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“Convenient for who?” he growled back.

There was another, longer silence.

Exhaling in annoyance––and purely for show, since vampires don’t need to breathe––Nick gave up. He turned around, and walked directly into the closet. He set his shoesin their place on his shoe-rack and began to strip, pulling off everything he’d worn for his five-hour jaunt around the city and stuffing it all in the dirty clothes hamper until he was naked.

His eyes glanced over the clean clothes he had left.

In the end, he just walked out of the closet, still naked, and towards the shower. He didn’t sweat much as a vampire, or smell like a human did, but he still felt grimy from being all over the city and showers felt absolutely fucking amazing with his vampire senses and skin.

He didn’t try to talk to Jem again.

Whatever the seer’s problem was, Nick decided to wait for Jem to come to him.

He hoped that didn’t mean he’d be waiting a long fucking time.

6

THE PAST

Isat down on a leather chair that let out a heavysqueakso familiar I let out a little gasp as my weight settled. It felt completely surreal, being back in my old office on Fillmore.

I wasn’t sure yet, if I wanted to be there at all.

I absolutely knew I didn’tneedto be there… and gods, we surely didn’t need the money. But rather than taking the pressure off my decision to do this, to try it out for a few months at least, that lack of need made me distinctly uncomfortable.

WhatwasI doing here?

Taking a trip down memory lane?

Definitely lying to myself, possibly in more than one way.

“What do you think, Panther?” I stroked the head and nose of the big black wolfhound who plopped down next to my leather chair.

He’d already made one full circuit of the place, nose to the ratty carpet. He’d sniffed all over the waiting area chairs, the rug, the table, the old reception desk, and now he’d just finished doing the same with my old office, before circling back to sit by me.

I rubbed his ears. “What do you think, buddy?” I cooed. “Is mommy crazy?”

Itwasa little crazy, coming back here.

I don’t know why I thought I could just re-start my old life, like the last few years hadn’t happened. Not to mention, why on earth would I evenwantto?

Nick always said I was wasted in private therapy.

The night we went out to celebrate me finally earning my PhD, Nick drunkenly told me that I belonged in forensic psychology, either in profiling or research, possibly both, not in private counseling. He’d joked, even then, that I should help him and Angel catch murderers, not waste my time listening to wealthy people in San Francisco talk about their “issues.”

I agreed with him, honestly.

So why hadn’t I taken the job Black offered me, and run his forensics department?

Black hadn’t said much when I turned him down, but he must have wondered, too. To his credit, he didn’t try to talk me out of it. He simply listened as I explained my own plan instead, his face impossible to read.

When I finished, he offered me space in one of his buildings.

He offered the California Street building first, of course.

He talked up the redesign, the building upgrades, the fact that Nick, Angel, Jem, Kiko, Dex, and Cowboy would all be working out of there, along with Manny and Yarli when they got back from overseas. He showed me the redesign, the new security system, the new equipment and computers… the monstrous espresso machine and diner-style booths he’d added to the break room.

He offered me my pick of floors, suite sizes, parking spots, views.