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“The cave we were in had been gathering bones for years.” My hands curl into fists on the table. “We should have grabbed one of the older skulls. We could have run an analysis to figure out how long this has been going on.”
“It’s not a skull, but…” Darius reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a hand, setting it on the table. “I grabbed this.”
I stare at it for a moment before shifting my gaze to him. “How long has that been in your pocket?”
His eyes widen, and he rushes out, “I grabbed it when I grabbed the boogeyman’s skull. When that monster tipped over our hill of bones, it stirred everything up, and it looked important.”
I stare down at the hand. While it certainly looks old, it looks no more significant than the other old bones that were down there with us.
My focus returns to Darius. “Why did this one look important?”
“The lines.” He traces the fracture lines that stand out as a darker brown against the aged bone. “It’s a pattern.”
Flint walks around the table to lift the hand and study it. “I think you’re right.”
“Of course, I’m right,” Darius says stiffly. “I’ve been around long enough to recognize the occult.”
“What is it?” Sharpe asks. “Do you think it’s related to whatever is eating people?”
Flint shakes his head. “It’s too hard to make out. I’ll have to take it to the Conservatory and see if Xander or Reese can pull out the image.”
A shiver rolls through me, and muddy drops of water fall from my hair.
Marc touches my shoulder. “You should go shower and warm up.”
“I’m not the only one who needs to get dry,” I protest, even as another shiver wracks my body.
“No, but you’re the most susceptible to cold.” He urges me toward the hall bath. “Go get in the bath. The rest of us can take turns using the upstairs shower and the one in the garage.”
I peer back over my shoulder. “If you’re sure…”
“We should order something warm to eat, too,” Flint adds.
Sharpe’s gaze moves to the floor to ceiling windows in the living room, where rain pounds against the glass. “No one’s going to deliver in this weather.”
“Then we’ll just have to go get it.” Flint races past me toward his room. “I want some bratwurst stew and fresh rolls before Hopper’s takes it off the menu.”
Laughing, I duck into my room to grab my robe before stepping across the hall to the bathroom.
Sharpe is already there, stripping as the bathtub fills, and it’s a testament to how cold I am that the warm water lures me more than the man I love.
He tosses his shirt into the dirty clothes bin and bends to kiss my muddy cheek. “Marc is prepping a fresh batch of coffee while Darius starts a fire in the living room, so take a nice long soak. Flint and I will be back soon with food.”
“Thank you.” I catch his hand. “And thank you for getting us out of that pit. We were running out of escape options that didn’t involve self-annihilation.”
Fear flickers across his eyes. “I’m glad it didn’t come to that.”
“Stop dawdling and get into the shower!” Flint runs into the bathroom, already naked. “I just placed our order, and it will be ready in thirty minutes.”
Sharpe tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Get warm.”
Nodding, I release him and hang my robe on the hook by the gas fireplace, then strip and step into the tub. Thanks to our water system, it’s already half-full and scalding, just the way I like it.
I curl up my knees and sink lower, the water lapping at my breasts as it swiftly rises. Some days, I wonder why I bother to work when I could just spend all my time in the bath, boiling myself alive.
The water continues to rise until it completely covers me and sloshes over the rim of the tub, but I can’t bring myself to move to shut it off. Not when the warmth is finally sinking beneath my skin.
Flint appears at the end of the tub, now fully clothed, and twists the faucet to stop the flow. Concern fills his blue eyes. “I’ll tell Marc to keep an eye on you.”
