Mosaic Moon Read online

  "Why?"

  His lips thinned. "Is this a vampire thing or something? Gideon, you can't say those sorts of things to your friends. And you can't say something like that to somebody like Emma."

  Gideon knew what Jesse was trying to say, but he wasn't going to let him try and explain it away so easily. "Somebody like Emma? What's that supposed to mean? She's human, isn't she? Beautiful. Receptive. What am I missing here?"

  "You're missing the fact that she deserves better than that."

  "Better than what?"

  Jesse groaned. "You're like a dog with a bone, do you know that?" He covered his face with his arm, like he was trying to block Gideon out. But it wasn't going to do any good. He could wait Jesse out. "She deserves more than just...lust. Or fucking. She deserves to be taken care of. She deserves somebody who loves her."

  Gently, Gideon reached out and grasped Jesse's wrist, bending his arm back to force Jess to look at him. "And do you think if that was all you wanted, that if this was just a sex thing, this would be bothering you as much as it is? You don't have problems with simple lust, Jess. I've seen you."

  "I don't know why it's bothering me as much as it is," he whispered. "I don't know why I find Ethan so insufferable. He's a good guy, Gideon. He's never done anything to hurt her. And I don't know why I snapped at her today, but I felt like shit afterward. So tell me, Gideon, please what you're trying to get at."

  He held his gaze, but kept his voice low and soothing. "I'm trying to get you to a place where you're happy," Gideon said. "I'm trying to get you to admit that you don't want Emma as a friend. You want her as something more because you love her."

  "I can't love her, Gideon. How do I have room for that? For her? I don't know if you've noticed this or not, but you're pretty much the center of my universe."

  Bending down, Gideon caught Jesse's lips in a slow caress of a kiss, but the moment Jess tried to deepen it, he pulled away. "You said can't," he murmured. "Not don't."

  "No, I didn't say don't. But you didn't answer my question."

  His mouth canted into a half-smile. "Because it was a dumb question. You don't have room for more love? Fuck, Jess, you have the biggest heart of anybody I've ever met. Ever," he stressed. "If I'm the center of your universe--which I'm not complaining about, mind you--it's because you put me there. But the truth of it is, there's half a world out there that I don't have access to. That Emma walks in. That you deserve to have. And I can't think of a person I'd rather you share it with than her."

  "I really do love you a lot, you know." He took a deep breath. "It's not as easy as just going over to talk to her. I mean, you had to fuck me into a brick wall before it even occurred to me that maybe the attraction, if not the feelings, were mutual."

  "But I wasn't an empath. I was just a horny vampire on a drug high. Think of how much easier it's going to be to get her to understand. As long as you let her in."

  "You do realize I'll probably think this is all a dream when I wake up tomorrow. I mean, it's not every night my vampire lover tries to play matchmaker."

  Gideon rested his head back on the pillow, regarding Jesse's profile in the dim illumination. "I'll just have to remind you," he said. He rested a hand over the middle of Jesse's chest, absorbing the calm rhythm of his heartbeat. "You and Emma are the two most important people in my life. I just want you both happy."

  Jesse rolled over, his body curling into Gideon's. "You make me happy." He rested his head on Gideon's shoulder. "I think...I think being honest with Emma would also make me happy. But you don't think I'm unhappy, do you?"

  "No, but I know I like our lives best when Emma's around." He brushed his mouth across Jesse's temple. "And she's not talking about that schmuck Ethan."

  "I'll go talk to her tomorrow," Jesse promised. "I don't know what I'll say to her, but I'll figure something out." He yawned. "Can I go back to sleep now? My head is full of cotton."

  "Go to sleep," Gideon directed. Within moments, Jesse's breath had evened out again, a deep, even rhythm that fanned across his bare skin. He wondered briefly if he should have been worried about Jesse's feelings for Emma, but his certainty of Jesse's devotion outweighed it, by far. If ever there was room for a third person in their lives, it was Emma.

  Now it was just a matter of convincing her of that.

  Chapter 6

  * * *

  Jesse parked outside Emma's apartment building nine days after his late-night conversation with Gideon--a conversation that had not been forgotten even if it took on new dimensions of weirdness every time Jesse thought about it. Despite his promise to visit Emma the day after they spoke, he kept pushing it off. First, he realized that morning he wasn't going to be talking to anybody about anything. He needed most of the week to recover from Gideon's whipping. Then, he had to deal with John's request. Plus, he needed to help Gideon prepare for his short trip to Wisconsin.

  But that afternoon, he realized he was out of excuses. He had been sitting alone in the office, thinking about Emma, missing Gideon, and covering yet another legal pad with yet another set of interlocking rings. No reason not to go. No reason to be a coward about it. And he had promised. Breaking a promise to Gideon was unthinkable, even if the task was distasteful, even frightening.

  "Screw your courage to the sticking place," Jesse muttered under his breath as he stepped out of the Jeep, "and we'll not fail."

  He shouldn't have to go through this. He was in a long-term, committed relationship with a man he loved and adored. This scenario didn't need to happen again. History was repeating on him. But...

  But he had laid it on the line for Gideon. He had refused to accept anything less than what he wanted. He had agonized over that decision less than this--and for all intents and purposes, Gideon was a much scarier individual than Emma.

  Squaring his shoulders, Jesse marched up to her apartment. He didn't doubt that she would be home. She always had Tuesdays off. He knocked on the door like he had a million times before. He still didn't know what he planned to say. He hoped he would be struck with some sort of divine inspiration when he saw her.

  Somehow, it never occurred to Jesse that Ethan would be answering her door.

  "Hey," Ethan greeted, his face open and pleasant. "Did you and Emma have plans today?"

  "No. No, I just found myself in the neighborhood and thought she might like lunch," Jesse answered, hoping his smile looked genuine.

  "She's not here right now. She had a few errands to run." Ethan held the door open. "But you're welcome to come in and wait. I know she'd be happy to see you."

  "Thanks," Jesse said, the smile still plastered to his face.

  It froze there when he stepped into the room and realized that Ethan wasn't just killing time in her apartment. He looked comfortable. At home, even. Magazines and books that Jess knew Emma didn't read were stacked on her coffee table, and the distinctive smell of onions drifted from the kitchen, but Emma didn't eat onions. She didn't drink coffee either, but a brand new French press was sitting proudly on the counter.

  "Emma mentioned you had a few new clients," Ethan said, gesturing to the couch. "I guess that's why you haven't been distracting her."

  "Distracting her?" Jesse asked, sitting down stiffly. "I have been a little busy."

  "Would you like something to drink?"

  "No, I'm good."

  Ethan settled in the chair across from Jess, resting his ankle on his other knee. It didn't seem right for him to be so comfortable while Jesse felt so ill at ease.

  "Yeah. I'm not the jealous sort, but it's a little hard to be patient when you're sharing your girlfriend with another man."

  Jesse straightened. "You're not sharing her with anybody. We're just friends."

  "Right," Ethan said softly. "I didn't mean to imply otherwise. Of course, if I did, you'll understand why I might be suspicious."

  "No." Monosyllabic answers seemed to be the best route to take. Jesse knew he did not want to get sucked into this conversation--or any conversation--wi
th Ethan.

  "You really don't like me." He smiled, like he had long ago resigned himself to that. "And for a long time, I couldn't figure out why. Had I offended you in some way? Did your father swear out a blood oath on my father? Did we wrong each other in a previous life? And Emma just thinks you hung the moon."

  Jesse didn't reply. What could he say? No, I think you're a great guy? He didn't like Ethan much, but he respected him enough as a person not to lie directly to his face.

  "I know why you're here, Jesse."

  He kept his face impassive. "Are you reading me?"

  "It would take more energy than it's worth to block you. I can't just turn it off and on. When you come in...broadcasting like you are, I don't have a choice." He shook his head. "What did you think this was going to accomplish, Jess?"

  "What makes you think it's any of your business?"

  "She's my girlfriend. One day, I hope she's more than that. We love each other. It's my business when another man makes a move on her." He tilted his head and paused. "Oh, you didn't know that, did you?"

  Jesse shifted uncomfortably. Ethan's abilities were sharper than Emma's. Michelle had told him as much. Sharper, more focused, and probably more sophisticated. Jesse didn't like to be under scrutiny at the best of times. He especially didn't like it when it seemed like the other person was dissecting him, cataloguing him, studying and dismissing him.

  "Look, I didn't come here to start a fight with you," Jesse said.

  "What? Did you think I'd just let her go without a fight? Did you think about the consequences of this little visit at all?" Ethan demanded, not unfairly.

  Jesse hadn't done anything except think about the consequences. He had known there was a good possibility they were sleeping together. But he honestly never suspected there was more to their relationship than that. Wouldn't Emma have mentioned something, anything, if she were falling in love with Ethan?

  Maybe she would have if she thought Jess would approve. Had he ever done anything to indicate he'd approve of Ethan? He never offered her a single word of encouragement when it came to her relationship with the other empath.

  "You don't need to fight with me, Ethan. I didn't know you were...a couple."

  "How could you not know?"

  "I never asked."

  He was tempted to snatch onto that and run with it. He didn't know because Emma never mentioned it. How important could it have been if Emma never thought to tell him about it? Maybe Ethan should explain that. But he abandoned the idea. Ethan could explain it, quite easily--Emma never mentioned it because Jesse did not want to know.

  "You should just be a friend to her, Jesse." And now Ethan sounded absurdly gentle, and even kind. If it was meant to soothe his nerves, it had the completely opposite effect. Ethan grimaced. "Well, I guess that's not what you want to hear. Christ, I'm not your enemy. We both want what's best for Emma."

  "And you think you're it?" Jesse asked.

  "Do you disagree? I have the time to give her the attention she needs. I know what she's going through. Do you have any idea what it's like to be an empath? How alone she was before she met me? I know you helped her a lot, and you mean a lot to her, but you can't understand her like I do."

  Jesse stood. This was an unfair fight. He couldn't disagree with Ethan, but he did know what was going on. Ethan was picking up on every moment of doubt, every pinprick of insecurity, and he knew exactly when to twist the knife.

  It didn't help that Ethan was right.

  "Do you want me to tell her you came by?"

  "No. I'll call her later," Jesse said, almost childishly hoping to get a rise out of Ethan.

  "You should. She's been worried about you."

  Jesse nodded. "I'll show myself out."

  He didn't wait for Ethan to say anything else. He needed to get the fuck out of that room and away from Ethan as quickly as he could. He hurried out to his Jeep, not giving in to the torrent of anger until he thought he was safely out of Ethan's reach. He was angry at himself, and Gideon, and Ethan, and the entire stupid situation.

  If somebody had come sniffing around Gideon, Jesse would not have reacted as calmly, or sent the interloper away with the admonishment to call. And he was pretty certain Gideon wouldn't react as serenely if the roles were reversed. So either Ethan had reached a new stage of enlightenment--and maybe he had--or he simply didn't view Jesse as a threat.

  Because he was already secure in Emma's life, certain her heart belonged to him?

  Perhaps it was for the best that Ethan had been there to answer the door. As horrible as that exchange was, a similar conversation with Emma would have been a thousand times more excruciating.

  Jesse sighed and turned the key, the engine roaring to life. He just wanted to get home and work on carefully reburying all the feelings Gideon had worked so hard to bring to the surface.

  * * * *

  Some people were stress eaters. Gideon was a stress eater, which, honestly, was a bit frightening. Jesse, on the other hand, had always turned to shopping when he needed an outlet and sex wasn't an option. Somehow, acquiring a bunch of stuff he didn't need and may never use always improved his mood. The more frivolous, the better. He didn't want to get something home and realize that he needed it all along, and he was totally justified in purchasing it.

  Gideon had a stash of money in his office that Jesse was always welcome to, and he helped himself to it without regret. He stuffed his wallet with bills, mentally compiling a list of stores he needed to hit. It would take all afternoon, and a good portion of the evening. But Gideon wasn't going to be home until late, and what else did he have to do with his time?

  The ringing phone answered that question for him. Jesse checked the caller ID, his shoulders drooping when he recognized John's number. He'd want answers, want to know what Gideon was doing, want to know how soon he could expect results. The fact that Gideon didn't even know about John's problem hadn't actually hindered Jesse's investigation. His distraction over Emma and his healing back had hindered Jesse's investigation, but not Gideon's ignorance.

  Even so, Jesse let the voice mail pick up the call. He didn't feel like talking to anybody.

  He stood in the center of the room, undecided. He could work, justify his existence and his decision to get out of bed that morning. Or he could shop, which would ultimately be a short-term solution to his troubles and an unsatisfying one at that.

  Ultimately, Jesse turned to his chair instead of the door. He pulled his notes out of the bottom drawer, spreading the pages out over the desk. John had not been very helpful, the details he provided slim at best. John didn't seem to understand that he couldn't keep the entire situation shrouded in mystery if he wanted an answer.

  Jesse frowned. What pieces were still missing from this puzzle? He needed locations. A rash of grave robbing would not have gone unnoticed, even if the authorities managed to keep it out of the news. Despite his desire to never talk to anybody again, Jesse knew he had a phone call to make. He would reward himself for it later.

  "O'Dell." The sounds of the precinct filtered through the background, unintelligible voices that decorated the world Derek O'Dell walked in. He was Gideon's primary contact with the police, though more often than not, he dealt with Jesse. Safe, reliable, and even better, totally distinct from any of the chaos of Jesse's personal life.

  "Hey, Derek. It's Jesse. Can you spare a minute?"

  "Sure, what do you need?"

  If he had learned anything about Derek in the years they worked together, it was that the other man didn't have time for coy games. It was best to jump right to the problem. "Have there been any recent reports of grave robbers in the area?"

  There was a pause. "How'd you know about those?"

  Jesse almost smiled. Derek knew something. "An interested party has charged me with finding the guy responsible."

  Derek snorted. "Good luck. The son of a bitch hasn't left a tick of forensic evidence for us. Just a lot of pissed off families who want to know what the h
ell Chicago PD is doing about a bunch of desecrated graves."

  He sighed. "Oddly enough, I'm not surprised at the lack of evidence. Can you fax the reports over here? I'd like to investigate the desecrated graves myself."

  "All of them?" There was the click of typing on a keyboard. "Did your interested party happen to tell you how many graves have been robbed so far?"

  "No." The area behind his eyes began to throb. He had hoped for two or three, maybe four. Judging from the Derek's tone, there was a lot more than that. "My interested party was very vague. Purposely so, I suspect. How many?"

  "I've got fourteen dug-up graves scattered through the city and the 'burbs in the last three weeks. You really want 'em all?"

  No. Fourteen wasn't something he could keep to himself. Goddamn John. "Yeah, you better send them all."

  "You got it." Jess caught Derek's low humming over the line. Of course, Derek was in a good mood. He'd just fobbed off fourteen open cases onto somebody with a track record for getting things done. "You know if I send these to you, I want the collar."

  Jesse thought of John's ultimate request and lied through his teeth. "No problem. He's yours. If you get any more reports, I want to see those, too. I doubt the graves are chosen randomly."

  "Good luck finding a pattern. We've been at such a dead end on these, I was tempted to call and see if I could borrow Emma. See if there's something the families are covering up."

  Jesse mimed hitting his forehead with the receiver before answering. "Emma has been helping me a little bit on this one. Asking her to speak to the families is probably a good idea. I doubt any of them are connected to the crimes, though. Have you...had the chance to speak to Emma recently?"

  "Recently? Nah. The last time I called her up, I made an ass out of myself."

  "What happened?" Jesse asked, more sympathetic than curious.

  "I made the mistake of asking her out." He laughed. "You know, you could have warned me she was seeing somebody. Saved me a couple hundred bucks on concert tickets I had to give to my sister and her husband."