Page 32 of What the Shadows Hide
“That’s not an answer.”
I take a slow drink, letting the heat burn down my throat. “Had work to do.”
Cal snorts. “Right. Work that apparently involves driving past the Voss place at midnight.”
My jaw tightens. “Who told you that?”
“Half the valley knows your truck by sound.” His grin fades when I don’t reply. “Christ, Tristan. What are you doing?”
I stare out at the warehouse floor where sunlight filters through high windows, cutting long lines of dust through the air. “Just making sure she’s safe.”
“Safe?” He laughs without humor. “From what? You?”
I don’t answer. The coffee scalds my palm, but I hold it anyway.
Calder studies me quietly for a moment, the kind of silence that’s almost pity. “You need to let her go before this turns into something worse.”
“She doesn’t belong here,” I say finally. “That house—she’s not built for it.”
He shakes his head. “You mean she’s not built foryou.”
The words land harder than they should.
I look down at my reflection in the black surface of the coffee. My pulse hums, the echo of last night still in my blood. The smell of honey and rain still clings to me, faint but persistent.
“She’s not the one who needs saving,” Calder adds quietly. “You are.”
Calder’s footsteps fade into the hum of machinery, leaving me alone with the sound of pipes and my own heartbeat.
I stare out the high windows toward the ridge. The light hits the valley just right, catching on the faint silver line of her roof.
Too far away to touch. Too close to forget.
I should be working.
Instead, I find myself whispering her name. “Raine.” The sound of it is dangerous on my tongue.
I already know she’s something I can’t stop.
Not now.
Not ever.
CHAPTER 17
Raine
My blurry eyes open.My heart is already beating fast, wondering if anyone has been inside.
I sit up, listening to the sounds of the estate. There’s no birdsong, no wind through the vines—just the soft hum of the fridge, the pinging of old pipes, and the hollow tick of the clock.
But the unease sits heavily. The kind that doesn’t fade even after coffee.
I get up and check the locks. Everything is secure.
Still, the air feelsused.Like someone moved through it and put it back wrong.
The flashlight sits on the counter where I left it. I keep catching myself staring at it between sips of coffee. It’s polished clean, no mud in the grooves. The batteries replaced.
