“I’m not leaving you alone again.”

  “It’s not your fault,” she said, her voice very soft.

  “Are you sure about that?” he asked in disgust. “The other thing that worries me is that the pearls are gone.”

  She frowned at that. “What? How?” she asked, shifting in the bed eagerly. “Did you see who came to collect the parcel?”

  “No, we didn’t. He didn’t show, or at least not at the point in time that I last spoke to Grant. He has somebody staying and watching the parcel.”

  She winced at that. “What if it was all just a ruse to get me out of the house?”

  “I don’t know about getting you out of the house, but it certainly got me out of the house.”

  “Right,” she agreed, after a moment. “And that’s not quite the same thing, is it? With you gone, I was basically left vulnerable.”

  “Which is why I’m not leaving you again,” he repeated, hardening his tone.

  She looked at him and smiled. “You aren’t responsible. You know that, right?”

  “Somehow it still feels like I’m responsible,” he argued, staring at her. “You might let me off the hook, but that doesn’t mean I will.”

  “I never hired you as a bodyguard. I know that you have stepped up and taken on that role, but it’s not as if it was assigned to you.”

  “I don’t take assignments. I just do what I think needs to be done.”

  “Whether I like it or not?”

  “Whether you like it or not,” he declared, with a nod.

  As she went to stand up in her hospital gown, the door opened. A nurse stepped in, appearing startled to see her on her feet. “Hey.” The nurse walked over to Jewel. “This is a lovely sign.”

  Jewel smiled at her. “Thank you for looking after me,” she stated, her tone more formal than Hurricane was expecting.

  The nurse looked at her closely. “I do want the doctor to take a look at you, and then, if he clears you, I expect you’ll be released to go home.”

  “Yeah, I’m hoping that somebody can arrange for clothing,” she added, looking down at the hospital gown.

  “Right, seeing as we’ve already stripped out the Lost and Found for you once.”

  She winced at that. “I can return those clothes too. I’m sorry. I should have done that before now.”

  “Hey, it wasn’t very long ago that you were here before,” the nurse noted, shooting a look back at Hurricane.

  He winced at that. “We’re doing our best.”

  She stared at him. “No offense, but doesn’t sound like your best is good enough. She’s been attacked twice now and taken to the same place. How hard can it be to figure this out?”

  “We do have the cops on it,” he added.

  At that, Jewel looked at him. “Did you let the detective know?”

  “Of course. He’s been consulting with Grant.”

  “Great, the police and the FBI.”

  “Good,” the nurse declared in a severe tone. “We’ve had enough of this crap,” she muttered. As she quickly walked out of the room, she added, “Give me a moment, and I’ll get the doctor.”

  At that, Jewel looked over at him. “Clothing?”

  He nodded, and just then his phone buzzed. “Hopefully that will be word on your clothes,” he shared. He stepped out of the hospital room and held the door open, while a kind-looking man in a white jacket came in.

  He looked her over. “You’re in far better shape at this point than compared to last time.”

  She nodded. “Maybe because I was found earlier, and maybe he didn’t get a chance to do something to me that he wanted to. I don’t know.”

  “Again no sign of sexual assault,” he noted. “I’m not sure what this guy’s plan was, but, so far, you appear to be surviving his attacks—although I can’t say I’m terribly impressed that it’s happened a second time.”

  “Nobody is,” she agreed gently, “but I can’t really blame Hurricane.”

  “Maybe not,” the doc admitted, “but you need to be careful to ensure we don’t get a third repeat of this. You’ve had two skates over thin ice, so—”

  “I got it,” she said, adding a smile. “No guarantee that I would survive a third.”

  “Exactly,” he murmured. “Now let’s have a closer look.”

  He gave her a good once-over and nodded. “You appear as healthy as a horse now,” he stated. “I’m not even sure, at this point, if he knocked you out or gave you something, but there appear to be no ill effects, either way. No new bumps to your head, and all of those bruises that came up post-mortem—I mean, after you came back to life again—have all disappeared, but keep an eye out to see if the same bruising happens again.”

  “I will, but I’m really hoping the answer to that question is a no.”

  “You and me both,” he said cheerfully. “Strangest thing I ever saw.”

  With that, he stepped out, and, almost like musical chairs, Hurricane walked back in again, holding up a bag for her. “A change of clothes,” he announced.

  “Oh, thank heavens.” She took the bag from him and, heading into the bathroom, quickly changed. She intentionally avoided the mirror, but, as soon as she changed, she stopped, took one close look, and scowled. It’s like the veins clearly showed under her transparent skin. Her skin had gone from being alabaster white to almost translucent. She shook her head, then managed to grab a glass of water, and rinsed out her mouth, washed her face, and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to get some semblance of order. Quickly she put it into a braid and tied the ends loosely together. It would only stay for a little bit, without a hair clip or a ponytail holder, but it made her feel a lot better.

  Back out in the room, Hurricane nodded approvingly. “Also a pair of sandals are in the bag, I think,” he said, noting her bare feet.

  She looked back in the bag, pulled them out, and slipped them on. “Nice, thank you.” Then she put the empty bag with the hospital gown on the bed and said, “Let’s go.”

  “In a rush?”

  “Absolutely,” she murmured. “I want to get out of here, before something else happens.”

  He stayed silent as he walked outside, straight to his Jeep.

  She sighed. “Were there any changes at the loft?”

  “I don’t know. Believe me. I didn’t hang around long enough to check. You weren’t there and both pieces of the pearls were gone. That’s all I cared about.”

  She nodded. “You never found the jewelry, did you?” He shook his head. “Good enough. Let’s go home, but we’ll need to get some food in the meantime.”

  “You hungry?”

  “No, that’s not even the word for it. I’m absolutely ravenous,” she muttered. “I don’t remember being this hungry before, not in a very long time.”

  He looked at her sideways and suggested, “I can hit a drive-through.”

  “Only if it’s real food. Otherwise we’re going home and cooking.”

  “If we order Chinese, it would probably be about ready by the time we got there to pick it up.”

  She nodded and then clapped at her pants and looked at him. “My phone’s gone again?”

  He winced. “Yeah, it is.”

  “Great.”

  He pulled one from his pocket and handed it to her. “Good thing I keep spares.” It didn’t take her long to locate a Chinese food place, and, when she called them, she placed an order that she knew would shock Hurricane with the sheer volume of food. When she put away his phone, she sat back, and her stomach growled.

  The sound was loud enough to raise his eyebrows.

  “I said I was hungry,” she noted, half mortified.

  “Yeah, I got that,” he murmured, looking at her. “Loud and clear. Apparently very hungry.”

  He followed her instructions to the restaurant. When he pulled in and parked, she raced inside, with him on her heels. He quickly paid for the order, and they brought several bags back to the truck.

  He didn’t say anything, but, as she looked at it, she admitted, “Maybe I overdid it.”

  “That’s all right,” he said. “We can warm it up later. Nothing better than leftover Chinese food.”

  “That would work.” As she got back in the passenger seat, she asked, “Do you mind turning the heater on?”

  Surprised, he looked over at her, and, realizing she was serious, put the heater on immediately. She settled back but was getting even more chilled. When her teeth started to chatter, he swore and cranked the heat up even higher. “We’re almost home, just hold on a minute.”

  He quickly pulled around a couple more blocks, then parked in front of the building. He hopped out, came around to her side, and pulled open the door, only to find her shaking so much her teeth were literally knocking against each other.

  He shook his head and said, “Grab the bags, if you can.”

  When she scooped up the bags in her arms, he picked her up, bags and all, then slammed the door shut with his hip, and carried her up the front steps.

  “Is it locked?” she asked him, as they were now in the public hallway leading to the private lofts.

  “I didn’t have a key to lock it, so no.”

  She reached down awkwardly and opened the door, then he carried her across the threshold into the loft. There, he placed her on the couch, took the bags from her, and put them up on the kitchen counter.

  “Do you need a hot bath first?” he asked.

  “I need food,” she whispered.

  He didn’t say anything but immediately opened up all the bags, bringing out the half-dozen dishes that she’d ordered. She had followed him into the kitchen, snagging two plates, but was still shaking so badly that they clattered against each other with every movement she made.

  “Go sit down,” he ordered, taking them from her.

  She did and watched him like a hawk, as he opened up the containers and quickly scooped out food from all six of the packages, then handed the plate to her. She hardly waited before she shoveled in the food. He stopped and stared, as she shrugged and went back at it. “I’m hungry,” she muttered.

  He didn’t say anything but served himself a modest plate and sat down beside her. She didn’t worry about it until the contents of her plate were gone and her shaking had calmed down enough that she’d managed to eat, but she found herself looking at her empty plate and then over at his.

  “You want more?” he asked, looking at her. “Go get some. Or should I do that?”

  She got up slowly, unsure as to whether her legs would hold her, but, realizing the worst of it had passed, she walked over to the counter and scooped up a second serving, quite a bit smaller but still a substantial amount. “I’m not sure what’s wrong,” she whispered. “I don’t eat like this normally.”

  He didn’t say anything, just continued to watch her, as he ate his own meal. By the time she was done with the second plate, her stomach was almost distended, and she groaned. “Now I feel like an idiot.”

  “Are you uncomfortable?”

  “No, not at all. It’s just that I’m not used to consuming that amount of food. I’m sure my digestive system will go into overdrive trying to handle it.”

  “Maybe, but, if you were that hungry, I’m sure it’s prepared for it.”

  She shrugged. “I gather they didn’t feed me while I was at the hospital.”

  “They didn’t feed you, but you weren’t gone long enough to need to be fed either.”

  She nodded and curled up sideways on the couch to look at him. “You’re eating awfully slowly.”

  “I’m not,” he disagreed, with a wry look at her. “I’m eating normally.”

  “In other words, I inhaled mine. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Yeah, pretty much,” he agreed cheerfully.

  She stared down at her hands and said, “They look like they’re almost invisible now,” she whispered.

  “That is of concern to me,” he stated.

  Startled, she looked up at him. “I figured it was just the cold and the lack of food.”

  “Maybe,” he replied.

  “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “Maybe, but I think it goes along with whatever it is that you’re not telling me.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “You’ve kept something hidden all this time, and it’s burning through a lot of your energy, and you don’t really have it to spare. So if you would stop trying to hide it, it would be easier on you—and me and the rest of us.”

  She blinked at him. “We’re back to that again, huh?”

  “Back to what?”

  “That you don’t trust me.”

  “I trust what I can see, and right now what I see is your body burning through energy at a rate that is not normal but is consistent with what happens after a heavy psychic burn,” he explained. “So call it whatever you want to call it, but something is going on that either you are deliberately hiding or you really don’t know about.”

  She shook her head. “You’re expecting me to tell you something?”

  “Yes, absolutely I am,” he said. “The truth would be a hell of a place to start.”

  *

  Hurricane wasn’t kidding. The only way that she could have worked up that appetite and become that cold, that chilled, like she had so fast, was to have gone through a ton of energy. A blast and burn, so to speak, followed by a massive drop in energy. He’d done it himself a few times, and he always tried to avoid it at this stage of life because it was difficult to come back from, but she’d bounced back like a pro. And that just brought up more suspicions of the sort he’d been thinking about earlier. Something funny was going on here, and she either didn’t know or was not prepared to share it, yet he couldn’t stop that suspicion in the back of his head.

  Stefan whispered in his head, You need to broach her about it. You’ll never feel safe in her presence without trust.

  Hurricane sighed, put down his plate, sat back, and continued. “I really need to push this line of questioning.”

  She stiffened and glared at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’d feel better if I could believe that,” he replied. “The trouble is, I’m struggling with it.” At that, he looked at his empty plate and sighed. “That’s enough food for me for tonight.” He looked at her and asked, “Coffee?”

  “Oh, yes, please,” she murmured. She hopped up, then came around and looked at the food left in the kitchen. “I think I’m good for the moment.”

  He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. She’d outeaten him probably three to one. He put on coffee and turned to find her sitting on the stairs, looking at the safe. She’d gotten over there so fast and so quietly that he hadn’t even noticed. So either he was rattled or he was too tired to even have recognized what was going on, but it made him extremely nervous. He walked closer and asked, “What do you think?”

  She stared at him, but an odd look was on her face. Her features worked, as if she were trying to speak, but couldn’t quite come up with what she wanted to say, so she pointed.

  He raised his eyebrows, then walked up, opened the safe wider, so he could take look, and swore. “Damn.”

  “The pearls are back, aren’t they?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “What the hell’s going on?” she cried out.

  There it was, in her stare was almost a connection, an avidness that he hadn’t seen before. “Do you want to try them on?”

  She looked at him and then nodded in joy. “Yes, yes, I really do.” She immediately reached into the safe, pulling out the pearls. She picked up the necklace, and, before he had a chance to do anything, she had placed it around her neck.

  He swore at that.

  “What? You suggested it.”

  “No, I asked you, and you went at it so fast I didn’t really have a chance to stop you.”

  “It’s on now.” She preened, turning her head from side to side. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

  “It is beautiful,” he replied, but he wasn’t looking at the actual necklace. He was looking at her. “But you could wear anything, and it would look beautiful.” A warm flush rose up her cheeks. He was enchanted by it. “I didn’t know women still blushed.”

  “I didn’t know I could,” she replied immediately, and then smiled at him. “You do say the nicest things.”

  “Sometimes”—he nodded—“and sometimes I don’t. It all depends on the person and the situation.”

  She chuckled. “I keep confounding you, don’t I?”

  “That’s one word for it.”

  “Do you want me to take it off?” she asked immediately.

  “Yes, I do.”

  Her hands immediately went up to the back of the necklace to take it off, but then she stopped. “They don’t want to do it.”

  “I know,” he stated. “That’s all the more reason for it to happen.”

  She looked up at him and frowned. “I think you’ll have to do it.”

  He braced himself for what he knew would come, but he reached behind her to pull off the pearl necklace and got the shock of his life. He gritted his teeth, as the arcs flashed against his hands, and—better for her, worse for him—he got it off.

  She cried out, screaming and kicking, looking at him. “My God, what was that?”

  Slowly, feeling the burn going through his hands, he pulled the necklace away from her and held it up for her to see. Sparks ran through him, grounding into him.

  She screamed and scooted a few more steps up the stairs. “Oh my God, what the hell is that thing?”

  “It’s the energy of the necklace, and my guess would be that it is what has been affecting you, and that is what wants you to put it on.”

  “I had it on,” she said, her hand going right to her neck. “It felt right. It felt like it belonged with me.”

  He nodded. “I’ve asked Grant to check into your history. … I’m wondering if you’re related to one of the victims somehow and if, in some way, she’s using you to reach out.”

  “But she wants me to join them,” Jewel replied. “At least that’s what it feels like. Why would she want that?”

  “Somebody does. I’m just not sure who though.”

  With her arms wrapped around her chest, staring at the necklace with loathing, she asked, “Has it really got that power over me?” She shuddered. “Lock it up, please.”