Ripples
It was nearly eleven when I pried open my eyes, sunlight streaming through the curtains like an accusation. Warm. Comfortable. Disoriented.
And not alone in bed.
I blinked, my brain struggling to process several conflicting pieces of information at once. First, I wasn’t in the twin bed I’d claimed yesterday. Second, I was curled against Raven’s side, my face pressed to his shoulder, one leg tangled with his. And third—my jacket and boots were on the floor several feet away, though I had no memory of taking them off.
“Raven,” I hissed, jostling him awake. “Why the hell am I in your bed?”
He squinted, eyes foggy with sleep, then slowly registered our position and the late hour. “Because that’s where you went after you wandered to the bathroom in the dark,” he said, his voice rough. “Thank God you’re not actually a sleepwalker.”
“I what?” I pulled away slightly, trying to create space between us—though it was too late for dignity.
“Yeah, you got up around five-thirty,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. “Went to the bathroom, came back, and climbed into my bed. You were unconscious before I could say anything.”
I stared at him, mortified. “I don’t even remember that.”
“I figured.” He sat up, rolling his shoulder with a wince. “I’ve been sleeping on the outermost twelve inches of the mattress while you took over the rest. I have the spine cramp to prove it.”
I busied myself untangling the blanket from my legs so I wouldn’t have to look at him. Maybe I didn’t just walk in my sleep. Maybe some part of me had crossed that line on purpose. “I’m sorry, I—”
My apology died on my lips as I caught sight of the clock on the nightstand and gasped.
“Checkout’s in an hour.” I launched myself out of bed.
Muttering something unholy, Raven reached for his boots. “I’ll get the bags.”
We moved in a flurry of activity, throwing toiletries into overnight bags, gathering clothes, checking drawers and closets to make sure nothing was left behind. Despite the rush, I was acutely aware of Raven’s proximity—the way he stepped around me in the bathroom, the brush of his hand as he passed me my jacket, the scent of him still clinging to my skin.
“The book,” I stammered. “We need to check before we check out.”
“Already handled,” Raven said, glancing at his watch. “I just called the front desk. We’ve got a late checkout so we can grab both the book and lunch before we get on the road.”
I exhaled, tension easing just slightly…but only slightly.
With our bags in hand, we stopped by the reading room. Every step toward the shelf where we’d left the fake Liber Umbrae Nominium felt like a long one. If it was gone—if someone had taken it while we were sleeping—it would change everything. Again.
But there it was, exactly where we’d placed it. Untouched. Waiting.
No one had taken the bait. No mole in this trap.
I exchanged a glance with Raven as I pulled the book from the shelf and tucked it into my bag. “So the mole’s not Sierra.”
“Nope,” he said quietly. “It’s Charlie, and we both know it. And now we take the bait home.”
My gaze darted back to Raven and then away just as fast. Something about his face in profile reminded me of how warm I’d felt snuggling against him when I’d opened my eyes to his face. I avoided looking at him for a beat too long, pretending to check my bag’s zipper one last time, but it was hard to focus.
“If the book was never taken,” I said quietly, “then last night wasn’t about the reading room.”
“It was about the cave,” Raven finished. “They believe there’s something down there.”
“Something Charlie told them was there.”
My mind racing, I closed the reading room door behind us. “You think they backed out?” I whispered as we started down the hallway.
Raven gave a slight nod. “Probably. The diver missed his window. Maybe something spooked him. I’m certain, though, that Rune and whoever was bidding $3 million are going to be a tad upset that they weren’t able to retrieve that kind of payday.”
“Still,” I said, exhaling the word. “We know who leaked the mission. That’s something.”
I knew if I talked my way through the facts a few times, I’d eventually accept it. Charlie was a traitor. Everyone had told me what a good guy he was, and I’d felt that if he was that good, then I must be the problem. Somehow, if everyone knows you’re damaged, they think you’re the cause of every problem. But now I knew better, and I was slowly coming to terms with it. I just needed to keep reminding myself.
“It’s everything,” he replied. “Now we move forward knowing exactly who we’re up against. If Rune believes that book is in an underwater cave, this won’t be her last attempt. Not for that kind of profit.”
We headed downstairs in silence, the bright sunlight from our room giving way to a gray wash of fog as we reached the inn’s lower level.
The dining room smelled like brewed tea, grilled vegetables, and something faintly citrus—maybe lemon from the linen spray. The breakfast crowd was long gone, and the lunch service was in full swing. It was well past noon when Raven and I finally made it down, having overslept and rushed through checkout.
We snagged a small table near the windows overlooking the water. Our table preference was pure habit—we always sat where we could see the exits. Beyond the glass panes, the spring basin was still cloaked in fog, the water barely visible beneath the low white haze. Flashing lights pulsed near the edge—emergency vehicles, their colors diffused by the mist.
I remembered leaning against Raven during the final hour of our stakeout, my head on his shoulder, too tired to sit upright. By the time we got back to the room, I’d barely made it to the bed before I passed out. I wasn’t sure Raven had slept at all. The dark circles under his eyes betrayed him.
Now he stirred cream into his coffee like it was any other morning. The normalcy of the gesture felt wrong somehow, against the backdrop of flashing lights. The emergency vehicles outside had caught our attention as soon as we came downstairs.
Until the waiter stopped at our table the third time.
“Y’all hear what happened in the springs this morning?”
I looked up, already bracing myself. People only say that one way—y’all hear what happened—when it’s something bad. Something permanent.
“No,” Raven said easily. Too easily.
The waiter—a friendly guy with too much gel in his hair and an apron that read Locals Eat Here—shook his head. “Dive team found a body in the water near the basin. Wasn’t one of theirs. Full gear. No ID. No dive permit.”
I set my fork down very carefully. Part of me had expected this, but hearing it confirmed made it real in a way I wasn’t ready for. We’d failed. Someone was dead because we’d missed him.
“What?” I tried to sound casual, but my voice came out too thin.
The waiter leaned in, clearly enjoying the drama. “Yeah. Must’ve gone in sometime during the night—way before dawn, they figure. He was looking for something down in the caverns. Stirred up silt so bad he couldn’t see. Got disoriented and ran out of air.”
Raven’s mug didn’t quite make it back to the table. He set it down too gently, like he was afraid to break the moment.
“Do they know who he was?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
I’d felt him. Just a flicker of an energy signature—brief, panicked, and fading. It must have been him. It had to be.
The waiter shrugged. “Fake name on the check-in log. Paid in cash. No ID. A couple of guests in his suite checked out early this morning—around six, way before normal checkout. Just vanished and left all their stuff. And tracked mud all over the room.” He dropped his voice. “Dive captain said the guy had rebreather gear and no buddy. That’s not recreational diving. Not at Ghost Glass Springs.”
He turned to pour coffee at another table, like he hadn’t just carpet-bombed our afternoon with casual gossip about a man who’d died hours ago.
I stared at my plate. Grilled vegetables gone cold. A half-eaten sandwich. A smear of berry compote I hadn’t touched.
“We missed him,” I said, not looking at Raven. “We were supposed to watch the springs. Eyes on the water. On anyone trying to get into that cave.”
“Just observe. Verify their presence and their attempt. We weren’t supposed to interfere.”
“But we could have. We could’ve stopped him. Or… or called the authorities anonymously—so he wouldn’t know it was a trap.”
“We stayed up most of the night, Lilah. We missed him.”
“Doesn’t matter. We still should’ve seen him.” My throat felt raw, like I’d swallowed gravel. “He died looking for something that wasn’t there. He was never supposed to go inside. Just get spooked. Maybe caught. Not die in some godawful underwater cave.”
“If there was mud all over the room, they went in through the woods,” Raven said. “The caves run for miles—he could’ve entered far from where we were watching. There’s no way we could’ve seen him.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It is,” he said, his voice low but unwavering. “Lilah—he was already lost the second he stepped into the water. You can’t be more responsible for him than his own team.”
I shook my head, trying to hold myself together. “Raven, they knew. Rafe. Lovey. Probably on the phone with Rune. They knew he was down there. They knew he was in trouble. And they let him die rather than get help.”
His eyes locked on mine—sharp, clear, unflinching. “Yes. They did.”
My throat tightened.
“They didn’t just send him in blind,” I said. “They watched him go under. And when he didn’t come back—when he didn’t check in—they didn’t help. Didn’t raise the alarm. Didn’t go for help. They let him die so they wouldn’t get caught.”
“Disposable.”
Raven reached across the table, his fingers brushing mine. Not demanding. Not crowding. Just there.
I looked out the window. Ghost Glass Springs shimmered in the sunlight where the fog had begun to lift—beautiful, quiet, like nothing had happened.
But we knew better.
We left the dining room and headed to the front desk to check out after settling our bill. We’d brought our overnight bags with us to lunch—partly because we were short on time, but mostly because I wasn’t about to let anyone else lay a hand on the bag carrying the fake book we were taking home to Dru. The front desk clerk was efficient. We were cutting it close.
Outside, we crossed the lobby and stepped into the parking lot. I exhaled for the first time in what felt like hours.
The fake book—nothing more than a clever forgery of Liber Umbrae Nominium—was tucked safely in my bag. Beautiful binding. Flawless patina. Worth maybe two hundred dollars to the right collector. It would’ve fooled plenty of people—just not anyone who truly knew what to look for.
I buckled my seatbelt in silence. Raven was already in the driver’s seat, pulling up Dru’s contact on his smartwatch. He slid the watch into speaker mode and held his arm toward me so we could both hear.
“We’re in the car now,” Raven said. “Leaving the inn. Should be back on your turf by late afternoon.”
Dru’s voice came through almost instantly—clear, sharp, and unflinching. “Good. I already know about the body in the spring.”
“You do?”
“Of course. My security team’s been on it for hours. The surveillance equipment you planted at Rune and Charlie’s place picked up some heated conversations between Rune and Rafe in the middle of the night. Rune was adamant—they weren’t to come back without the book. Lots of yelling, but Rafe clearly values his life more than three million.”
On screen, Dru closed her eyes and gave her head the slightest shake. “Rune, however, does not.”
“So…what now?”
“Now, you two come home. I know everything I need to know.”
I sniffed. “Except where Rune will strike next.”
I glanced out the windshield. The spring was now just a glint of green-blue in the distance. Raven’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, but he didn’t start the car.
“Yes, I’m working on that, Lilah,” Dru said. “Just come home—and bring both books.”
I opened my mouth to ask what that meant, but a knock on the passenger window sent my elbow into the door handle before my brain caught up.
A clerk stood just outside—one of the front desk staff, maybe twenty, barely more than a kid. She was holding a large mint-green gift bag against her chest like it might break. Her expression was apologetic.
“Hang on, Dru.” I rolled down the window.
“Miss Burns?” the clerk asked. “I’m so sorry. This was left for you yesterday afternoon and put in the office safe. We just found it while processing your checkout. A gentleman said it was for you and your partner, to be delivered when you checked out—but he gave us your original room number.”
She hesitated, then rushed ahead.
“When you switched rooms at check-in, the delivery note didn’t get updated in our system. We only realized the mix-up when my supervisor noticed you’d checked out of a different room than what was on the slip.”
She looked mortified. I must have been squinting at her like she had three heads because she added quickly, “We’re really sorry for the delay.”
She handed me the gift bag, and I helped her angle it through the window as the pale pink tissue paper brushed my forehead. I peeked inside at the parcel—neatly wrapped in brown paper, tied with thin twine, and sealed with a wax stamp. Not the priesthood seal. This was older. Rougher. The kind of mark used by someone who knew how to make something vanish by making it look like nothing at all. I had no doubt that this version wasn’t a fake. Too much energy pulsating between my hands.
“Thank you,” I said, and she gave a quick smile before hurrying back toward the inn—probably just glad to have fixed the mistake.
I glanced at Raven, then held the parcel toward the smartwatch still active on his wrist as I freed it from its frou-frou wrappings.
“You changed rooms?” Dru sighed. “Was that your idea, Lilah? You could have caused a serious missed delivery of the artifact by not following protocol.”
“Your matchmaking skills were noted. And declined.” I folded my arms, then added, throat dry, “So we have the real thing. The, um…book.”
“The real artifact is in that package,” Dru confirmed. “I couldn’t risk sending it through normal channels. If someone intercepted my messages or tampered with the courier instructions…” She didn’t finish the thought.
Pushing the gift bag and tissues to my feet, I ran my thumb over the rough twine. The parcel was heavier than I expected.
Of course, it is! Probably the weight of all those demonic secrets inside.
“And the forgery?” Raven asked.
“It’ll have a new home in our library,” Dru said. “But in one of the lesser gates. It’s served its purpose. The only book that really mattered is now safely in your hands, and I want you to deliver it to my home so no one will realize you have it. I’ll secure it in the library after hours.”
“So we’re finished?” I asked. “Mission accomplished?”
There was a long pause on her end.
“No,” Dru said finally. “You’ve earned a break. But after that book is in my hands—so hurry home.” The connection went dead.
Raven tapped the watch face to darken the screen, then reached over and rested his hand gently on my knee—no words, just steady pressure.
“I’m okay,”I said after a long pause. I didn’t have to tell Raven what was on my mind. “I think I felt him in his last moments. Or maybe it was just my imagination.”
“This mission, Lilah, may be over, but it may take a while for you to come to terms with it. You don’t need to rush it, and I’m here if you need to talk through it.”
“I just…”I stared out at the stretch of empty road ahead.“I hate that a man died for nothing. But I hate more that Rune and her people let him die.”
He didn’t respond right away. Just kept his hand there, grounding me.
Raven started the engine and pulled onto the long driveway that curved toward the main road. It was well past one o’clock, and we had a four-hour drive ahead of us. The inn was already behind us, blocking any view of the springs—but I knew they were back there, shimmering and undisturbed, hiding their secrets beneath the surface.
I set the package in my lap, the twine rough beneath my fingers. It sat between us like a question with too many answers—one someone had died for, and someone else had abandoned him for.
Raven didn’t speak. Just covered my hand with his, anchoring me the way he always did when the rest of the world didn’t make sense.
“Lilah, we’re not like them. We watch out for each other.”
Not a comfort. A fact.
I nodded, pressing my palm against his. Rune’s people hadn’t even tried to save their own teammate. They’d abandoned him at the first sign of trouble—and I suspected they’d do the same to Rune and Charlie when the time came.
If Rune didn’t sacrifice them first.
I didn’t know. What I did know was that if I’d been trapped in an underwater cave, I had no doubt Raven would have moved heaven and earth to find me, no matter what it cost him personally. No hesitation. No excuses. He would never have vanished into the night, leaving muddy boot prints and a mess for someone else to clean up.
We weren’t them.
We had each other’s backs.
And as the road unspooled ahead of us, I finally breathed like I believed it.
THE END
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