Jack stood shirtless and shoeless in the middle of the bedroom. The sight of him there in the morning sunlight with his hair mussed from sleep was enough to drop her IQ about fifty points. She stopped and stared for a moment, slack-jawed, before recovering.

He dangled her pentagram from one long finger. "I found this on the carpet in the living room.”

"Must have fallen off while you were accosting me," she snapped. She walked over and took it from him.

He grabbed her wrist before she could pull away and drew her close to him. The muscles of his forearm and chest rippled with the movement. Skitters of pleasure and apprehension ran through her body as he brushed her damp hair away from her face and tipped her chin to the side to take a look at the bruise. "It's better today.”

Mira frowned. "I'm not sure, but I think it's already healing. That doesn't seem likely.... Anyway, that's what it looks like.”

"I helped it a little.”

She scowled at him. "Not possible.”

His gaze held hers steadily. "You have a lot to learn about what's possible." He studied her face for a moment. "You have very pretty eyes. They can't decide if they're brown or green.”

She blinked and fought the urge to lower her gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Thanks.”

He held her wrist for another heartbeat, and then released her.

She pulled away from him and put on the necklace. "I suppose I'm meant to stay here for some length of time?”

"I suppose you are.”

"I'm going to need things if I'm going to be a prisoner. I have no clothing, other than that what your.. .friends may have left, and they, apparently, weren't human judging by their insignificant size. I need proper soap for my face, non-male-smelling shampoo ... and, goddamn it, I need fresh underwear!" she finished grouchily.

He walked to the desk, got out a pen and pad of paper, and handed them to her. "Make a list. I'll get whatever you need.”

She took the pen and paper, raising her eyebrows at him. "You're not going through my underwear drawer—”

"Just make the list.”

She sat on the edge of the bed and made out the list while Jack finished dressing, then handed it to him.

"I swear I won't go through your underwear drawer," he said. "Now, are you hungry? I made breakfast.”

She mumbled "yes" and followed her nose to the kitchen. Mira hadn't gotten a good look at the rest of the apartment the day before since she'd been unconscious the first time she'd gone through it and fleeing for her life the second time.

It was decorated much like the bedroom—expensively. The floors were polished wood and area rugs lay in front of the couch and in the foyer. A matching runner lined the hallway. Most of the heavy furniture was also wood. Modern artwork hung on the walls and sculptures stood on tables.