“Um, yeah. And so long as he’s gone, we’re all in this weird state. Peter calls it ‘stasis.’ None of us have our pow—abilities anymore. I can’t shape-shift. Hugh can’t see souls. The only ones who are happy about this are the vampires because they can go in the sun again, which’ll probably end up killing them. And if we don’t find Jerome soon, someone else is going to take over here, and I really don’t want that. And yet . . . I really don’t want to go another second like this either, being in this limbo. I want everything to go back to how it was.”

Seth’s face was unreadable as he regarded me for several heavy seconds. Finally, he said, “Is it . . . is it so bad going without shape-shifting?”

I shook my head and began to ramble further. “It’s not that. It’s the fact that I may not be immortal anymore. I can’t . . . I can’t handle that. Coming here was horrible. The walk from my apartment. I’m afraid of everything. It’s stupid. I mean, you guys—humans—get by all the time and don’t think about it. But I’m scared to leave the house. Scared of what could happen to me. And when that car didn’t see me right away—fuck. I just froze. I was paralyzed. God, I feel like an idiot. I must sound crazy.”

At long last, a tear leaked out of the corner of one eye, the final stamp on my weakness. Seth reached out and gently wiped it away. He didn’t withdraw his hand when finished, though. He slid it to my shoulder and pulled me to him. I rested my head on his chest, swallowing back more tears as I sank into the protection he offered.

“Georgina, Georgina,” he murmured, running his hand over my back. “It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Those words . . . there was something so wonderful about them, simple as they were. When people are distressed, others have an instinct to want to actually do something tangible to help—men in particular. And there’s nothing wrong with that—often, it’s very much desired. But what a lot of people don’t get is that sometimes, all that’s needed is to hear those words: Everything’s going to be okay. It’s enough to know that someone’s there, that someone cares about you. It isn’t always about the next logical course of action.

My next words, spoken into his Hong Kong Phooey shirt, came out muffled. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. With any of this. I’m so scared. I don’t think I’ve been this afraid since I thought Roman was going to kill me.”