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“I bet you could make good use of these,” she said, and spun the one she’d grabbed in her hand without moving away from me. “Do you think the ghosts would mind if I pilfered one just for our explorations here?”
A tickle of amusement rose in my chest. “I’m sure they’d forgive you.”
Even twirling it casually, I could see the skill in the way she handled the blade. “Guns are more direct, but knives let you stay connected to the act, don’t you think?” she remarked.
I couldn’t restrain a chuckle. “I think I wouldn’t want to go hand-to-hand with you with any kind of weapon, but especially not that.”
She peeked through her eyelashes at me with an abruptly flirty expression. “Oh, I’d go easy on you. It’d be more fun that way.”
She flipped the knife in her hand again and drifted toward the doorway, not even waiting or pushing for a response. No demands. No expectations.
That might be the most miraculous thing about her. Despite the physical intimacy we’d shared twice now and the fact that we were still around each other regularly, Dess didn’t seem to need or even want me to fawn over her, to treat her like more than a colleague. I knew she appreciated our physical connection, but she wasn’t insisting on it becoming anything fraught and romantic.
I knew how unusual her attitude was. Because of that problem, I’d stopped sleeping with women except an occasional one night stands when the itch got strong enough. If I’d hooked up with the same woman more than once, it would inevitably turn into long text chains, hopeful phone calls, and teasing pet names fishing for one in return. No matter how clear I tried to be about only looking for something casual, that never stuck.
Until Dess. She knew how to take the good and not worry about the depth of emotion I couldn’t offer her. Strangely, that fact stirred more actual affection in me than I could remember feeling for anyone… in a very long time.
I wasn’t totally sure what to make of it, but since she wasn’t nudging me for passionate declarations, I didn’t have to make anything of it at all.
I trailed after Dess into the next room. Just as I made it through the doorway, she called out, “Hey, I got something. Is this the wall from the photo?”
I hustled the rest of the way inside, the other guys converging around us. Dess was standing by a sagging metal desk in what appeared to be the factory’s office room. On the wall across from her, up near the ceiling, a spiderweb of cracks stretched through the plaster. They crossed through the deeper groves of a carved symbol that matched the one in the mansion.
“That’s it,” Blaze confirmed, snapping his own picture of it.
“It’s obviously been there for a long time,” Julius said. “We need to figure out why. Spread out—maybe there’s been some kind of record left behind. Even a scrap of torn paper on the floor might give us the link we need.”
Garrison moved to a creaky filing cabinet in the corner. The drawers appeared to be mostly empty, but he fished out the few papers he found inside, glanced at them, and stuffed them into the satchel he’d brought. Dess started paging through the few decrepit binders left on a shelving unit next to it. Julius checked the desk drawers, and Blaze and I knelt down to paw through the stray documents that had fallen to the floor.
They were grimy with the grit that scattered the linoleum, a coating of dust—and an occasional footprint. Those were probably from the “urban explorers” who’d passed through, but they could be more relevant than that. I passed them to Garrison to add to his stash.
“Hold up,” Blaze said suddenly, freezing in his hunched stance next to the desk.
The rest of us stiffened automatically, even Dess. She’d been around us long enough to recognize that if any of us sounded a warning, it should be heeded.
“What’s the matter?” Julius asked.
“There’s a fixture on the ceiling in the corner,” Blaze said without looking directly at it. “I didn’t notice it before because the shelving unit blocked it from my line of sight near the doorway. I don’t know for sure what’s inside it, or if there’s anything at all, and if it’s what I think it is, there’s a strong possibility it isn’t even active—”
“What do you think it is?” Garrison demanded through gritted teeth.
Blaze shot a glower at him. “A camera. If I were going to bet on it, I’d say there at least used to be a security camera in there.”
Dess frowned, but her stance stayed tensed. “Why would anyone still be monitoring security feeds in this place? It’s obviously been abandoned for years.”
“Exactly,” Blaze said. “That’s why I said it probably isn’t even active. If it even is a camera. But still… if it is active and monitored, it’s too late now. We’ve already been caught on it.” He paused. “And if I missed that one at first, it’s possible there are others I missed too.” He muttered a curse at himself.
A deeper chill prickled down my spine. Was that why I hadn’t liked the feeling of this place—some part of me had sensed that we could be being watched? Of course, the stink explained my uneasiness perfectly well on its own.
“They apparently didn’t mind the urban explorers before us,” Garrison pointed out. “No reason to think they’ll have a problem with us. If someone is watching.”
Julius’s expression had turned even more stern than usual. “We shouldn’t take the chance, especially since we don’t know how long we might already have been under surveillance. Grab all the loose material in here that you can quickly, and let’s move out.”
Dess swept the binders into a bag of her own and opened it wider for Julius to shove handfuls of crumpled papers into. Blaze and I scooped everything we could off the floor into a heap that we crammed into Garrison’s satchel. We might have missed a few bits and pieces, but I agreed with Julius that it was best not to tempt fate by thumbing our noses at the risks any longer.
Tramping back into the thicker stink of the front room with the hooks, my stomach lurched despite myself. I hesitated, wondering whether we should squeeze back through the window or walk out the front door.
And then that question didn’t matter anymore.
