Whatever threat she might be, he could handle it. She couldn't kill him or hurt him. But she could drive him crazy.
"Rule number two," he said brusquely and returned to his coffee on the porch. It was eight. Time for his dinner to be sent packing.
As soon as he was three feet from her, he lost all ability to track her. Xander sat on the porch. He drank his mug of coffee and waited. The blonde came down the stretch of beach, wearing even less than usual. She ran in a bikini-style workout outfit. She stopped, stretched and bent over, her bikini top straining to contain her large breasts.
The daily routine of coffee and the blonde eased his tension. A few moments later, he heard the sounds of groggy protest as Jessi roused his dinner and led her out of the apartment.
Xander enjoyed the show. When Jessi tripped his senses, he tensed so quickly, he nearly leapt out of his seat. She smelled like pineapple and brown sugar. Her small hand reached for his coffee pot.
He snatched it. "Don't touch my coffee."
She gasped and yanked away, but not before he saw the bruises on her upper arm. Xander's reflexes were faster than hers. He grabbed her wrist.
"Those are fingers," he said, observing the length and shape of the marks. "New bruises."
Jessi pulled away again. She disappeared from his senses. Silently, he began to think he wasn't going to tolerate the ghost in his house long enough for him to figure out what was going on. Not knowing where she was frustrated him.
"Jessi. Coffee."
"You just said not to touch it!" she replied from the direction of the kitchen.
"I changed my mind."
"You can get your own."
He smiled, not expecting the saucy reply. His mind went to the Guardians, who had at one time GPS-tagged him. They had the technology to track someone like Jessi. He'd pay Gerry's station another visit later today.
"I can't take it anymore," Jessi said a few minutes later.
"What?" he asked.
"I'll be back in five."
He twisted, not expecting her to leave. Her blonde curls bounced as she trotted down the stairs. He heard the door close. He turned to face the stairwell, at the top of which Cat sat, also waiting.
Her five minutes took thirty. Xander was pissed by the time she returned, aware he'd never be able to track her down if she didn't come back of her own free will. The idea he'd never solve this mystery infuriated him, but not as much as the idea she was able to sneak up on him at will.