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“Would you?” There was a challenge in Adam’s retort. “Because yesterday you didn’t even know you had a basement.”
He had a good point.
SIX
ADAM
This place was so much betterthan a cave with a gilded egg or the Arc of the Covenant or the Holy Grail.
Maybe not that last one. Eternal life would be a lot of fun, especially with access to all this equipment.
Deacon and I spent several hours cataloging, with him making notes and me taking pictures and video. When I lost my workshop late last year, I’d lost a part of me as well. Nothing in there had been irreplaceable, for the right price, but the venture had felt liketheidea. The one I could stick to. The one that would finally give me direction.
I still had a lot of ideas—it was who I was—but none of them grabbed me now.
Since last night, that inspiration was back. Sure, this was Deacon’s stuff, his find, but it sent my imagination racing over the possibilities. Were exploration-heist-porn movies a thing? No,pornwas the wrong word for it, because I wanted this movie to have a plot but also have scorching sex.
Like that movie with Deadpool and Black Adam and Wonder Woman, but they all fuck at the end. And in the middle. And the beginning—
“Anyone home?” Aubrey’s voice carried through the room.
“Back here,” Deacon called.
I raised my brows. “Back hereis not a direction.”
“No, but I can follow the sound of your voices.” Aubrey joined us.
“Unless there are echoes and ghosts, trying to misdirect you.”
She looked at me with her mouth twisted, and poked me in the arm. “You don’t feel like a ghost.”
“I’ve taken a corporeal form, specifically to haunt this realm.” I liked Aubrey. She and Deacon had been friends since they were kids, and she usually had a similar sense of humor to his.
They were more like siblings than friends, with the frequent friendly spats and zero sexual tension between them. Aubrey might as well be Deacon’s sister.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a dork. A vampire would’ve made far more sense and taken fewer mental acrobatics to justify.”
“A vampire who hid in a basement for more than a hundred and fifty years and never fed?” Deacon’s question was heavy with disbelief.
“Uh…yeah. He was hibernating. Or mourning, like Lesta— Are we under my shop?”
Deacon looked at her and then up. “Pretty sure.”
“Wow.I came over to pick up that box of clothes, and Dylan said you’d found a door. I had to come see for myself, but this is way cooler than I expected.” As she talked, she cast her gaze around the room. “Holy… Are those…?”
“Corsets and skirts and stuff,” I said to her retreating back.
We followed her to one of the open trunks.
“And stuff…” The fact that she was muttering didn’t hide her disgust at his phrasing. She held up one of the corsets. “Handmade. Real silk. Actual boning—”
My snicker slipped out, and she glared at me.
“Not that kind of boning,” she said.
Deacon snorted. “He knows. And you said it again.”
“Boys.” She grabbed the flashlight Deacon was carrying and shone it on the details of the clothing. “This is fucking incredible. You’re going to let me put these up on consignment for you, right?”
