Tight Spaces
I froze. Raven was halfway to the master bedroom, smoke alarm casing in one hand. He crammed the hardware into the outer pocket of his backpack, twisted the straps around one wrist, and let it drop almost to the floor. I could almost tell what he was thinking: run for the back door or double back to where I stood.
The front door hung for a split second on the threshold, just like always. It was worst after a good rain, but if someone didn’t tighten the hinges at least once every few months, the door caught ever so slightly, and the person with the key would have to lift on the outside handle and push hard. Rune grunted as it cracked the first few inches, and I silently thanked Charlie for being such an unhandy ex-boyfriend.
I stepped backward on tiptoe, disappearing into the shadows in the hall and reaching, without looking, for the knob to the linen closet door a few feet away. I glanced up at Raven and motioned for him to get inside, but he made a face.
In there? he mouthed.
I nodded so hard that my hoodie fell to my shoulders on top of my empty backpack. It’s bigger than it looks, I mouthed back.
“Just keep the car running,” Rune yelled behind her—loud enough to be heard outside in the driveway. “This won’t take but a minute.”
A minute we didn’t have.
Raven scrambled into the closet behind me. Still watching the light and shadow near the front door, I backed inside after Raven, bumping into him instantly as I almost closed the door. I held tightly to the doorknob, but we didn’t fit!
“Back up,” I whispered so low that I could barely hear my own voice.
“I can’t!” He didn’t move intentionally to whisper in my ear, but I felt his breath on my temple.
I tapped the face of my smartwatch and did my best to peer over both my shoulder and his as I tried not to step on his backpack at my feet. In a momentary glint of light, I saw the problem. This oversized linen closet had once held fluffy bath towels, each rolled and stacked efficiently on the deep shelves with plenty of room for vacuum cleaners and brooms in front of the storage. Not in my absence. A few clean but haphazardly folded towels hung over a shelf at Raven’s elbow, but the rest of the closet had been turned into a crowded junk room piled from floor to ceiling. I couldn’t have fit comfortably alone, let alone with a man the size of Raven pressed up against me.
The light on my watch flickered off, so I tapped it again, but this time a series of alert messages scrolled by. I sighed. A little late to get a warning that Charlie and Rune had made a U-turn, but no time now to figure out how to turn on the notification haptics.
“This isn’t going to work,” Raven whispered in my ear. He shifted uncomfortably behind me.
“Shhhh, it’ll work.”
My empty pack kept the full brunt of his chest from my shoulder blades, but the air in the closet turned heavy. Warm. I was way too warm.
Raven shifted again, trying to turn sideways to make more room. I turned with him, leaning forward on one foot as I swiveled my hips and—
Ohhhhh.
Neither of us breathed.
I was pressed against the shelves, boxed in between spare towels, the vacuum hose, and Raven’s very warm, very responsive body. For some reason, I expected that Raven’s heartbeat would be calm as always, but I could feel the thunder of it all the way through my pack.
I wanted to whisper something clever—maybe remind him again about the rooftop parkour—but clever needed air, and we were rationing.
Focus, I told myself. Focus.
I’d never had a man who was what I needed when I was with him, but what I needed more than anything was a genuine friend, and Raven was that.
I tapped his forearm and pointed toward the crack in the door. It wasn’t much, but enough that we could both see Rune, her unnaturally red hair in a pretty updo with rhinestone barrettes, digging under the edge of an end table in the living room. She stood quickly, a phone in hand, and smoothed down the skirt of a sexy blue dress. She pecked at the phone. Rune’s voice drifted closer, muffled through the crack in the door, and she pulled a blue floral shawl from a hook on the wall.
“Yeah, I’m still here,” she was saying to someone on the phone. “Charlie’s waiting outside, so I only have a minute.”
Raven’s hand brushed mine, light as a page turning.
My breath caught. Only partly from fear. The rest was that ridiculous pull that always picked its moments. This wasn’t the first time Raven had steadied me with the lightest of touches, but here, boxed in and breathless, it felt different. I let the warmth of his fingers sink in for half a second too long. A moment later, we were breathing in sync, and I felt myself calming.
“I’m not worried about him,” Rune continued. “He’s wrapped around my little finger.” Laughter. “He’s not hard to be with, honestly. Let’s just say my needs are fully met.”
It was all I could do not to groan out loud and betray our hiding place.
More laughter. Rune’s voice dipped lower. “The second he stops being useful, though…”
Raven shifted slightly beside me, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. His arm pressed protectively across my shoulder.
“No, no,” Rune was saying now, “I don’t think he’s reached the end of his usefulness yet, but the law of diminishing returns and all that.”
I went very still against the shelves. She’d said something like that once in Ireland, half-laughing, right before she convinced Charlie that I was the one who was bat-shit crazy and she was just poor, sweet little Rune.
I warned him. I told him she wasn’t just manipulative—she was dangerous.
I’d even told him her real name, and he either hadn’t believed me or hadn’t cared.
And still, even knowing what he was choosing, Charlie chose her.
Raven and I watched her pace around the living room, phone clamped to the side of her head. “A better plan might be this weird secret society affiliated with the library. They’ve got loads of books in a secret vault. Charlie says they’re really valuable, but we may want to look into the brotherhood or whatever they are.”
Raven inhaled sharply beside me.
“No, Charlie’s not a member,” Rune said. “But there’s always one or two of them around. Highly fuckable specimens. Long hair. Man buns. Tattoos. They dress all in black. Smell good, too. They have secrets. And power. I don’t know—the Illuminati or something? Well, no, I don’t know their secrets yet, but I bet those secrets are worth money.”
Her voice dropped lower again, conspiratorial and greedy. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? What if you and Rafe and I could retire? Stop selling off pages from books here and there or waiting for Charlie to sneak a book to me before it gets logged in. If I can find out the right kind of secret they want kept secret, we’ll never have to work another day of our lives. I can tell these guys have access to big money. I’m sure they’ll pay to keep us from exposing them.”
I turned slightly, shifting just enough to glance up at Raven. His hand had dropped from my shoulder, and the Walking Lightning rune on his wrist had gone warm against my sleeve—the only sign he ever gave when his Daeganean temper stirred. This was worse than we’d expected, but it was also worse than Rune knew. The Priesthood of Daegan was not to be trifled with.
“Anyway, we can afford to extend our stay here,” Rune continued. “As Charlie’s wife, I have access I wouldn’t have otherwise.”
A car horn beeped. Not a long honk, but just a polite beep.
“I have to go. I’ll start seeing what I can find out about this secret society, and you and I will talk soon. Use secure channels only. I’m not risking this call getting traced.” She paused. “Give my love to Rafe.”
I winced. As far as we knew, only two of her network were still alive. Lovey, her sister-in-law, and Rafe, her husband’s brother. Marco, her husband, had died in a booby-trapped library in Dublin. At Raven’s hands.
Rune just didn’t know that yet.
Unless Charlie had told her.
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