Claire tossed the blanket in the air and watched it gracefully fall back onto the bed, almost completely smooth except for one frustrating crease in the center. Damn it. There had to be a magical way to get this looking perfect.

But before she could fix it, there was a knock on the door and she ran out of the back bedroom of Dante’s apartment to the door.

He was already there and pulling it open. Detective Parker stood there and Claire had to hide her shock. She’d known Angela was coming over and she’d gotten the quick rundown of what had happened, but seeing the officer who had seemed so self-composed and capable standing there in her shorts, tank top, and an over-the-shoulder bag hit her.

Because Claire had run away from home once too, she knew why Parker was dressed so badly for the cool night. She’d been too afraid to change her clothes in her apartment.

“Come on in.” Dante stepped aside.

“Thanks.” Angela came inside just a few feet before she stopped again. Every muscle in her body was tense, and Claire was sure being in the strange apartment wasn’t helping. She tried to think of what she could say or do to make the other woman feel at home, but hosting houseguests wasn’t really her specialty.

Luckily, she was dating a man a thousand times more charming than she was. “Let me show you around.” Dante led the way farther into the apartment. Dante was a man of style, so his penthouse apartment was a thing of beauty. To afford the rent, he shared it with two other women, Lacey and Lindsey, but when they found out Angela would be coming over, Dante asked the roommates to leave for their own safety.

When Derek had texted Dante, Claire had been a bit insulted. Why would he be the first person on speed dial? Claire was the strongest one. Hell, according to everything she’d learned, she might be the most dangerous witch alive at the moment.

But then she realized why Dante was the number-one choice. Angela Parker had very little experience with witches. And between Dante and Claire, Angela had saved Dante and seen Claire kill someone. So Derek must’ve thought that Angela wouldn’t feel safe around Claire.

Which meant that not only did witches fear her, but now the cops were afraid of her too.

She tried to not be completely self-centered and focus on the fact that Angela had been attacked.

“We set you up in this room.” Dante led Angela to the room that Claire had been tidying up. “Claire and I are going to be right on the other side of this wall, so if anything followed you here, we’ll know.”

Angela shuddered and ran her hands over her arms. “Do you really think it could’ve followed me here?”

“No,” said Claire quickly, giving Derek a little chiding look for scaring her. “But we want to be better safe than sorry.”

Angela didn’t look comforted at all as she set her bag down on the bed. It was obviously a woman’s room. The walls were a soft gray and there were pink accents in the comforter and the silky curtains. Her eyes bounced around the room, neither approving nor disapproving. Claire wondered whether cops saw everything in the world different from normal people.

Though she supposed in no way, shape, or form could she be considered a normal person.

“Have you talked to Derek?” she asked suddenly.

“He texted us that you were coming,” said Claire slowly, wondering whether Angela hurt her head in the struggle.

Angela rolled her eyes, obviously not amused. “No, I mean on the phone. He seemed weird when I talked to him. And I’m very happy that you are helping me, but I kind of expected to be at his place tonight.” She glanced around the room once more. “Though I’m thinking this is a step up....”

Dante smiled at the compliment, but Claire was caught up by what Angela said. She had a point. Derek wasn’t the type to delegate possibly dangerous tasks. Not if he could avoid it or if he thought there was something more dangerous that they didn’t know about. “I’m sure everything is fine,” she lied.

“You’re probably right,” said Angela, obviously not believing a word. But neither woman knew anything for sure, so they said quick goodnights before Claire and Dante retreated to give the woman some time alone.

“What do you think?” asked Claire softly when she and Dante reached his bedroom.

Dante’s room was more masculine by far. It was all-black furniture and green accents. She figured the green could be a bit much for people, but she kind of liked it. It was very Dante. She had to fight off the sudden urge to run her fingers through his hair. Even though he was her boyfriend and she could kind of touch him whenever she wanted, she was still trying to come off as a relatively normal person. Not that it was really possible at this point....

“I think she’s freaked out,” he said.

“I believe that. I mean the ghost or whatever attacked her sounds terrifying. Have you ever heard of anything like that?”

“Yeah. In half the horror movies released in the past twenty years. Electronics flipping on and off? Objects moving around? Sounds like someone is trying to scare her.”

“It sounds like they would’ve killed her if someone hadn’t heard the gunshots.”

Dante shrugged. “That could be what they get off on. I don’t know. But if they want to get to Parker here, they’ll have to get through the two of us. Considering my bad mood right now, that’s not going to be easy.”

Claire frowned. She hadn’t realized Dante was in a bad mood, but he almost always had a happy-go-lucky attitude. “What’s wrong?”

He tilted his head and looked at her. “Not sure if you remember, but we were supposed to be having a date before we got put on babysitting duty.”

Oh yeah... date.

Dante must’ve sensed the sudden tension creep into her muscles and he let out a groan. “You’re still freaked out.”

“I have good reason to be freaked out,” she reminded him. It wasn’t as if she were afraid of the perfectly normal concerns about birth control and STDs like a human in a new relationship. No, if she made a mistake while she was with Dante, she could kill him.

“Come on.” He held out a hand to her.

The worst part was that if he were peer pressuring her to have sex, she’d be totally on board. Her virginity was a label that she was more than willing to shake off. Really, she’d killed a man recently. Shouldn’t you have sex before you kill someone? Maybe she was never meant to be normal—human, witch, or otherwise.

She met his hand and let him lead her to the bed.

He settled back against the headboard as he turned on the television. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Comedy,” she said without hesitation. Something with no killing and no sex and no magic.

She settled into his arms and let him hold her. This wasn’t bad. And this wasn’t what scared her. No matter how good the movie was, she could keep herself under control like this. It was when he touched her that things tended to get... iffy.

And it was impossible to forget that Dante was there. Partly because Claire had been so careful lately to not touch anyone. Even though Sam, Dante, and even Claudia had been good about making sure no one else knew she was a soul sucker, she knew and didn’t want to accidentally hurt anyone.

So when Dante touched her, it wasn’t just that he was utterly sexy and totally into her. It was the only contact she had, and that kind of thing could be addictive. She allowed herself to relax into him, leaning her head to the side until she settled into the crook of his shoulder. He couldn’t possibly be comfortable in this position, but she felt so warm and protected here that she didn’t say anything.

The movie he put on was raunchy, and even though it had sex, it was hardly the tempting kind. She laughed a lot in the beginning, but soon enough drowsiness started to take over. Her eyes were drifting shut as she started to melt into Dante, appreciating the relaxation that she so desperately needed.

Then Dante shook her shoulder. “Hey, hun. Movie’s over.”

She blinked a few times. It felt as though no time had passed at all, but sure enough, the credits were rolling. She rubbed at her eyes as she sat up. “Wow. I don’t remember falling asleep.”

He gave a little chuckle at that. “I don’t think that’s the kind of thing people normally remember,” he pointed out.

She was still too drowsy to think of a witty retort, but then he reached for her and pushed a few lose strands of her blonde hair behind her ear. “I think you’re cute when you sleep.”

She could feel the blush creep up her cheeks but tried to keep her cool. “You always think I’m cute.”

“You got me there.” And when he leaned forward, she didn’t even think about stopping him. Maybe she was too tired. Maybe she was just using that as an excuse. She wanted to touch Dante. She wanted to kiss him, undress him, and know him in every way a woman was supposed to know a man.

Even though Dante could be everything she thought a bad boy was, the kiss was soft and gentle and exploratory. It made her like him even more. She finally had the chance to run her fingers through his hair, and without moving from her mouth, he adjusted their position so he was crouched over her, with one hand on the back of her jean-clad thigh and the other bracing him on the bed.

As soon as their positions shifted, the kiss took on a different feel. It wasn’t so sweet and innocent anymore but was deeper and more passionate. She soaked up the sensation of having a man on top of her, the first time this had happened in years. And she’d never been with a man like Dante.

She cupped his face with her hands and pulled him in closer as she kissed him with everything in her. Her tongue tentatively brushed his and she lifted her hips.

When she felt the barest evidence of his erection, she sucked in a breath at the unexpected sensation and cursed her own naiveté. She knew how sex worked. It was just so strange to feel that and know the erection was for her.

She pulled back and opened her eyes to smile up at him coyly, but Dante’s dark-green eyes weren’t looking at her. These eyes were dark pools of black and seemed to stare into her very soul.

Claire jumped back and slammed her hands into Jackson’s chest, but all of a sudden, he was back to Dante as he fell off the bed and onto the floor.

“What the fuck?” He pushed himself up and looked at her.

She stared at him in abject horror, waiting to see whether he was going to change back into Jackson or vice versa again. When it became apparent that Dante was actually Dante, she looked around the room. “Am I sleeping? Is this a dream?”

Dante’s annoyance quickly changed to concern. “Hey, I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything. I thought—”

“It’s not you,” she assured him, even though her eyes still bounced around. She wasn’t expecting Jackson to come bouncing out of the shadows at this point, but adrenaline was coursing through her and she was trying really hard to override the fight-or-flight response right now.

Dante stayed standing, giving her some space. “What happened? Was it a ghost thing?”

Ghost... was it possible? Was Jackson haunting her from the grave? She remembered what he’d said to her as she’d sucked the life out of him. He said he’d always be with her. And considering Angela had shot him, multiple times, it would make sense that he was going after her too. “I, um....” She really didn’t want to tell Dante what was happening but didn’t see a way around it. “I saw Jackson.”

He blinked a few times, trying to digest it. “Like, in the room with us?”

“Yes.” Kind of true. She didn’t want to tell Dante that she’d imagined herself kissing him. Twice in one day now. Besides, as long as she told Dante that she was seeing Jackson, that was the important part.

It wasn’t as if she was imagining making out with Jackson for fun. Dante didn’t know about the time Jackson had kissed her, and he sure as hell didn’t know that for a moment she had been conflicted about which one of them to pursue a relationship with. But she had chosen Dante before she ever knew Jackson was evil. No reason to tell Dante anything that would make him feel worse. Not when he was the one she chose.

Dante looked around the room cautiously. “What happened? Did he say something to you? Threaten you in any way? Do you think he was corporeal?”

Her mouth fell open at the questions she had no answer to. “At this point, I’m not sure I didn’t imagine the whole thing. I saw him earlier today too, but that was a dr—nightmare and I figured it was brought on by stress. Now that Angela’s apartment is trying to kill her....”

Dante nodded. “You’re right. Two times is too many.” He walked around the room, flipping on all the lights and looking around the room, but there was no sign of anything. Though if he knew what she really saw, he’d be looking in a mirror. Both times, Jackson had morphed out of Dante.

“I think there’s only one person who can give us answers.” Claire wrapped her arms around her knees.

“Do you think it’s safe?” Dante finally seemed to calm down and sat on the bed next to Claire.

She shrugged. “I think if Claudia wanted me dead, I’d be dead a long time ago.”