After sweeping up the glass, I print an inventory sheet and start going title by title, crossing off each book, then placing them carefully back on the shelves.
The list dwindles. Slowly. Annoyingly. But it shrinks.
I reach the final few titles.
And then I see it.
A charm tangled in torn pages and splintered bindings, tucked between the debris.
I pluck it from the wreckage—a weathered metal emblem, no bigger than a coin, braided with dark hair streaked in silver and rose gold. I turn it over, eyes narrowing at the etching on its surface.
Intricate lines twist into a symbol I don’t recognize. Beneath it, words shimmer faintly, slipping from view when I try to read them.
Just as I’m about to give up, the words pull into focus.
The Unseen Lingers.
A cold pulse rips through me.
My grip tightens. My gaze snaps to the shattered case.
Nothing obvious is missing. Shelley, Stoker, Poe—all accounted for, if a little worse for wear.
But something still feels off.
My gaze shifts. And that’s when I see it.
The gap.
The little green book with the gold foil cake on its spine.
The one she fawned over for an hour.
Gone.
What the fuck?
My shadows surge, writhing and snapping, reacting before I can even process why.
Realization slowly sinks its teeth in, smirking around a mouthful of my ignorance.
“Shit … Aurora …”
Ezra
The shadows streak ahead, a living spear tuned only to her scent and pulse.
Panic tears through me, and I bolt, lungs burning, my shadows hurling themselves into the dark like we’ve already lost her.
My body twists and bends as I shift into the Tesem, and then run as fast as my four legs will carry me. Within minutes, I’m on the edge of Aurora’s property and back in my Løkkda. The pickup truck from earlier sits ominously in the far corner of her driveway.
Stripping down to my boxer briefs, I shift into my Umbraeth then silently float to the truck. Louie is inside the house, whining and frantically digging at the door.
Does that mean they’re out here?
If I tried to call out to her now, I could put her in danger.
I’m fast. But one wrong move? He’ll open her throat and paint the cab in crimson.
