“Sashi?” Jesse asked.

The woman turned, blinked, and said, “Oh my. You must be Jesse.”

“Yeah.” Over her shoulder, Jesse smiled at the nurse. “This is Noah’s girlfriend. She’s also a . . .”

“A physician’s assistant,” Sashi filled in, showing the nurse some sort of laminated credentials. “In Las Vegas.”

“Yes,” Jesse said. “Right.”

The nurse looked a little skeptical, but Jesse gave her his best smile. “Would it be okay if we let her in to see Noah?”

He led her back down the hall to Noah’s room, and said under his breath, “Thank you for coming. Scarlett wasn’t sure you’d even get her message.”

“Yes, well, Scarlett sounded very upset on the phone, so I caught the ten o’clock flight. I tried to call her when I landed, but her mobile went straight to voice mail.”

They’d reached the right door, but Sashi stopped short. “Give me a quick rundown of his injuries,” she instructed.

“I don’t remember all the medical terms, but his left ankle is broken, he has a massive concussion, and his brain is swelling. Lots of bruising. They’ve already done surgery to fix internal bleeding and removed a chunk of his skull to help with the swelling. He’s in an induced coma.”

She took it all in for a moment, nodding. “Is the ankle a compound fracture?”

“No, just a simple break.”

“Right. When I speak to his body, I’ll focus on the brain and internal injuries. Those are the most life-threatening. The ankle should heal itself in time, and it will look too suspicious if the bone suddenly knits back together.”

Jesse was a little thrown by “when I speak to his body,” but he just said, “Whatever you need; whatever you want.”

She nodded, checked whether anyone was coming down the hall, and unbelted her trench coat. Underneath, she was wearing a conservative gray dress and a white lab coat. Anyone passing by would just see another doctor in a busy hospital. Jesse was impressed, but then, this was what she did. “I need time with him. An hour would be best.”

“My parents are in there.”

Sashi wrinkled her nose. “That will complicate things. Can you get rid of them?”

“We’re going to have to stick to the girlfriend story.”

“Fine. What do I need to know?”

Jesse told her a few things about Noah, including where he lived and his job. “All right,” Sashi said. “We’ve been dating long distance for six months, but it’s only started to look serious in the last two. I’m a PA, and I want to check his chart myself.”

“Got it.” He held the door for her. “Let’s do this.”

Jesse made the introductions. His father took the news in stride, but Carmen was fascinated to learn about Sashi, the girlfriend Noah had never mentioned (and did not, in fact, know about). Jesse had to do some tap-dancing, but he eventually convinced his parents to go to the cafeteria with him for lunch, giving Sashi a little time alone with Noah. “But we just got here,” Carmen protested again as Jesse ushered them out. “And I have so many questions!”

He scrambled to think of something to say that would temporarily divert her attention from Noah’s condition, preferably without lying too much, and finally said, “There’s something I want to tell you about anyway. I’m seeing someone, too.”

That got Carmen to turn her head away.

As they walked back down the hall, Jesse had a sense of déjà vu and remembered he hadn’t actually checked the voice mail from Scarlett. “I’m just gonna pop into the restroom, then we’ll go get lunch,” he promised his mother.

In the single-stall bathroom, he played Scarlett’s message: “Hey, it’s me. I know you don’t want me going to Sunken City without you, but I’m out of other ideas, so I’m going to run down there. Shadow’s with me, and I’ve got my knives and bulletproof vest.” Scarlett paused, probably wondering if she needed to say something relationship-y now. She added in a softer voice, “We’re gonna be fine, Jesse.”

He cursed and called her cell. It went straight to voice mail. Jesse tried again, with the same result.

He cursed longer and louder, in Spanish and then English. Sunken City could be dangerous even if you weren’t being pursued by an evil witch clan, and she’d gone down there anyway.

Jesse debated with himself for a moment. He knew that Scarlett’s last relationship had failed partly because Eli had been controlling and overprotective: the werewolf had been so obsessed with Scarlett’s safety that he’d ignored what she actually wanted. Jesse didn’t want to make the same mistake, especially now that they were finally on the same page about dating. At the same time, she was pregnant, she was being hunted, and she was outnumbered. And, maybe most important, she hadn’t actually said she wanted to go by herself, or that she wanted him to give her space.

Jesse decided that he would take the risk of Scarlett accusing him of smothering. This was too important.

He sighed. Now he just had to figure out what to tell his mother.

Twenty minutes later, Jesse was practically flying down the 110. He’d given his parents a hasty excuse about Scarlett being in a fender bender—he’d talked about her many times—and ducked out before they could ask questions. He was definitely going to pay for that later, and Sashi might get annoyed if they went straight back to Noah’s room, especially if they saw or heard something they shouldn’t, but Sashi was a pro; she would figure something out. In his gut, Jesse was sure something was wrong.

He tried calling her again, but Scarlett still didn’t answer her phone. Next, Jesse called Abby Hayne, the woman in charge of all of Dashiell’s technological needs. Abby usually worked a pretty pedestrian Monday-to-Friday schedule, but he hoped that with the Luparii in town, Dashiell or Hayne would have put her on high alert.

Sure enough, she answered immediately. “What’s up, Jesse?”

“Abby! Can you trace Scarlett’s newest phone for me?”

There was a brief pause, and then Abby said dryly, “There’s this thing called Find My iPhone now . . .”

Jesse reminded himself that Abby was employed by Dashiell and didn’t actually owe him anything. “I know, I know, but I’m driving, and I don’t know if it’ll work with the newest phone. Please?”

She heard the urgency in his voice and said, “Okay, okay. I gotta put the phone down while I get to the computer.” Abby had cerebral palsy and usually used a wheelchair at work. A couple of minutes went by, and then she was back. “Okay, I’m tracing it now. She’s in San Pedro, right on the ocean.”

“Thank God.” Maybe he really was overreacting. Jesse would be happy to take that particular hit, though. “I’m headed down there now. I may need to have you check again, okay?”

He could practically hear her eyes rolling. “I live to serve.”

Forty minutes later, the 110 was about to dump him onto Gaffrey Street in San Pedro, about three miles north of Sunken City. He tried Scarlett first, and this time the phone rang, but she didn’t answer. Frowning, Jesse called Abby back. “Do you still have her location?”

A pause, then: “She’s headed north on Pacific.”

“Okay, good.” Pacific ran parallel to Gaffrey, one block east.

“Do you—” Abby began, but Jesse’s call-waiting beeped.

It was Scarlett. “Thanks, Abby, call you back!” he said in a rush and clicked over. “Oh my God, Scar, where are you? I’ve been—”

“Jesse . . . listen . . .”

He shut up. Her voice was all wrong: sad and resigned. She told him she loved him, and he knew, he knew something terrible was happening.

“I’m in a long black Mercedes on the corner of Seventh and Pacific—” she started to say, and then the phone call was abruptly cut off.

Fear seemed to pulse through all of Jesse’s extremities like a jolt of adrenaline. He was still on Gaffrey, but he took his eyes off the road to check the map on his phone, which was incredibly dangerous and stupid. Then he topped that by cutting across two lanes of traffic to take a screeching left onto First Avenue, speeding a block east to Pacific Avenue. He turned right and leaned forward, craning his neck, looking for a Mercedes.