Shea locked her apartment door behind her and leaned against it with a shaky exhale. She thought she’d be able to breath again once she was safely inside.

She’d been wrong.

Bending at the waist, she untied her boots and kicked them off, leaving them lined up neatly on the mat by the door. Her skin felt hot and tight, and she plucked at the front of her silk top before finally just pulling it up and off. Wearing only her jeans and bra, she made her way through her small apartment to the little galley kitchen and grabbed a water out of the fridge.

Jesse’s sudden appearance had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. So much so, her stomach felt like Cruthú was fluttering around inside of it. So, after about an hour of prowling the streets of Seattle, she’d given up on finding a female to feed on and had just come straight home. It was a pure stroke of luck that she hadn’t run into any of the guys on her way upstairs. One look at her flushed face and protruding fangs and they would’ve known something was up. And like the pain in the asses they were, they would’ve pestered her about it until she wanted to scream—because they were nosy, and because they worried like the brothers she’d never known she’d wanted, but was very grateful to have.

But even if they had caught her on her way in, she knew she wouldn’t have told them what was really causing her discomfort. She had no intention of telling them about Jesse showing up at the club, or that she had spoken to him. For reasons even Shea herself couldn’t fully comprehend, she felt protective of the dark warlock. She just hoped this act of kindness didn’t come back to bite her in the ass anytime soon.

She’d just changed into a pair of loose pajama pants and a white cotton tank when there was a knock on the door. Pausing with one hand in her sock drawer, Shea closed her eyes. Her hands began to shake. Quietly closing the drawer, she placed them over her stomach. Butterflies were slamming around in there again, and she was glad she hadn’t fed.

It was him. She didn’t know how she knew it, she just did.

His scent came to her as soon as she left her bedroom; woodsy and masculine with a touch of something dark and wicked. It called to her like a warrior’s song. His blood would taste sinful and forbidden, she knew, and her fangs shot down into her mouth even as her womb clenched with longing of a completely different kind. Closing her eyes, she battled the urge to fling open the door just so she could lay her eyes on his face.

“Shea, I know you’re there.” His low voice came through the heavy wood. “Open the door.” It wasn’t a request.

She should definitely not open the door. As a matter of fact, she should leave him out there for the others to find. But before the thought had even completely formed, she found her hand on the lock, then on the latch, and she swung the door open wide.

He was even more alluring than just a few hours ago. Impossible, but true. Cruthú sat quietly on his shoulder, her talons making deep impressions in the soft cashmere of his dark, blood-red sweater, yet he didn’t appear to be in any pain. His eyes immediately dropped to her mouth, then down to her nipples, easily seen protruding beneath the thin material of her tank top. They hardened even more beneath the weight of his stare, and his lips parted on a harsh exhale.

She crossed her arms to cover herself, and to keep herself from yanking off her shirt and baring her breasts to his hungry gaze. “Please go away,” she whispered. Though if she were to be honest with herself, she didn’t really mean it. She’d done nothing but think of him since he’d let her go.

He ignored her, and continued his perusal all the way down to her bare toes, peeking out from the hem of her pants, and then slowly back up to her face. “I can’t,” he said simply. “Let me in, Shea.”

His golden eyes locked with hers, bright and intense, and after a slight hesitation she stepped back out of the way so he could enter. He came inside, but kept his distance, much to her relief, and continued past her into her small apartment. Shea closed and locked the door behind him, taking a few moments to gather her composure before joining him in the other room. It didn’t do much good.

She found him in the kitchen, rummaging through her fridge. He helped himself to a bottle of water and took it to the kitchen island, seating himself on a stool. Cruthú hopped down and went to investigate the pages of a magazine lying near the sink.

He looked like he belonged there.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she told him. “If the others caught you—”

“They won’t.”

“Your scent is everywhere. They will know you were here. Luukas will recognize it.”

He gave a small shrug, completely unconcerned. “Possibly.”

“What am I supposed to tell him?”

“Whatever you’d like.”

Why was he making this so hard for her? Shea closed her eyes. “Jesse, please. Just go.” I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.

He was silent for a long time, then suddenly his mouth quirked up in a semblance of a smile. “Worried about me, Shea?”

She shook her head. Yes. “No. I’m worried about me when they find out I allowed you into my apartment.” The lie was bitter on her tongue. She was terrified for him. Luukas was healing from his ordeal well with Keira’s help, though lately he seemed to be backsliding. But he would rip Jesse apart if he found out he was here, and he had five witches and four other vampires to help him.

The fact that she didn’t include herself in that group didn’t escape her, but it wasn’t something she was willing to examine too closely at the moment.

Tipping the bottle up to his mouth, Jesse never took his eyes from hers as he drank, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down with each big swallow. When he had quenched his thirst, he set it on the counter and leaned back in his stool. “I came to invite you on an adventure.”

She crossed her arms over her chest again when his golden stare fell and lingered. Shea didn’t want to feed into the idea of going anywhere with him, but to distract him—and herself—from the way he stared at her breasts, she asked, “An adventure?”

“Yes.”

“Why in the world would you think that I would want to go anywhere with you?” It was a reasonable question. But the answer, when it came, completely floored her.

“I think you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Shall I spell it out, then?”

“Please.”

“Fine.” He leaned forward in his chair, pinning her to the spot with the heat glowing from his eyes. And though he never raised his voice, each word cut into her like a knife, whittling away her defenses until there was nothing left but a wall as thin as paper between them. “Because I sensed you in that altar room before I even knew you were there. Because ever since I first laid eyes on you, I’ve needed you near me. Because I long to touch your skin and hear your voice—all the time. Because I crave the feel of your hands on me with everything inside me. Because I nearly come when I imagine you feeding from me—and I imagine that quite often.” He paused. “Because I’ve never felt such a loss as the day you walked away from me.”

The paper ripped, leaving a jagged hole. “Stop.” She threw up her hands, halting any more words he’d been about to say.

“Why?”

“Because you’re talking crazy.” But the thing was, he wasn’t. Everything he said…she had felt those things, too.

“Is it crazy, Shea?”

His chest rose and fell rapidly beneath his sweater, the show of emotion unusual for him. Shea had never heard so much as a flutter of his pulse to give away what he was feeling before. But she heard it now. Loud and clear.

“I’ve missed you,” he told her simply.

The world tilted around her again. The way he looked at her, the longing in his voice, the scent of his desire for her, his words…but she couldn’t be with him. “Jesse, no—”

“Come with me, Shea. Be with me. Even if just for a little while.”

Despite the slight thread of fear that still tangled its way around her gut, the urge to touch him was so strong she took a step forward and started to reach across the island before she caught herself. Curling her hands into fists at her sides, she shook her head. “I can’t. We can’t.”

“Why not?”

She laughed, the sound ugly and raw in her own ears. “Why not?” She practically spat the words at him. “Because you kept me a prisoner for weeks. Because you tried to kill Luukas! Right after you drove him so completely mad, he believed he had killed Keira—his mate! And you did it with nothing but the power of your sick mind. Because you helped that she-bitch unleash the hounds from hell, and you don’t seem to have the slightest remorse about any of it!”

He was irritatingly calm after her outburst. “You know nothing of my remorse, or lack thereof. I have my own reasons for everything I do, Shea.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter. “Oh, yeah? What would those reasons be? What possible excuse could you have for any of those things?”

His eyes darkened, narrowed in challenge. “Yes, I kept you prisoner in my room. To protect you. It was the only way I could be assured that Leeha wouldn’t get her hands on you. The spell that kept you a prisoner in my room kept her out. Although she couldn’t possess you without me, she was spiteful and temperamental, and not ever to be trusted. And yes, I fought with Luukas. Fought with him. I was ordered to kill him, and his witch. Did you know that? But I didn’t.” Jesse took another drink from his water. Staring at the counter in front of him, he said quietly, “I only had to make it look good, before I allowed them to escape.” He sighed heavily, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, and finished off the bottle.

Shea continued to give him the same stony stare, but she wasn’t feeling quite so self-righteous anymore. “Okay, fine. But what about the rest of it? That doesn’t excuse the fact that you played a very large part in Leeha’s insane plan to populate the earth with actual demons from hell.”

“I have my reasons for that, also.”

She waited, honestly curious as to what possible reason he could have for doing such a horrendous thing.

Getting up from the counter, he began to pace. “It’s a long story. Too long to get into right now.”

“I have the time.” She wasn’t very successful at hiding the snide tone of her voice, but she wasn’t about to let him get out of this one without hearing his reasoning behind it.

Jesse suddenly veered from his path and came to stand before her, so close she could feel the heat from his body. His heart pounded in her ears. “Come with me, and I will tell you all of it.”

A deal. He was offering her a deal. The scent of his skin—and his blood—engulfed her, making her muscles tense, her fangs ache, and her throat burn. More than that, she could feel the power of his will and the answer he wanted to hear from her. His golden gaze bore into hers. Shea did everything she could to keep him out of her mind, to no avail. Her head began to pound from fighting him. Sliding out from between him and the counter, she paced over to the floor-to-ceiling window that made up her outer living room wall, breaking the connection. Turning her back to the view, she shook her head. “No, Jesse. I can’t.”

He took a deep breath, running a hand through his dark hair much like Nikulas did when he was feeling anxious. Then he stilled. His eyes narrowed in challenge. “Not even if it meant you would be helping me hunt down the demon’s blood before they could find it themselves?”

Shea eyed him with suspicion. “What did you just say?”

He sauntered toward her, all lean muscle and masculine confidence beneath his expensive clothes. Stopping just out of reach, he said, “We can stop the demons, Shea. You and me. We could bring the blood back to Luukas and let him do with it what he will.”

She searched his features, wanting to trust what he was saying, but knowing she’d be an absolute idiot to do so. “Why would you do that? I thought you wanted them here. Why would you help me after everything you’ve done to achieve that?”

“Because more than anything else, I want to be with you.”

Shea froze, his frank admission throwing her off again. He was telling the truth this time, she had no doubt. For a brief moment, the butterflies returned as she stared up at his handsome face, and she dared to hope.

But then reality came crashing down upon her, and she gave him a sad smile. Her heart deflated in her chest; aching for a future with this dangerous male she hadn’t admitted to herself that she wanted, until this very moment when she realized she could never, ever, have it. “That’s impossible, Jesse. We can’t be together.”

“We can, Shea. Leeha is dead. And I can”—he rolled his eyes on a loud, suffering sigh—“come to a mutual understanding with Luukas. We’ll work it all out.”

“No.” She shook her head. “We can’t.”

He raised a hand to touch her face. “Shea—”

She stepped back. “No! Don’t touch me. You can’t touch me, Jesse.”