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Chapter 12

Gael turned off the freeway and toward what almost looked like a ghost town. Stratholm wasn’t a fancy district by any means, but Archie wouldn’t voluntarily go here. It was where the ghost hand wanted him to go, though.

“You don’t feel it?”

Archie blinked a couple of times, his eyes gritty from lack of sleep and his heart thundering at the thought of leaving the car. “Feel what?”

Gael frowned. “A pull, a desire to please me?”

Archie looked at him, his flawless skin, beautiful lips, and the dark eyes. He wouldn’t have minded seeing him panting and sweaty, eyes shining with lust—irrational thinking. Archie never got into bed with strangers, and few stayed long enough to get to know him.

He guessed he was a bit much to be around, and few were willing to chain themselves to a sinking ship—other than Edie, but as an immortal, she had time on her side. One day he would die and she would get on with her life. “You don’t have to worry about me throwing myself at you.”