The archive entrance was locked by another warded door, but Eleanor’s key worked here, too, the enchantment recognizing the authorization.
The stairs down were narrow, dimly lit by magical sconces that activated as they descended. The air grew cooler, carrying that particular smell of old books and preserved parchment.
The archives.
The door at the bottom opened into a vast room filled with floor-to-ceiling shelves, stretching back into shadows. Medieval grimoires, dangerous texts, everything too powerful for general access.
Ramona pointed. “We need to get to that section to wait out the lights, so we don’t trigger them back on by walking in the main walkway.”
Zara nodded, following Ramona’s lead.
“Come on.” Zara grabbed Ramona’s hand, pulled her deeper into the stacks, into the narrow space between shelves where shadows were thickest.
They pressed themselves into the corner where two shelves met, Ramona’s back against the books, Zara in front of her. The space was barely wide enough for two people. They were pressed together, chest to chest, Zara’s hands braced on either side of Ramona’s head.
Ramona’s heart hammered through her body, roaring in her ears. Through the tether, she felt Zara’s elevated pulse, her protective focus.
The lights turned off, and Ramona couldn’t see anything in front of her. “I’m feeling jealous of your dark vision right now,” she admitted.
Zara huffed a small laugh, too close to her ear. Through the tether, Ramona could feel a pulse of arousal. Zara’s hand slid down her side, settling on her hip. Zara’s thumb was making slow, lazy circles over Ramona’s skin. In the darkness, the sensation felt heightened on her skin.
Ramona tucked her face against Zara’s neck, and she felt the demon shiver against her. The warmth of Zara, the feel of provocative thoughts through the tether, the danger and excitement and thrill of the moment… This want, thisneedfor Zara, was making her reckless.
Ramona’s breath was coming too fast. Not just from fear now. From the pressure of Zara’s body against hers, from the heat between them in this cramped space, from the absolutely inappropriate timing of her body’s response to their situation.
It was the adrenaline, she told herself. It was just the tether sensing the heightened energy in their bodies.
“Listen,” Zara whispered, her breath warm against Ramona’s ear, making her recall all manner of things Zara had whispered to her in the dark for weeks now.
Ramona tried to concentrate past her racing heart, her stupid lust. The footsteps were still distant. Not moving closer. Just a guard making regular rounds through the main library.
Zara didn’t move from where they were pressed together in the dark. Ramona could feel Zara’s breath on her neck, the warmth of her body, the way her hips were pinning Ramona against the shelf.
“Ramona,” Zara murmured. “Your heart is racing.”
“We’re hiding in a place I’m banned. Of course it’s racing.”
“That’s not why.” Zara’s voice dropped lower, amused. “Really? Here? Now?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ramona whispered.
“Liar.” Zara shifted slightly, pressing closer. “You’re so turned on.”
“I amnot?—”
“You are.” Zara’s fingers teased along the waistband of Ramona’s skirt. “We’re breaking into your former workplace, hiding from guards in the restricted archives, and I think you’re getting wet thinking about… what, exactly?”
“Nothing,” Ramona breathed. “I’m not?—”
“Don’t lie to me.” Zara’s lips were at her ear now. “I can feel everything you’re feeling. So tell me — what are you thinking about?”
Ramona bit her lip. Refused to answer.
“Come on, we have at least twenty minutes to wait here,” Zara whispered, her tongue tracing the sensitive shell of Ramona’s ear.
Ramona let out a ragged breath.
Zara’s hand slid lower, found the hem of Ramona’s skirt. “Is it this? Being trapped here with me? The danger?”
