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Yeah, I kind of do, don’t I. And strike the kind of.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He closes his eyes. And that’s when Jane materializes right next to me.

Jane is only a little different as a ghost than she was as a human. She takes up space the same and sounds the same and looks the same . . . and as she gives me a hug, she feels as warm and solid to me as she did before what happened to her happened.

“Baby . . .” V drawls from the bed.

Damn, that’s an erotic sound.

Jane looks into the bedroom, and the smile that lights her up is breathtaking. Jane’s not supergorgeous. But she’s got an intelligent-looking face to match her enormous brain, and as I like smart people, I really like her.

“Hey, pup,” she says to Vishous.

V smiles at Jane. Have I mentioned that before? When he sees her, he truly smiles. With everybody else he just smirks. If he feels like it.

“Heard you’re hurt,” Jane says, putting her hands on her hips. She’s wearing a white doctor’s coat and has a stethoscope around her neck, both of which are solid to the eye. The rest of her is a little hazy, unless she wants to pick something up or hug someone, in which case she becomes fully present.

“I’m fine,” he shoots back.

“He’s hurt,” Butch and I say at the same time. V glares at me. Then soothes the cop by running his hand down the male’s spine.

“Meet me in our room when you’re finished,” Jane says to her hellren. “I’m going to check you out.”

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” V replies on a husky purr.

I follow Jane down the hall because it’s starting to feel a little voyeuristic staring at V and Butch together. (I’d like to put in here, by the way, that Jane isn’t bothered at all by how close the two males are, and neither is Marissa. Which shows you how secure those two females are. How secure and how well loved.)

“So Safe Place is really coming along,” Jane says as we go into the book-filled bedroom she shares with her male. The place could be a library if not for the kingsizer in the center, and the two of them are happy with it that way. They are both big readers.

“Yeah, I’ve heard.” I pick up the title on the bureau. It’s a biochemistry textbook. Grad school level. Could be either of theirs. “You have how many females now?”

“Nine mothers, fifteen children.”

Jane starts to talk, and her enthusiasm and commitment are obvious in her animation. I let her go on, but I’m only half listening. I’m thinking back to a conversation she and I had about three months ago, in June.

It was about death. Hers. I asked her whether she was disappointed with where she’d ended up. As a ghost. Her answering smile held a lot of well-duh in it, and she said to me something I haven’t been able to get out of my mind since: “Forty years as a human versus four hundred with him?” she’d murmured, shaking her head. “Yeah, I have a real hard time doing that math. Right. I mean, the tragedy gave me life with the man I love. Where’s the disappointment?”

I guess I can see her point. Yes, there are some things they don’t have. But Jane was very well into her thirties when the two of them met. Which means she’d have been lucky to get another two to three decades with him before the aging process really sank its teeth into her. And that’s assuming she didn’t get cancer or heart disease or something else god-awful that either killed her or crippled her. Also, she’s already lost her sister and both her parents and, jeez . . . countless trauma patients. After all the death she’s seen, I think it’s kind of nice that she gets a pass on that from now on. And she doesn’t have to worry about V’s dance with the Reaper. She can go back and forth to the Fade. They will always be together. Always.

So she’s living eternity. With the male she loves. Not a bad deal.

Plus . . . erhm, from what I understand the sex is still out of this world.

“Off with your clothes,” she says.

I look down at the black outfit I have on and wonder if I spilled anything on myself. But no, it’s Vishous. He’s finished with Butch.

I get out of his way