He bent and kissed my forehead, creating a spot of warmth that spread down to my stomach. “Okay.”
Chapter 22
It was only a little after nine, but by the time Jesse came out of the shower, Scarlett was fast asleep at the edge of the bed. She hadn’t moved.
The hotel phone rang, and Jesse hurried around the bed to answer it, although he doubted there was much that would wake Scarlett just then. It was Molly, as he’d expected. He gave her the room number, and a few minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door.
“Nice robe,” she said as soon as he opened the door. She wore jeans and a tight tank top, her blonde curls bouncing against the large designer backpack on her shoulders. She moved past Jesse into the room before he could respond. “How is she?”
“Sleeping. Don’t you have to ask permission to enter?” he said, slightly annoyed. Jesse turned and followed her toward the sleeping Scarlett.
“Har har. Not for a one-night stay. If you lived here for months and made it your home, maybe.”
Molly’s appearance changed subtly as she hit Scarlett’s radius, but she was used to it and took it in stride. “Damn, she looks like shit. Aren’t you feeding her?”
“Shh! You’re going to wake her up.”
“Nah. She sleeps like the dead. And I would know.” Molly gave him a wide grin and a little see what I did there look, and took off the backpack. “Clothes for both of you. I guessed on your size.”
“Thank you,” he said, accepting the bag.
“Her new Batphone is in there, too. I texted the number to Abby so she can do her phone magic on it.”
“Did you bring Scarlett’s knife belt?”
Molly frowned. “Sorry, no. I was just told the clothes and the phone.”
Jesse nodded. They’d figure it out in the morning. “What about you?” he said. “You know the cottage isn’t safe right now . . .”
“It’s okay. Dashiell has a safe house with a basement in Arcadia. I’ll still be close if Scar needs me.”
“You’ve changed,” Jesse blurted, surprising himself. Molly raised her eyebrows, and he shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I mean, a few years ago, when Scarlett got herself in deep shit, you left town for a few days.”
“That was before,” Molly said simply. She was still looking at Scarlett, fierce love written all over her face. “She’s my sister now.”
Then she turned her gaze to Jesse. “Besides, I’m not the only one. Three years ago you would have tried to convince her to take this mess to the police.”
Jesse expected the words to sting, but he realized she was right and gave a little shrug. “Maybe.”
Molly was watching him carefully. “You’re not going to ditch her again, are you?”
Jesse started. “I didn’t—no. I’m not going to ditch her. I would never.”
He regretted the too-honest words as soon as they left his mouth, but Molly just started shaking her head. “You two,” she grumbled.
“What?”
Molly rolled her eyes and pointed both hands at Scarlett, then at him. “You’re in love with her. She’s in love with you. But you dance around each other like you’re in orbit, because you’re both too goddamned scared to do anything.”
“Shh!” Scandalized, he looked at Scarlett, who hadn’t moved. Jesse grabbed Molly’s shoulder and ushered her into the hallway, snagging his room key on the way. The hall was empty, but Jesse still cinched his robe a little tighter, which made Molly smirk. He pulled the door shut behind them.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told her. “There’s that guy, Jameson—”
“Jameson is dead, and she was never in love with him,” Molly interrupted. “She was in love with the idea of not being alone. But she never was alone. She’s just an idiot. And so are you.”
Jesse threw up his hands, exasperated. It probably didn’t look very dignified, considering the hotel robe. “What do you care?”
“Human lives are short, dumbass,” Molly said. She stabbed a finger toward the hotel door. “She almost died twice today. And knowing you, when she does die, you’ll be right there dying too. Do you really want that to happen without finding out if you guys would have worked?”
Jesse just stared at her for a moment. He felt like he’d been ambushed into this conversation, and now he was rapidly losing control of his own position in it. “It wouldn’t work,” he said weakly. “Too much has happened. The timing—”
“The timing wasn’t right before,” she agreed. “But get your head out of your ass and look around. She’s right here, literally in front of you, and you’re in love with her.” She crossed her arms over her chest, as though resting her case. Jesse wondered how long she’d been waiting to make this speech.
“Molly,” he said wearily, “I love you, I do. You’re my favorite vampire ever. But I can’t talk about this with you right now.”
“Fine,” she huffed, raising her hands in an I give up gesture. “At least she wasn’t pregnant,” she muttered. “That would have really fucked things up.”
Jesse froze. Scarlett had said not to mention the baby in front of Molly, but he hadn’t realized that she’d actually convinced Molly that it was a false alarm.
Molly took his silence for shock. “Sorry,” she said, looking actually contrite. “I probably wasn’t supposed to tell you, but she had this pregnancy scare. It’s all good, though.” She shook her head. “Can you imagine? The entire Old World would be after that kid, and Scarlett thinks she’s barely keeping her head above water now.”
“She’s stronger than she thinks she is,” Jesse found himself saying.
“Well, duh,” Molly scoffed. “That’s not the point.”
The elevator bell dinged, and a couple made their way down the hall toward them, giggling. They went quiet as they passed, giving curious looks to Jesse in his robe. He turned back to the hotel room door. “Good night, Molly.”
“Tell Scarlett I’ll call her at sunset,” she said, turning to go.
“Molls?”
She paused.
“Thanks for the delivery. You’re a good friend.”
Molly just cocked an eyebrow. “So are you,” she said, “but we both know that’s not going to be enough for either of you. Not forever.”
Jesse took the backpack into the bathroom and unzipped it. Molly had packed him brand-new clothes, still bearing tags from Nordstrom. She’d chosen dark pink boxers printed with little flamingos, just to be a jerk, but Jesse wasn’t about to complain. He was lucky she hadn’t packed him a thong.
He set the alarm clock and his cell phone alarm before climbing into the empty side of the massive bed, careful not to disturb Scarlett. Then he lay staring at the ceiling, running through it all in his head: Shadow being taken, the confrontation with Dashiell, all that fruitless running around searching for the bargest, and then, of course, the explosion at the Schmidt crime scene. Dashiell and his people would be busy cleaning up that mess tonight, but when they met in the morning, they would need a new game plan. Jesse had no idea what to do next. They’d failed to find Shadow, and they’d learned very little at the crime scene, probably because it had really been a trap. A damned good trap.
The Luparii kept getting ahead of them.
Jesse rolled onto his side, looking at Scarlett’s sleeping form. He’d left the bathroom light on, telling himself it was for her, but part of him knew the truth: now that things were finally quieting down, the fears he’d been fighting all day were seeping to the front of his mind. The memory of Sabine rummaging through his mind was so strong; it felt like greasy fingerprints had been left behind. Jesse knew that was ridiculous—whatever she’d done to him had been broken the second Scarlett got close—but he was pathetically grateful that Scarlett had wanted to share the bed. Partly this was so he could keep reassuring himself that she was alive, but there was also no way the Luparii could put him back in the twisted slumber while he was this close to her.