Authors: Kate Perry
Jerry whistled. "I don't think I've ever felt an earthquake last that long."
"Me either." Milo shook his head. "The big one's coming."
They clanked bottles to that. Then Jerry said, "But my stool didn't shake. Kinda strange."
M
y relief at Wu's disappearance was short-lived. All evening he kept popping up when I least expected. I dropped more beer bottles than I had since I first started working at the bar. The harder I tried to pull it together, the more out of control I spun.
And if the haunting wasn't enough, the scroll obsessed me, as well. I felt compelled to check on it every few minutes to make sure it was still safe and hidden away. Not that I could—it was an especially busy evening. As I poured a shot of tequila, I had the fleeting thought that this was what the rest of my life would be like.
Depressing, to say the least.
By the time the other bartender, Vivian, arrived, I was frazzled. Not a good thing, because dealing with Vivian was trying at best.
In my defense, I'd tried to befriend her, but she'd never been open to it. I didn't know why she disliked me from the moment she set eyes on me. All I knew was that she took pleasure in making my life hell but was a total angel whenever a man was around.
She sauntered in half an hour late—typical for her— dragging Jesse behind her, clinging to him like a leech. Flipping her fake long blond hair behind her shoulder, she rubbed her boobs on his arm and shot me a mean grin.
My eyes narrowed. Jesse and I were only friends now, but that didn't mean I wanted to see my archenemy hanging on him.
The trembling began again, a churning deep in the ground that I instinctively knew started with me and resonated down into the earth—not the other way around. Fear shot through me. Closing my eyes to calm myself, I fought back the welling energy with all my willpower. I didn't like Vivian, but that didn't mean I wanted to kill her, either.
The quaking subsided as quickly as it stirred. I rubbed my temple, drained. Maybe a priest would be able to exorcise
tu ch’i.
It was like a demonic possession. Kind of. I wondered if it mattered that I wasn't Catholic.
As soon as Jesse's gaze fell on me, he pried himself off Vivian's arm and headed straight to my section of the bar. To her dismay, I'm sure.
"Hey, babe." He slid onto a stool and frowned. "What's wrong?"
"Just a headache," I said with a weak smile. Without asking, I grabbed a glass to fix him his usual: mineral water with lime, made to look like a gin and tonic. The whole time, his puzzled gaze followed me.
But I knew he wouldn't pry even though he could tell I wasn't myself. We respected each other's privacy. There were trade-offs, of course—like I couldn't ask him why he didn't drink alcohol. But at times like this, respecting his past seemed a small price to pay. I certainly didn't want to talk about mine.
"Thanks." He flashed me a half grin and set a bill on the bar. I don't know how many times I'd told him he didn't have to pay, but he always did. Way more than he needed to. I'd tell him to stop, but it aggravated Vivian, so I let it pass.
I never said I was perfect.
Vivian huffed and stormed off to the office, probably to deposit her things. I had a brief flare of panic, worrying about her finding the scroll, but Vivian would never sift through the crap in Johnny's domain. It might mess up her manicure.
"Sorry about that." Jesse shook his head. "I met up with her outside the door and she attached herself to me."
"You don't owe me any explanations." I was used to seeing women, and occasionally men (this
was
San Francisco, after all), go crazy over him. It was his bad-boy look: the tattoos on his arms, leather jacket, worn jeans. More than that, I didn't mind seeing him with other women. It was just Vivian I objected to.
Sometimes his casual possessiveness got on my nerves. I hadn't dated anyone in the year since I broke up with him, but I bet if I brought a guy around, Jesse would flip out. Especially if the guy were a dark warrior disguised in a suit.
I glanced at the table where the British guy had sat and was struck by a fresh wave of disappointment that he was no longer around.
Just as well. He seemed like he'd be high maintenance. High maintenance was the last thing I needed.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
I blinked at Jesse. I'd forgotten he was there. "Just peachy."
"You only use 'peachy' when you're anything but."
Something that felt an awful lot like chaos rose in my chest—something that had nothing to do with
tu ch’i
but was just as uncomfortable. Swallowing the panic in its wake, I picked up a rag and wiped the counter.
"I struck too close to home, huh?"
Best to change the subject. I tossed the rag aside and tried to smile. "I wasn't expecting you tonight."
His lips quirked at my obvious segue, but his eyes looked sad. He played along, though. "I heard the news through the grapevine and I came to celebrate."
I froze as his words registered. He heard about the scroll? How? Did he see Wu? A shot of alarm coursed through me. I did a quick survey of the bar—it'd been a long time since Wu had made his presence known. Was he wreaking havoc behind my back?
"Hey."
I frowned at Jesse. "What?"
"Sure you don't want to talk about it?" He traced the turned-down corner of my mouth. "You don't seem yourself. I thought you'd be more elated about the gallery show."
The gallery show.
Right. "Today's been a little overwhelming, to tell you the truth. How did you hear? I haven't told many people."
He cocked one eyebrow.
Right. How silly of me. He had connections.
"Want to know what I had in mind?" His low, rough voice made me frown. I knew he used it on purpose—to bring us back to familiar, sex-without-strings territory. Hut it just sounded wrong. It was missing something. Like a British accent.
Leaning on the counter behind me, I hid my discomfort behind a friendly smile. "Celebrate, huh? What were you thinking?"
He reached out and took my hand, his gaze on my mouth. "I thought we could go back to your place."
I could tell he was imagining kissing me. Sometimes when he didn't think I was looking, he'd get that look in his eyes, like he longed to get me naked again, but never as blatantly as right now.
And it annoyed me. What part of
I don't think we should see each other anymore
was ambiguous? I was about to tell him he needed to back off when
tu ch’i
started to bubble up inside me, hot and molten.
An image of Jesse lying on the ground, his dead gaze sightlessly accusing, popped into my mind. I recoiled with a gasp, tugging my hand out of his.
He caught hold of my apron strings and pulled me forward before I could scramble away. "Tell me what's going on, Gabe."
There was something in his eyes that I'd never seen before—something too serious. If I wanted to be honest, I'd admit that he'd been looking at me like that a lot lately.
Honesty was overrated.
The curse still rippled, but I didn't feel like it was about to erupt. Still, I wasn't going to risk touching him. I gently pulled my apron from his grip. "I've got to get back to work."
Disappointment darkened his gaze, but he flashed his crooked bad-boy grin. "Maybe I'll stick around and walk you home. In case you change your mind."
I sighed. "Jesse, I'm not going to change my mind."
"I have a lot to offer, babe." The words were spoken casually, but I heard the loaded meaning behind them.
Ironically, I was saved from answering by Vivian. Feeling her death stare boring into my back, I turned around right as she ducked behind the bar. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her bony elbow swing wide, aiming for my midsection, and deflected it. She was so predictable.
"Hello Viv," I said sweetly.
She glared at me, and I knew without a doubt that she'd witnessed my whole exchange with Jesse. She'd been trying to get him into her bed forever. Seeing him with me really got to her. I tried to be a better person and not feel good about that, but I couldn't help gloating. Just a little.
Usually I would have taunted her more, but tonight I just wanted out of there. I closed up my register and cleaned up the broken glass and spilled alcohol in record time. I supposed I could have let Vivian clean up—she was supposed to close, after all—but if I left things a mess for her, she'd retaliate tenfold. Besides, Jesse's eyes were on me the whole time, and that infuriated her.
"Done?" he asked when he saw me toss the rag into the bin.
"Done. But, listen, tonight's not good. I have a few things I need to take care of." Going around the counter, I pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and walked away before he could say or do anything.
I hurried to the office, put on my jacket, and unburied the box.
Tu ch’i
tugged at me when my hand touched the box. I tensed, waiting for it to explode to life, but it died down with a weak ripple. Thank God. Relieved, I turned around and found Jesse in the doorway.
"What's the package?" He nodded at the box.
"Just some papers I got today."
"For your show?"
I studied him with narrowed eyes. What was with all the questions? And why did he show up suddenly tonight? Why was he so insistent on going home with me? Could he know about the scroll?
Tu ch’i
swelled, echoing my suspicion. I fought it back, but I couldn't help but be distrustful of Jesse's interest. Only how much of my doubt was justified and how much was real?
Oh, God—Wu's crazy delusions had transferred to me along with the scroll. This was
Jesse.
I shook my head to dislodge the suspicions. Soon I'd believe I was being followed by black helicopters.
Jesse frowned. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." I clutched the box tighter. "I'm just tired. It's been a long day."
He took a step closer. "I can help you with the tension."
"Jesse—"
"Come on, babe." He snaked his arms around my waist. "Take me home with you. I miss you."
His embrace was warm and familiar. I waited for the zing of sexual awareness I'd always felt with him. Nothing.
Instead, I remembered the way my body had gone up in flames at the one glancing touch of the British guy's hand. Just thinking about it now made my nipples tighten, and I felt a rush of longing.
But not for Jesse. And I didn't want to give him the impression that he was the one turning me on, so I shrugged out of his hold and clutched the box to my abdomen as if it was a shield. "I'm too tired for this."
He stared at me; God knows what thoughts were running through his head. Then he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and said, "I'll walk you home."
"I—"
"Just to make sure you're safe," he cut into my protest.
Normally, I would have scoffed at such an offer—I'd spent my entire childhood learning the finer points of kung fu, after all. But I felt shaky with the scroll on my person, and having a brawny guy with me was that much more comforting. So I nodded. "Okay."
The whole six blocks to my apartment, I was torn between keeping Jesse at arm's length, worrying about whether Wu was going to suddenly pop out of nowhere, and being hypervigilant about having the scroll out in the open. Call me paranoid, but I had a weird feeling I was being watched. And not in the Brit's hot, expectant, sexually charged kind of way. More menacing.
At the rate I was going, I'd be a basket case by the end of the week.
"You're in a hurry tonight. You that tired?"
No—that freaked out. I was roaming the streets with the equivalent of an atom bomb in my hands. I walked even faster. "A lot happened today."
"I wish—" He shook his head, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. Instead of continuing his thought, he sped up to keep pace with me. "Let's get you home."
My apartment was on the fringes, as I called it. Ten years ago, the part of the Mission where I lived was definitely dangerous; now it was only somewhat questionable.
Apartment
is kind of an exaggeration, though. It was minuscule, even by San Francisco standards. The front room fit my futon, and I could fry an egg and take a shower at the same time, which made it convenient that I didn't cook.
But the reason I took it, except for the cheap rent, was the back room: my solarium slash painting studio. It'd been a porch at one time but was enclosed at some point with glass. It was incredible—not huge, but the natural light that filtered in during the day was amazing. It made the frigid cold from the lack of insulation worth it.
We arrived at my front door without incident. I unlocked it, but before I could thank him for the company and send him on his way, he slipped inside past me.
"What the hell?" I muttered. I followed him, closing the door behind me. Then I locked it for good measure. No sense in taking chances when the scroll wasn't secure yet.
My birthmark tingled as if agreeing.
Jesse poked his head into the bathroom and then casually checked out the kitchen before disappearing into my studio.
It seemed like he was scoping things out. Was he checking for another guy? The Brit came to mind, and I snorted as I pictured his elegance in my meager shack.
I'd get down to the bottom of Jesse's weird behavior— after I stowed the scroll away. Walking briskly, I went into the little kitchenette and put it in the safest place I could think of: the refrigerator. No one would look for it there.
As I closed the refrigerator door, I paused. Maybe I should check it first. I hadn't looked at it since I hid it in the office, after all. I'd just make sure everything was in order, maybe open it and take a look—
"Gabe? What are you doing?"
Jesse's voice reverberated in my head. Blinking, I realized I had the fridge door handle in a death grip.
He leaned in the doorway between the kitchen and my studio, concern furrowing his brow. "Gabe?"
Strange. I forced myself to step away from the fridge and faced him. "What were you doing?"
"What do you mean?"
I frowned at the caution in his tone. "It was like you were casing the joint."