We got an atlas of the Pacific Northwest area from my car and laid it flat on the kitchen table. Scrutinizing every detail, we each marked as many places as we knew. Dante knew a lot more than me, which didn’t particularly surprise me. I’d once noted to Erik Lancaster that those who study religion tend to know more about it than those who practice it. Sometimes, I felt the same way about immortal affairs.

We found twelve in all that were easy day trips—and many more beyond that. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you,” Dante mused. “When are you going to look? Too dark now.”

I stared at the map with dismay. “Tomorrow, I guess. Can you go with me?” A psychic like him might able to sense something, as Carter had pointed out.

He grimaced. “Not tomorrow. I’ve actually got a few appointments people have scheduled. Crazy, huh? I probably can go the next day or the day after, if you can wait. I’d feel better if you didn’t go alone.”

I was glad for his business but sad at the delay. “I don’t think I can wait. Don’t worry, though. I’ll find somebody.”

“On the bright side,” he said, trying to cheer me. “I’ll have money tomorrow. We can go out somewhere nice.”

I mustered a smile. “Yeah, that’ll be—oh, shit. I can’t.”

“What’s going on?”

“Fuck. I promised the people at the store I’d teach salsa after work.”

“Cancel,” he said dismissively. My dance lessons didn’t hold much importance, as far as he was concerned. “Tell them you’re sick.”

That wouldn’t entirely be a lie . . . and yet, I hated to go back on my word. Furthermore, I could still see Maddie’s radiant face, so excited and happy when I’d agreed. How could I deny her that after what I’d done to her today?

“No . . . I’ve got to do it. Let’s go eat out now. My treat.”

He drove us over to Belltown for some of Seattle’s best seafood. Wine and conversation flowed, and I discovered I was healing by leaps and bounds. When we got back to my place later and went to bed, Dante snuggled up to me and kissed my neck.

“Looks like you’re on the mend,” he noted, moving his lips up to my earlobe. “We could do it . . . I could be careful . . .”

All around us were the sheets and blankets where Seth and I had made love earlier. The thought nearly smothered me. God. I really should have washed the bedding. I swallowed and shifted position so that I didn’t meet Dante’s eyes. “Maybe . . . but I’d rather wait, so we can not be careful.” I hoped there was enough of a seductive growl in my voice to make it believable.

Dante sighed, fortunately unwilling to push me. “Fair enough.”