amazing grasp of the English language, but there were days when that skill was nothing compared to what he told me in his looks.
When I finished his legs, I climbed up behind him on the couch and worked on his back and chest too. I'd been giving massages almost as long as I'd been dancing. I knew exactly what to do, knew where all the muscle groups were and how to unkink them. Seth had a lot of stiffness and knots in his back, either from bad laptop posture or stress. Maybe both.
At last, the job was complete. Heedless of oil on me or the couch, he leaned back and pulled me to his chest. My cheek rested on his smooth, slick skin, and the scent of almond and Seth enveloped me.
'Ah, Georgina,' he sighed. 'I wish I could return that.'
'I'll just pretend you did.'
He sighed again. 'I hate the pretending.'
'Yeah.'
'I mean it. Really hate it.'
The vehemence in his voice startled me. I lifted my head up. 'You okay?'
'Yeah…I'm just…I don't know.' He shook his head. 'Frustrated, I guess.'
'Sexually frustrated?'
'Sure…but it's more than that. Do you ever think about us…just, you know, doing it maybe once?'
'No,' I said immediately. 'Absolutely not.'
'I'd take the risk.'
'The shooting addled your brain. You've always been the strong one, remember?'
'The shooting's made me think about what life means, that's all.' He sounded just like Maddie. How could such a foolish gesture on his part be inspiring so many people? Was I too jaded? Could I no longer relate to humans? 'And I mean, I can't even reciprocate a simple massage. You perform all the time for me…but what do you get? You must be the one who's sexually frustrated. The stuff you do on the side…well, that doesn't matter. Sometimes I think Hugh was right. You do suffer more than me.'
'No, I don't. The sex stuff bugs me, but I can handle it.'
'I hope I can,' said Seth. 'When I was in the hospital, I had this weird moment where I started thinking about how I write about all these action-packed things but don't live any of it. O'Neill has dozens of great romances, but me? I can't even have one.'
'It sucks,' I agreed. 'But with the risks…well. We know this is how it has to be.'
'What about the rest?'
'Hmm?'
Seth shifted slightly so that he could look into my face. 'Do you really think about me dying? Do you worry about me?'
'Sometimes.'
'Am I going to cause you pain in the end?'
'No,' I said breezily. 'Of course not.'
He pulled me back to his chest. 'I love you, Georgina. You give me more joy than I ever expected to find in this life. I want to be with you…' He ran a hand through my hair, tangling it in his fingers. 'But not if it's going to do more harm than good. I don't want you to hurt. I don't want you to spend the rest of my life worrying about my body and my soul. I don't want you to cry when I'm gone.'
A lump formed in my throat, and I thought I might actually start crying then and there. There was something in his voice, a strange and ominous note that scared me for reasons I couldn't entirely explain. I dug my fingers into his skin and pressed myself closer to him.
'No more,' I whispered. 'I don't want to talk about this anymore. It isn't relevant.'
Seth tightened his grip on me and didn't respond. We went to bed after that, speaking little. He snuggled against me, resting his head on my chest. I ran my fingers through his hair, taking in his scent and his feel. As he slipped into sleep, I thought about what he'd said about what puts meaning into life. I thought about wanting and needing.
And what I needed right then was energy. Tawny'd wiped me out, and there was no way I was going to start shifting back to the body I'd been born with. Still touching Seth's hair, I thought how easy it would be to just lean down and kiss him. Really kiss him. And kiss him and kiss him…
Wanting and needing.
Regretfully, I slipped out of bed. Seth was a heavy sleeper and simply rolled to his side, never coming close to waking. With a wistful look, I left the condo and used my last bit of energy to put on a different shape. Finding a victim wasn't hard—further reinforcing how absurd the whole Tawny thing was—and in less than two hours, I was back in bed with Seth and recharged. That creepy voice didn't speak to me, for which I was grateful. Sad but sated, I fell asleep.
And I dreamed.
CHAPTER 18
My dream-self sprinted out of the kitchen and toward the sound of the crying. Aubrey and the mystery cat jerked their heads up, surprised at my sudden movement. On the other side of the living room, the little girl sat on the floor beside an end table with sharp corners, a small hand pressed to her forehead. Tears streamed down her checks as she wailed.
In a flash, my dream-self was on her knees and had wrapped the little girl up in a tight embrace. I could feel what the other Georgina felt, and I nearly wept as well over the feel of that soft, warm body in my arms. My dream-self rocked the girl, murmuring soothing, nonsensical words as she brushed her lips against the silken hair. Eventually, the girl's sobs stopped, and she rested her head against my dream-self's chest, content to simply be loved and rocked.
I opened my eyes and stared at Seth's plain white ceiling. He lay beside me, curled up near my body and still smelling like the massage oil. Even awake, the dream's images were still strong and so real. I knew exactly how my daughter's hair had felt, the way she smelled, the rhythm of her heart. My own heart pined so much for her that I could almost ignore the fact that last night's energy was now gone.
This was turning into a real problem.
I sat up, gently pushing Seth off of me. But as I tried to figure out what to do about this latest dream, a strange thought kept pressing into the back of my head.
Erik. I couldn't stop thinking about Erik. It was nothing in particular, either. No specific problem. But, whenever I tried to think about something else—my job, the energy loss, Seth—it was Erik's face that appeared in my head. I didn't understand it, but it worried me.
Seth's arms reached for me as I slipped out of bed, but I skillfully avoided them. Grabbing my cell phone out of my purse, I headed off toward the living room. No one answered when I dialed Arcana, Ltd. It was almost ten… usually he was open by then. I called information in search of Erik's home number, but it appeared to be unlisted.
A sense of dread was building in me. Desperate, I dialed Dante's store.
'Dante, I think something's happened to Erik, but I don't have his home number and—'
'Whoa, whoa, succubus. Slow down. Start from the beginning.'
Backing up, I explained how I'd dreamed again and woken up obsessed with Erik.
'Maybe it's nothing, but after the drowning thing…I don't know. Do you have his home number?'
'Yeah,' Dante said after several moments. 'I do. I'll…I'll check on him for you and give you a call back.'
'Thanks, Dante. I mean it.'
I disconnected as a sleepy Seth stepped out of the bedroom. 'Who's Dante? Was that a collect call to the Inferno?'
'They won't accept the charges,' I murmured, still troubled. Seth's face turned serious.
'What's wrong?'
I hesitated, not because I was afraid to tell him about Dante but because I didn't know if I wanted him
