Dead Spots - Page 86/87

“Neither am I.”

“Listen,” Kirsten said, “there’s a meeting that I need to get to, unfortunately, but I wanted to stop by to tell you something.”

“Oh?” I said, munching.

“The tracking spell? The one I used to find you in that basement? Eli didn’t really have one of your T-shirts.”

I stilled, my mouth full of cookie. I’d completely forgotten. Had I left something more embarrassing at Eli’s? A bra? Panties? Wouldn’t I remember not having panties? “What did you use?”

She looked uncomfortable. “This is awkward...I still thought you should know. We couldn’t find anything and were in such a hurry...So I used Eli. Himself.”

“For a tracking spell? I thought you needed a belonging.”

“I do,” she said quietly, then looked at me as if I were missing something obvious.

“Wait...I’m sorry, are you saying that Eli belongs to me?”

“Sort of.” Her fingers twined in the air as she struggled for an explanation. “It’s more like...his heart does. He considers himself yours, and so in the eyes of the spell, so to speak, he is.” She winced. “Was I right to tell you?”

“Yeah, no...I mean, yes, it’s good to know. Thank you,” I managed.

She nodded and squeezed my hand, rising to leave.

Eli belonged to me?

I had a few other visitors in the hospital. Caroline brought me a huge stack of trashy magazines and romance novels. Will came by with an apologetic smile and a beaten-up checkers board. We didn’t talk about how close I’d come to dying, but he made a point to tell me that I was welcome in his bar anytime I wanted, null or not. He ruffled my hair when he left, and I knew things were okay between us.

Since she couldn’t come out during visiting hours—and apparently didn’t want to sneak in, like Dashiell—Molly called to check on me every night. Beatrice and I had a long phone conversation, too, during which she thanked me profusely and I managed to cajole her into sharing some stories about famous people she’d known. She didn’t mention the story that Dashiell had told me, so I didn’t, either. Dashiell stopped by one last time to tell me that they had finally figured out how Jared Hess had gotten the three vampires into the clearing. Hess had approached Joanna and Demetri through his silver business contacts and gotten the couple interested in buying some silver chains for use against the werewolves. They had arranged for him to meet with Abraham, the money guy, to talk about the specifics of the deal. Dashiell still didn’t know about how they all got to the park that night, but it looked like we might never find out. That was fine with me.

During the day, Eli and I played cards and watched TV in between my naps. At night, Jesse would arrive, kiss my head, and collapse in the armchair. The two of them were never together very long, and there was a wariness between them that I found a little amusing. But they were always polite and cordial, at least in front of me.

Jesse was pissed that Dashiell had pressed his mind, and was determined not to miss anything else. He scooted the armchair to within four inches of the bed and woke up every time the nurses came to check on me, though he wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone but me. He seemed exhausted all the time, and on my last night in the hospital, I finally asked him how things were at work.

“Um, okay,” he said cautiously. “I got a lot of credit for the Hess thing, and since none of the La Brea Park victims had families to put up a big fuss, we were able to close the whole case pretty quickly. It ended well, public relations–wise. And”—he smiled shyly and pulled a new-looking leather wallet out of his pocket, flipping it open—“I got promoted.”

I looked at the shiny new detective badge. “Oh, Jesse, that’s awesome.”

“Thanks. Not how I wanted to get it, but...”

“But you still deserve it.”

We were quiet for a moment, and I watched him fidgeting.

“There’s something you’re still not telling me, isn’t there?”

He sighed, leaning back in the chair. “My boss has been looking at me funny,” he admitted. “She wasn’t all that impressed with my performance during the investigation, and then I get this miraculous tip and solve the whole thing...I think she’s not even sure what she suspects me of doing, but she’s definitely suspicious. I’ve been busting my ass to appear competent so she’ll relax.”

“Is it working?”

“I don’t know.”

He was quiet after that, and we played falling-asleep chicken for a minute. Then he leaned forward and looked at me very seriously. My hands were folded on my stomach, and for a moment, he reached over and pressed his fingers against mine. “Scarlett, about that day at the bait shop, when we were in the parking lot—”

I shook my head, withdrawing my fingers gently. “Jesse, I can’t. I just can’t even think about...um...relationship stuff right now.” Especially since I apparently owned another man.

“I understand, and I’m not pushing you,” he said quietly. “But we almost kissed, Scarlett. And I wanted to let you know that if you ever wanted to almost kiss again, or even actually kiss...Well, I wanted to throw my hat in the ring.”

I blinked, surprised. “I thought after you found out what I did...”

He gave a little nod, conceding a point I hadn’t been able to make. “I still have...strong feelings about your job. But I almost lost you, and that definitely made an impression.”