vision of the future. One that he would have to do something about. Immediately.

He didn’t follow her. There was no need. He knew exactly where she lived, and the raven would keep an eye on her. His friend would let him know if Shea went off course or got herself into any trouble she couldn’t handle on her own.

After their phone call a few days before, when she had called to ask him about the box, Jesse had done little but pace the confines of his room, waiting for the phone to ring again so he could hear her voice on the other end and know that she was safe. Their short time away from each other had been torture for him. He found he could barely eat. And at night, when he would lie in the bed she had slept in, the scent of her would surround him until he could think of little else but burying himself inside her. And when he would finally fall asleep, her whiskey voice would whisper to him in his dreams.

Unable to sit and do nothing any longer, Jesse had gathered a few things and come to Seattle. It was time to go on a little trip, and he thought perhaps he could convince the vampire, convince Shea, to come with him.

Cruthú, his only friend, had eagerly voiced her opinion about the trip from her perch near his bed as she’d watched him pack, and had made herself at home in his truck as soon as he’d opened the door. She’d ridden on the passenger seat the entire way, only getting out to stretch her wings when he’d stopped for gas. Jesse was happy she’d decided to come with him. He didn’t like leaving her.

Or perhaps it was only that if the bird ever left him, he would be utterly alone.

As he strolled down the rain-slickened street, he breathed in the salty sea air and thought about what Shea had just told him. He needed to find out where the demons had taken the box, and whether they were still in the area. Shea did not seem inclined to share anything more than what she had already told him, and if he tried to approach Luukas or any of the other vampires, he doubted they would give him the chance to defend himself before they went for his head, let alone the time to speak to them. Of course, there was no way he could justify what he had done to the Master Vampire, or his part in releasing the demons from their place in hell. And he wouldn’t bother to try. He had his reasons for doing what he did.

It was true, what he had told Shea about sending them back. He, alone, would not be able to do it. He needed a spell to do that. A spell that was lost around the same time his father had shown up again. But the demons didn’t know that, and he planned on using that threat to get them to do what he wanted them to do—the reason he’d helped Leeha bring them back.