He nodded, his lips parting on some unspoken response. But he clenched his jaw and swallowed the words.
My nerves still felt shaky, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the traps or Gavin’s touch. It was probably both. Distance was the answer.
Distance from danger, and from the man who’d crush my heart beneath his leather boots if I wasn’t careful.
A gruff voice cut through the silence like a second swing blade. “Lying down on the job? Remind me again why I hired the two of you.”
I winced, rolling off Gavin, my muscles protesting the sudden movement.
“Bowen, always with your impeccable timing,” Gavin grumbled, climbing to his feet. He nodded as the other two members of our team, Cass and Reid, followed Bowen out of one of the shadowed tunnels.
Cass gave me a knowing look, folding her arms over her corseted top, which I ignored as I bent to retrieve themoonstone. She was as close to a best friend as one could have among thieves, and she had an annoying way of reading the room, or in our case, the cavern.
Reid, on the other hand, was already buried in his notebook, scribbling furiously as he examined the blade hanging from the burned rope.
Gavin nudged the blade, giving it a little swing. “You hired us because we’re capable and can navigate danger. Like the trap we just encountered. We’re fine, by the way. I’ll just bottle up my trauma. Thanks for asking.” Gavin’s eyes shifted toward Reid. “However, some of us would walk right into a big, scary pit because he was too busy taking notes about the glowing fungi.”
Reid used his middle finger to press his spectacles further up his nose, flashed Gavin an impervious grin, then went back to his notebook.
“Hey, leave the glowing fungi out of this,” Cass said, tapping the pouch attached to her hip. “The samples I collected are rumored to have amazing healing qualities. And don’t get me started on the spores.”
I shook my head at their antics. We were an odd crew: a daredevil with the physical skills to back it up, a scholar more interested in documenting the journey than treasure, and a budding botanic enthusiast. And then there was me, stuck somewhere between the group’s moral compass and making sure we all made it out alive, especially a certain green-eyed thief. Thankfully, Bowen, our stoic leader, had enough patience to corral us into achieving our common goal.
“All right, let’s get back to work.” Bowen folded his arms across his expansive chest, his worn leather jacket pulling taut as he nodded toward me. “Did you find it?”
“Yeah. We found it.” I reached into my satchel and showed him the rune. The stone with the strange symbol fit perfectly in my palm.
“Good. We found ours too. We should keep moving. The treasure room can’t be much farther.”
“Before we go, does anyone want to see the map again?” Gavin asked as he stretched a hand behind his shirt collar. “Because while you’re back there, I have an itch I need scratched.”
“No!” the four of us shouted in unison, our voices echoing through the cavern.
Gavin shrugged. “Fine. I see how it is. So much for my contribution as a living canvas. I guess we’ll just use the map Reid copied into his journal from now on.” He took the lead, checking the compass hanging from his neck before walking through the next tunnel.
Chapter 3
We followed the soundof water dripping against stone until we found an underground stream. The shallow current was a good sign. It meant we were close. According to the map, the treasure room was in this part of the cave. We just had to find a way in.
My boots splashed through the clear channel, and I dipped my hands into the cool water. A haze of dust rinsed from my fingers, and I cupped my palms with liquid to wash my face.
Gavin ran a wet hand through his disheveled hair, slicking back the strands. Water slid down his neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt in a slow, distracting trickle.
I definitely wasn’t staring at him.
Until he caught me.
I cocked my head, feigning indifference and reached up to tighten the cord around my hair like the casual, unaffected partner that I was.
The faint twitch of his lips was his only acknowledgment before his gaze slipped away and he busied himself with checking his gear.
Get a grip, Nichols. The treasure is encased in gold, not six feet of muscle and an infuriating smirk.
With a low grumble, I dunked my hands back into thestream, but froze as a distant sound rose over the rush of water. It wasn’t a rumble like the cave collapse or the chitter of bats. It was melodic, almost dreamlike, as if someone was singing.
But as I looked around at the others, no one else seemed to hear it.
A new series of dark tunnels branched off in front of us. Behind me, the stream narrowed, spilling over a steep ledge into a cascading waterfall that vanished into the inky cavity. The far side of the cave was nothing but coarse stone, with jagged slabs jutting from the surface.
