Emma was grateful to be out of the penthouse. The night before had been the longest of her life, each minute crawling across her nerves. She tried to convince herself there was nothing to worry about. She tried to convince herself Jesse would walk through the door any second, smiling apologetically and explaining he’d found a lead, or a book, or the demon itself. But he never came home.
He never came home. And Gideon didn’t have to tell her what he was thinking, because Emma had her own fears entwining themselves around her until she thought she would suffocate. This hadn’t been the first time she waited in vain for somebody she loved. The night Lizzie disappeared, and the following days, had been a nightmare Emma never wanted to relive. Somehow, the waiting, the goddamned waiting, had be
