The dream swirled into my head before I understood that I had fallen asleep waiting on Linus.

He has a new girlfriend. His third one this week. Just as mundane as all the rest.

Why not me? Why won’t he ask me? I would say yes. He knows I would say yes. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I should play hard to get. Maybe then he would see we were meant to…

The carpet squishes under my feet, and cold slime seeps between my toes. I shiver, confused, my anger at Boaz forgotten. The smell hits me then, copper and rose water and thyme.

Maud.

I collapse to my knees beside her and scoop the icy blood back into the gaping hole in her chest.

“Maud?”

The sobs start, and I can’t stop them. I’m working as fast as I can, but her heart—her heart—it’s missing.

“Wake up. Please wake up. Please, Maud. Wake up. Please.”

Shivers dapple my arms, and my teeth chatter, but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters if she won’t open her eyes. I’ll be alone again. All alone. Maud is all I have, and she’s…

She’s gone.

She’s dead.

Dead.

Using her blood for my ink, I start drawing a sigil, one I’ve never seen in any textbooks.

“No, Grier,” a voice pleads behind me. “Stop before it’s too late.”

“I’m not losing her too. I won’t.” I keep going, slipping and sliding, covering her head to toe in the foreign sigils. “Come on, Maud. Try. For me.”

“You have to let her go.” Footsteps pound closer. “You don’t want her back. Not like this.”

“You’re wrong.” I scream so loud my voice shreds to ribbons. “I want her back any way I can get her.”

“You don’t mean that. Please, Grier. Think.”

Snot clogs my throat as I close the sigil with a defiant swoop of my finger.

Magic explodes into the room, knocks me backward, and my head cracks against a wall.

“Grier.”

Darkness swirls around me, and I embrace it, grateful when it blinds me to the corpse at my feet.

Cold seeped into my bones, frigid as the grave, and I turned away from the source, still half-asleep.

“I’m here,” Linus murmured from some great distance. “Sleep.”

I sank deeper into the blackness, and this time I dreamed of nothing at all.

I woke with shooting pain in my tailbone. I was ready for a spine-ectomy. Mine was faulty. It hurt all the time. I’m sure sleeping upright on floors and getting knocked on my butt daily had nothing to do with it.

“You’re awake.”

Eyes still heavy with sleep, I mumbled, “I am?”

“Your stomach is growling.”

“I swallowed a tiger.”

Linus laughed, really laughed, and the sound was so bright I had to open my eyes to see for myself.

“Breakfast is ready whenever you are,” he said, and he handed me a chill tumbler that smelled like herbs and copper, like him, like fresh-cut mint rubbed between a thumb and finger and the tang of old pennies. I sipped, and my appetite dialed down from a roar to a purr. “Do you want to eat first or shower?”

“I’ll shower.” Setting the smoothie aside, I groped behind me, intending to push myself upright using the vee made by the corner where I slept, but there was only one wall supporting my back. “What in the…?”

“You slept in the hall outside my room,” Linus explained, rescuing my aperitif before I knocked it over with my flailing. “I found you when I got home.”

“I must have fallen asleep in your bed.” Slumping down, I rubbed my eyes. “Sorry about that.”

“I don’t mind.” He shifted to his left, but I saw the chair he had positioned into the doorway of his room. A new sketchbook rested on two hefty tomes under it, and a jar full of colored pencils topped it off like a cherry on a sundae. “I wasn’t sure if you walked here from your room.” His gaze tagged the landing. “I worried you might fall down the stairs if you got turned around, so I kept watch.”

Embarrassment propelled me to my feet. “Please tell me you didn’t draw me.”

Linus blocked the doorway to guard his prize. “How could I resist?”

“Show me.” I held out my hand. “I want to see.”

“Are you sure?”

Not really. “Yes.”

“Promise me you won’t destroy it.” He scanned my face. “I’m partial to the subject matter.”

“Fine,” I grumbled, crossing my toes. “I won’t destroy it.”

Poor, trusting Linus retrieved his sketchbook, lifted the cover, and spun it on his palm. I was about to make a liar out of myself when I saw what he had drawn. Me. Asleep. Curled up in his blanket outside his door like a baby bird kicked out of her nest. I looked…peaceful. Content. Safe. Clearly, he had taken liberal artistic license.

“Well?” He nudged my foot with the tip of his shoe, proving he knew me too well. “What do you think?”

“I’m not sure who the model is, but it’s a lovely piece.” I traced the dark strands of hair fanned across the hardwood. “You’re a talented artist.”

“Your dreams aren’t all nightmare,” he told me. “The worst comes before dusk.”

“That sounds about right.” I passed the drawing back to him. “The nightmare feels longer, though.”

“Nightmares always do.”

An unsettling quiet filled the space between us, and the light dimmed in his expression.

Out of time for make believe, I gathered my nerve. “What did you find?”

“Boaz was right. The house is empty. There’s no furniture, no art on the walls, no pots in the kitchen, no clothes in the closet.” He flattened his lips into a hard line. “There’s no trace of Odette, and no sign she plans on returning.”

“I don’t understand.” A childlike whine threaded my voice. “I spoke to her last week. She told me she was going to visit a client. She wouldn’t have just left. Not without telling me. Something must have happened to her.”

“There were no signs of a struggle.”

“I want to see for myself.” I touched his arm. “It’s not that I don’t trust you…”

“I understand.” His hand settled over mine. “I’ve already informed Hood we’ll be driving out to Tybee.”

“I’ll go change.” I slipped past him. “We can deal with Corbin when we get back.”

Tiny brackets framed his mouth, but he let me go and went to ready his things.

Woolly, the little eavesdropper, informed me Corbin was sleeping in with a flash of insight through our bond. He was probably exhausted from his escape and the drive here. Good. He could catch eighty winks as far as I was concerned. Odette was family, and family trumped progeny in this case.

After I pulled on jeans, sneakers, and a clean tee, I braided my hair and slung my backpack across my shoulders.

Linus met me on the stairs, and we walked down together.

Hood and Lethe waited for us in the living room. She was snacking her way through a bowl of popcorn, but she stopped cramming her face long enough to smile at me. Hood stole a piece, and she growled at him. He tweaked her nose, finding her adorable, and Lethe snapped at his fingers. Before they progressed to full-on love bites, I clapped my hands to get their attention.

“Lethe, can you stay here and watch Corbin? He’s still asleep, but he’ll wake up hungry.”

“There’s more blood in the fridge,” Linus added before a smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “From all the donors Grier rejected. Corbin might as well drink up. She won’t touch it.”

“You’re lucky I don’t have one of those juice box straws with a tapered end.” I mimed piercing his carotid artery. “Otherwise, I would so stab you right now.”

The man was far too pleased with himself for being tasty. But I wasn’t much better, snarling over my preferred vintage when vampires got too close to him, so I had no room to talk.

“Sure thing.” She stomped Hood’s instep on her way past him to the couch. “I’m always left behind. Why would tonight be any different?”

Glancing between them, I had to wonder if I hadn’t walked in on a fight larger than food. Granted, not much ranked higher than grub with Lethe, but she wasn’t usually this violent over non-meat snacks.

Hood tossed the van keys in the air. “Do you want to drive them?”

“No.” She shoveled a handful in her mouth, giving her chipmunk cheeks. “That’s your job.”

“I’m staying with the vampire.” Hood folded his arms across his broad chest. “You go with Grier.”

“I won’t, and you can’t make me.” She reached for the remote, smearing butter all over the buttons. I bet Linus—my little neat freak—was dying inside, but he kept his agony to himself. He could always wipe it clean later, when there wasn’t a cranky gwyllgi guarding it. “I’m going to sit here, stuff my face, and veg out while this parasite bloats me.”

Parasite? That was a new one.

“You okay?” I inched closer. “You’re more bite than bark tonight.”

“I’m fine,” she snarled at me. “Back. Off.”

I took her suggestion literally. Gwyllgi reflexes put necromancers to shame. “This is me, backing off.”

When Linus took my elbow, I didn’t fight him as he led me outside and away from Lethe. Hood followed, but he kept glancing behind him to where Lethe was eviscerating her snack with brutal chomps.

“I’m not going to suggest it’s hormones,” I told him, “but I would like to know what’s up with her.”

“She got challenged for her position as second in the Atlanta pack.” He scoffed. “Via text message.”

“The cowards waited until she was pregnant and out of town to hit her with this? Even then, they didn’t have the courage to do it to her face?” I curled my fingers into fists at my sides. “Can she fight in her condition?”

Blanching, Hood checked to see if she’d heard, then exhaled with relief when she continued ignoring us.

“Never imply she’s not fit to defend her rank. She’ll kill you for the insult to her pride.” Pinching my arm in a viselike grip, he hauled me stumbling to the gate. “Though she would feel bad about it later.”

“Oh, well, that makes it hunky-dory,” I whisper-screamed. “I’m warning you now that if she eats me, I’ll give her indigestion for the rest of her life. Your children and great-grandchildren will rue the day she gobbled me like a Thanksgiving turkey.”

“Slow down, drumstick.” Hood chuckled. “Thanksgiving is a human holiday.”

“No, it’s a major food holiday,” Linus reminded him. “Grier celebrates all those.”

“There’s no law against a necromancer celebrating Turkey Day,” I pointed out, and they both laughed.

Being raised with a foot in each world, the way I and most Low Society necromancers were, was an invitation to adopt the human holidays that suited us. For me, that involved most all of them. Any excuse to eat was a good reason to celebrate in my book.

“She has her priorities straight,” Hood said, amused. “You’re definitely pack with that bottomless pit you call a stomach. You’re practically gwyllgi.”

“I choose to view that as a compliment.” I passed through the gate. “Let’s go to Tybee.”

On the way, I used an app to order Lethe five burgers, five fries, and five chocolate shakes with whipped cream and cherries.

With any luck, the extra calories ought to make her easier to live with until her inner beast settled again.

From the mint-green siding to the peppermint-pink shutters, from the white trim accenting the eaves to the clear plastic sealing the windows to keep it cool, Odette’s bungalow on Tybee Island had always reminded me of hard candy still in the wrapper.

Hood parked in the sandy driveway, and I approached the front door. I knocked, waited. No one answered. I knocked again, waited longer. Still no response. I gave it a go for a third time, but the results were the same.

Odette wasn’t here. No surprise there. I was only prolonging the inevitable.

“The door was unlocked when I was here earlier,” Linus offered. “I didn’t lock it after I left.”

Gathering up my nerve, I tested the knob. As Linus said, it spun without resistance. I pushed in, and the sight punched me in the gut.

The bone-white couch, the driftwood coffee table, the local art hung here and there. All gone.

When I breathed in the air, it tasted stale. Old. Faded. The perfume of her incense was a whispered suggestion.

A loud sneeze blasted from Hood as he entered the living room. He glanced up at me through red-rimmed eyes and sneezed again. Water poured down his cheeks, and snot dripped from his nose.

He looked like someone had hosed him with pepper spray.

“What’s wrong?” I gripped his arm when he swayed. “Hood?”

“Get him outside.” Linus took his other side. “He needs fresh air.”

Thankfully, Hood walked out under his own power. He allowed me to navigate since his puffy eyes were swelling closed. With his sinuses blocked, he was nose-blind too. Depending on me was a huge show of faith for a predator, and I firmed my grip on him, determined to be worthy of his trust.

“The house…” he panted, “…has been…dusted with powdered…bronze.”

“They expected a gwyllgi.” I helped Linus ease Hood down onto the sand. “Don’t move.”

Hood wrapped his palm around my ankle. “Where are you going?”

“To the van.” I rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to get some water out of the fridge so we can flush out your eyes.”

“Stay with him.” Linus cut me a look over Hood’s head. “I’ll fetch the water.”

I mouthed Thank you then knelt beside Hood. With his senses impaired, he was bristling for a fight. As someone he had sworn to protect, that he claimed as pack, he was fighting instincts that must be howling at him to act to keep me safe even though he was the one who had been attacked.

“Do you want me to call Lethe?” I let him keep his grip on my leg. “Do you need a healer?”

“Yes.” He coughed, his breath whistling through his abused lungs. “Both.” His eyes, red-rimmed and puffy, focused on me. “Tell her what happened, but don’t let her get near me until I’m clean.”

Linus returned with a few bottles in hand and passed them to me. “What can I do?”

“Call Lethe.” I cracked open the first lid. “He’s going to need medical attention prior to her arrival.”

“Hopefully,” Linus said, dialing as he walked away, “she’ll take this news better with a full stomach.”

“I’m going to pour this water over your face,” I told Hood. “Hands down. Don’t touch your eyes.”

A growl pumped through his chest, his hand tightening on my ankle, but he held still.

“One bottle down, three more to go.” I watched Linus out of the corner of my eye. “Almost done.”

“We need to sterilize him before he gets around Lethe,” Linus said, rejoining us, “or in the van.”

“I didn’t even think about contamination.” I looked at him. “We’ve been exposed too.”

The van cost too much to risk its functionality. That left us with two options. Neither were great.

“Open your eyes.” I finished with Hood and collected the bottles. “Better?”

“Before it felt like someone had blowtorched my eyeballs.”

“And now?” I prompted him.

“More like someone sandpapered them.”

“Sounds like progress to me.” I passed the empties to Linus, who walked the trash over to the bulky can waiting at the curb for pickup. “Just sit tight, and we’ll figure this out.”

Linus crossed back while pressing buttons on his phone, and I got a bad feeling about his plan of action. Not that I had a better one.

“I called Mother’s driver. The Lyceum is sending someone for Hood. They’ll take him to the Elite barracks on Habersham Street, stick him under a shower, then arrange for a ride to Woolworth House in a different vehicle.” Linus pocketed his phone. “The driver will take Hood to the healer then pick up Lethe and drop her off there.”

“That takes care of them.” I got to my feet and helped Hood to his. “What about us?”

“I made arrangements” was all he said, but he didn’t seem happy about them. That all but guaranteed I wouldn’t be either.

“You searched the house earlier.” I aimed the comment at Linus. “Why didn’t the bronze dust affect Hood when he met us at Woolly?”

“I sent Cletus in to scout,” Linus admitted. “After I tested the door and found it unlocked, I thought it best to leave the house undisturbed. There weren’t enough shadows for a lengthy reconnaissance, since wraiths can’t manifest in daylight, but I did the best I could under the circumstances.”

The force of his meaning struck me, that he was preserving evidence, and I almost wished I had left well enough alone.

This really was a crime scene now, but not for the reason I first imagined. Dusting the house with powdered bronze had been a deliberate act of malice.

“Lethe might have miscarried if she’d breathed in enough of that poison,” Hood said, his voice scratchy.

Thank the goddess for small mercies. Lethe was safe inside Woolly and not mired in the sand with her mate.

“Odette didn’t leave of her own free will.” The confirmation rocked me. “She was taken.”

“You said she was visiting a client.” Linus lifted his head. “Do you have any idea who?”

“Confidentiality agreements tied her hands.” I had no clue who used her, and her clients banked on that anonymity. “All she told me was she made allowances for him that she wouldn’t for anyone else. It made me think they must have become friends over the years. She did say he was one of her first and still one of her best clients.”

“One of her first,” he said, sounding thoughtful. “That might help us narrow the scope of possibilities.”

A sleek car painted the exact shade of wet blood pulled into the driveway, and a man in a suit stepped out wearing the blank expression of someone who did as his employer required without asking questions. He got within several feet of us before Hood caught his scent and started growling.

“It’s your ride,” I murmured, soothing his overprotective instincts. “No worries.”

His grumble implied he wasn’t thrilled to be crammed into a car with a stranger but would cooperate.

“We got this,” I called to the driver. “Can you open the door?”

“Yes, Dame Woolworth.”

With help from Linus, I wedged my shoulder under Hood’s armpit, and we lifted him together.

“Do you want me to ride with you?” A cold sweat broke along my skin. “You don’t have to go alone.”

“I can’t afford to show more weakness,” he panted. “Not after the challenge to Lethe. The pack will have eyes everywhere, and I can’t let them see me like this.”

“We’ll send Cletus with you.” I made it an order. “He’s inconspicuous.”

A weak growl rattled up the back of his throat, but he didn’t press the issue as we stuffed him in.

“Cletus.” I waited for him to join us. “Can you escort Hood on his errands?”

The wraith fluttered overhead, his attention fixed on the bungalow.

“What is it?” I touched the wispy edge of his tattered cloak. “What do you see?”

Unable to voice an answer, he drifted lower, until he stared at me from his empty hood and extended a bony arm toward me. I reached out, and he dropped a white ark shell on my palm.

“Ah, thanks.” I turned it over in my hand. “Linus, any idea what this means?”

The bleached shell could fit on my fingertip, and it was perfect except for a tiny dot near the hinge made when a moon snail drilled a hole through the shell with the sharp teeth on its tonguelike radula.

A frown knitted his brow. “He’s not projecting to me.”

That probably wasn’t a great sign, but there was nothing to be done about it right this second.

Having given me his gift, the wraith took position over the car, ready to do his duty.

The driver gave us a polite nod then pulled away.

Once they were out of sight, I got antsy about this latest kink in Cletus’s wiring.

“Can you pick up on Cletus now?” I searched Linus’s face. “Can you see Hood?”

Black swallowed his eyes as he stared down the single lane. “Yes.”

Before I could summon relief, a familiar van streaked with dirt and finger-written obscenities rolled up to the curb. The window lowered to reveal our old pal Tony, dressed in a stained tee and pajama bottoms, who toasted us with the last swallow of his energy drink.

“It’s been a while.” He tossed the can onto the growing pile in the front passenger floorboard. “You two go on vacation or something?”

“Bermuda.” I smiled brightly. “The triangle is awesome this time of year.”

Tony stroked the few scraggly hairs protruding from his chin. “Where are you headed?”

“Johnson Square.” Linus held the door for me then joined me on the bench seat. “Near the Nathanael Greene Monument.”

I shot him a look, but he wore the mask of Scion Lawson, and there was no prying up the edges for a peek underneath while in mixed company.

We rode in silence, minus the boisterous slurps from the front scent as another energy drink met its untimely death.

Ah, the fragrant scents of pepperoni, unwashed feet, and armpit funk.

I must be feeling nostalgic.

My eyes were certainly watering.

Linus slipped Tony his requisite fifty-dollar bill when the van slowed, and he had a grip on the handle before it came to a full stop. He got out, helped me onto the sidewalk, and we left our former driver before he finished swallowing.

After a few laps around the monument, I got curious about our destination. “Feel like going for a walk?”

“I wanted to make sure he was forced back into traffic. I don’t want him to see where we go next.”

I wanted to see where we went next. “Do you think the Marchands are still bankrolling him?”

“No.” He sounded certain of the fact. “Heloise is the one who struck the bargain. Eloise cut ties with him after he demanded payment for services rendered. She knew we were aware of his betrayal and that he was compromised. He is no longer of any use to her. She squared her sister’s account with him after using the app to book a ride across town, but she told him not to bother contacting her again.”

A coil of Spanish moss hit my shoe, and I scanned the old oaks overhead until I spotted the chittering squirrel responsible. “How do you know all this?”

“I planted a bug the last time we rode in his van.” Linus made no apologies for that fact. “My team has been monitoring him for weeks. The transmissions cut out a few days ago. We had the confirmation we needed, but I prefer to keep tabs on my enemies.”

Setting aside the fact he was playing spymaster, I wondered, “What happened to the original bug?”

“Filth.” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and unfolded the halves to expose a tiny device staining the fabric brownish-red. “He must have tossed a can or container in the back that jarred it loose. Some combination of pizza sauce and energy drink fried its circuits.” He rewrapped it and tucked it into his pocket. “I was more careful with placement this time, and the casing is waterproof.”

“Boys and their toys.” I bumped shoulders with him. “You’re kinda cute when you go all James Bond.”

“I didn’t tell you.” The curtain of his dark-auburn hair swung forward, hiding his expression. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not going to shake a finger at you and call you a liar if you forget to clue me in every now and then. You’re used to working alone, making your own decisions, and acting on them.” Easing my fingers through the silky length, I tucked a few strands behind his ear. “Don’t hold back with me about us, and I’m good.”

The way he palmed his nape and rubbed like he had narrowly avoided stretching his neck over the executioner’s block broke my heart. “It’s hard for me, letting you in.”

“I know.” I took his hand. “It’s not exactly easy for me, either.” I laced our fingers. “We’ll figure it out.”

“I have something to show you.” He searched the street one last time. “Promise you’ll let me explain before the screaming and hitting starts.” He ducked his head. “It’s not a gift, really.”

“Oh, goddess.” Dollar signs flashed in my mind’s eye. Linus might be getting better about showing his affection rather than buying it, but if he was warning me, he must have spent big. “This is going nowhere good.”

“Will you come with me?” His hesitation was priceless. “It’s not far.”

“I might as well.” I bit back a laugh. “I’m curious what’s put that look on your face.”

The last time he looked this particular combination of anxious and excited, he gave me Eileen.

We crossed left onto East Congress Street then took a right on Abercorn Street. On the corner of Abercorn and East Park Avenue sat a two-story house turned business with faded blue clapboard siding that had seen better days. A realtor’s sign stapled to the power pole out front read SOLD in red letters.

The bottom fell out of my stomach. “Tell me you didn’t buy that house.”

“I did.”

“You said it’s not a gift.”

“It’s not.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Technically,” he amended, “it’s not for you.”

“Then technically, who is it for?”

“Me.”

“You bought a house in Savannah?” I frowned at the eyesore. “That house?”

The address promised he had paid at least a half million dollars for the location, but the house itself was in sad condition. Only a significant cash infusion could save it, and love. Lots of love.

The keys jingled when he removed them from his pocket and unlocked the front door.

“The downstairs was originally an art gallery, but it’s been remodeled and reimagined several times over the years.” He glanced back at me. “Upstairs is a fully renovated two-bedroom, one-bath living area.”

“Are you…?” I stepped back, almost into the street. “Are you moving out?”

Our living arrangement had nothing to do with our relationship. Us sharing a roof, or at least a property, was a condition his mother insisted on. There was no reason to feel rejected, but I did. Just a smidgen.

“What?” Fumbling the knob, he dropped the keys. “No. Of course not. Nothing like that.” He crossed to me and set his hands on my shoulders. “I’m doing this all wrong.”

I sucked in a breath, expecting the worst. “Spell it out for me.”

“You’ve been lost lately.”

Cutting ties with the Haints had left me adrift, true, but I had found new purpose in rededicating myself to my studies, to my past, and to my city.

No.

This city.

Savannah wasn’t mine. My home, yes. But mine? One potentate in this relationship was plenty.

“Okay,” I said, “so far I’m following you.”

“You loved being a Haint, and I thought…” His arms fell to his sides. “What would you think of starting your own ghost tour company?”

“Competing with Cricket?” The blood drained from my face. “To quit on her then open my own business feels like a betrayal.”

Linus nodded like I had stuck to his mental script. “What if you didn’t have to compete with Cricket?”

“How do you figure that’s possible? She’s cornered the market in walking tours downtown, and the Cora Ann is a huge success. What’s left that’s not in direct competition with her?”

“What if you specialized in…the truth?” He shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “You tell historically accurate stories from the human perspective. Why not tell a niche clientele what actually happened at a select few locations throughout the city?”

As much as the scope of the project overwhelmed me, I couldn’t deny the flutters in my belly.

“The Society would have a cow.” The reality of presenting the idea for his mother’s approval left me cold. “They would never let me share necromantic history with the masses.”

“Not the masses,” he corrected. “Vampires, necromancers, witches, gwyllgi, wargs, and whoever else is willing to pay twenty-five dollars for a two-hour walking tour led by none other than Dame Woolworth herself.”

I didn’t notice I was wiggling in a happy dance until he started laughing under his breath.

“Incoming,” I shouted and flung myself at him. “I cannot believe you did this for me.”

Linus caught me, a hint of his tattered cloak exploding from his back as his eyes shot wide. “Oomph.”

Arms cinched around his neck, I screamed, “Early-warning system activate.”

“It’s too late to activate.” He laughed. “You already launched.”

Raining kisses over his face, I hung on tight, climbing him like kudzu until he wore me like an apron.

“What am I going to call it? Oooh. What about a theme?” I chewed my bottom lip. “Not Southern belle, but a costume. Something to set us apart. Too copycat? Allowable? What do you think?”

Face buried in my neck, he murmured, “I love…your enthusiasm.”

Lips pressed against his throat, I murmured back, “I love…your thoughtfulness.”

“Let’s go shower.”

“Are you serious?” I fluttered my lashes. “Do you think buying me a building is all it takes to get me naked?”

Linus flushed so hot, so fast, he turned purple beneath his freckles. “That’s not why I—”

“You think I don’t know that?” I cupped his face between my palms. “I’m teasing.”

“There’s something I need to confess.” He covered my hands with his. “I…”

The warmth fled his expression, black swallowing his eyes as he zoned out on me.

“Cletus checking in?” I released him and shimmied down his body to my feet, not expecting an answer.

“Hood has showered and changed. All traces of bronze powder have been erased. He’s with the second driver, in a clean vehicle, and they’ve picked up Lethe.”

A buzz in my back pocket caught my attention, and I whipped out my phone. “Crap.”

Linus came back to awareness. “What’s wrong?”

“Lethe shot me a text to remind me since she’s gone, Woolly and Oscar are babysitting Corbin alone.”

That meant no more teasing Linus and no more grand tour. We had to get home.

“We can use the upstairs shower and change clothes to decontaminate ourselves. You can go first.” He led the way into the building, through the cavernous downstairs with poured concrete floors that echoed with our footsteps, and up the black metal stairs near the back. A few steps past the landing, he indicated a small bathroom with clean towels stacked on the lip of the sink. A few still had price stickers. “There’s a shop a few buildings down. I’ll procure us clothing and then work on transportation.”

“Should you do that before you shower? Won’t you just transfer the powder?”

Replaying it in my head, it sounded like I was offering to let him join me, and he must have thought so too if the tips of his ears reddening were any indication.

“I’ll give them our sizes and have someone else bag my selections. That ought to minimize any cross contamination.”

I trailed my fingers over the terrycloth. “Did you stock the place yourself?”

His gaze touched on the shampoo and soap in the shower, both his favorite brands. “I did.”

“Hmm.”

He followed me one step into the room. “What does that mean?”

“You expected to shower here?” I noticed the other things then. Toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant.

“Work,” he said, and his eyes went distant. “Some nights I wash it off before I go home.”

“Even in Savannah?” Lately, we tromped home together, dirty or otherwise.

“Especially in Savannah,” he said, voice soft as he left.

The reminder that secrets lingered between us shouldn’t have stung as much as it did, but there you go.

I got naked, eager to drown the carousel of thoughts circling through my head under the shower.

Having full control of the water was odd. The lack of running commentary was peculiar too. I didn’t like it much. I was too used to having Woolly in my head, her presence a vibrant spark that brightened my days. This building felt like a brick-encased corpse by comparison.

After I scrubbed until my skin turned pink, I emerged from the shower smelling like Linus. No complaints there. I dried off then wrapped the largest towel around my torso to keep me modest while I scrubbed the contents of my pockets clean of bronze powder then went exploring.

The upstairs apartment was all pine heart floors and elegant period details, lovingly restored. Whoever had lived here sank a substantial amount of time and money into renovating the living area. Too bad the economy couldn’t support many boutiques or galleries long term, even if their unique offerings charmed the tourists. I hated imagining the previous owner sacrificing this labor of love to salvage their finances.

The first bedroom, the larger of the two, caught my eye. Well, the king-size bedframe made from twisted wrought iron did. Foam wrapped the elegant posts, and a plush mattress still in its plastic sleeve leaned against the wall. Sheets in their zippered bags and pillows stuffed in boxes filled the far corner.

The prickling awareness I was being watched brought a smile to my lips, but when I turned, I was alone.

“Bathing here I get,” I called, figuring Linus must be in the hall. “But do you really need a bed?”

No response.

“Linus?”

No answer.

Proving I could learn, I didn’t investigate. I darted for the bathroom and the knife I had left to dry on the sink after its cleaning.

Quiet pervaded the space, and I almost convinced myself the noise had been the unfamiliar building settling around me, but a sixth sense warned me I wasn’t alone. I didn’t waste time wondering. I sliced open my index finger and drew protective runes down my arm then set myself in a protective circle.

A soft chuckle echoed up to me from the stairwell, and then the heavy presence retreated.

I counted the seconds by the pounding of my heart until I heard the front door click shut.

Clutching my towel, I lowered the seat on the toilet and sat down to wait on Linus.