Page 70 of Ghost Hunted

“I’m not leaving, but you are.” He glares at me. “I won’t have my best friend killed by some girl…”

“She’s not some girl,” I lash out, “and what will kill me is if I have to leave her again.”

“You’re right, she’s not some girl. She’s a drugged-up Frankenstein creature, and you need to get far away from her. Remember your daughter? Piper’s back in Oregon, waiting for you. Her psychopath boyfriend is pissed off, but he’ll let it go as long as Lia’s no longer in the picture. Don’t lose Piper to some illusion, Logan. Doesn’t she mean anything to you?”

I pause, because if there’s any argument that could possibly work, it’s that one.

But it’s just too hard. “I can’t lose either of them,” I say at last. “Don’t ask me to make an impossible choice. I need to find some way to trace Lia. I can’t…”

“Fine,” he sighs. “I guess, if it really means that much to you, you can stick around with me.”

“That’s the worst possible choice,” I grumble, “staying with you.”

“Right back at you.” He grins. “I have some business in Paris, so I’ll be here a while. I’ll allow you to stay with me if you behave. I’m going to have to hire a team of bodyguards, though, to keep you out of trouble.”

I roll my eyes, before answering seriously, “I can’t stay here in Paris. I need to go back to Ireland to hunt her.”

“It’s a good thing I’m your friend, or you’d never find her. She’s not in Ireland; she’s right here in Paris. Which is why I’m pissed as fuck our jet had to get its right engine replaced, and Everest is a hopeless idiot who couldn’t get you a flight until tonight. So I guess I have to cancel that shit, if you’re sure.” He looks at me quizzically, but I ignore everything he’s said but the first part.

“She’s in Paris? How do you know?”

He grins again. “Well, turns out, it’s not all that easy to hide with a bazooka.”

I try to sit up, but pain keeps me helpless. “Someone saw her? Where is she? I need to go get her...”

“Easy now,” he says, patting my knee. “One of my guys spotted her. I don’t know where she’s hiding out now, but I’m sure we’ll hear about it if she steps out with that monstrous thing again.”

“I need to get up,” I say again, wincing.

“Logan.” Seraphina walks in timidly, holding a glass of water. “How are you?”

“He’s fine. Come here, pet.” Damien pulls Seraphina down on his lap, upsetting the glass of water in the process, and kisses her.

I have to look away, the lump in my throat making my eyes burn.

It’s not fair.

I know he hasn’t had an easy time with her, but it’s nothing compared to the way I’ve suffered. And while I’ve always supported their relationship—after those first few months when I wasn’t sure I could trust her—now, it makes my own pain pretty fucking unbearable.

I try to hide that, though, because I realize how selfish it makes me.

“Are you guys hungry?” asks Seraphina in her usual quiet voice. “I can make something.”

“I’d trust you with a bazooka before I trusted you with a skillet,” teases Damien, cuddling her to him. “It’s fine, I’ll get us takeout. Do people eat anything in this godforsaken place other than frog legs and snails?”

“Don’t be ignorant, Damien. Paris has the best fine dining in—”

“Okay, fine. I’ll get pizza.”

He orders on his phone then throws it aside. “I have a very interesting day planned for tomorrow,” he says, playing with a strand of Seraphina’s hair.

“Oh yeah? Where are we going?” I ask, wincing as I try once more to struggle into a sitting position. This time, I manage it.

“Not we. Me.”

“Fuck you. I’m not spending my time in bed. I need to look for her, and you need to help me.”

“We’ll see.” He yawns. “But what about Seraphina?” He kisses her cheek, and she lets her head fall against his chest.