“Okay, that’s neat,” I whispered. “Like we’re chameleons.” The words to the old song surfaced automatically. “I’m a man without conviction…”
“You’re too young to know that song,” Angel scolded from the shifting shadows beside me.
“Culture Club is timeless,” I whispered back.
Remi’s blurred form shrugged. “Who?”
“Can you focus?” Ezra’s voice cracked like a whip in our earpieces. “Or should I send Wade in with a spray bottle?”
“Rude,” I grumbled. “You’re invited to the gay dance party too, Ezra. I’m sure Remi would save you a dance.” In the gloom, I could have sworn Remi’s cheeks flushed. Good. Someone needed to help Ezra dislodge the stick from his ass.
Ezra began to sputter, but Wade’s calm voice overrode the channel. “We’re ready when you are, kids. Less chatting, more breaking and entering.”
“Right,” Remi murmured, all business again as he led the way. “Remember, it’s camouflage, not invisibility. Stay in the dark. Move like ghosts.”
“Ghosts are actually really loud,” I corrected him. “Just because everyone else can’t hear them doesn’t mean they don’t walk like elephants.”
A choked sound escaped Angel as he tried to smother his laugh.
“Then pretend you’re a cat, like your boyfriend,” Remi shot back, all traces of flirtation gone, replaced by mission sharp focus. “Quiet paws. Now move.”
Angel flowed up the stairs with a predator’s silent grace, while I had to tiptoe. Remi vanished from all my senses the second he left our side. If I hadn’t been working to keep up with Angel, I might have been left behind.
The building echoed a breathless stillness like a tomb, the only sound the frantic beat of my own heart in my ears. Each floor we passed, the air growing thick with a silence that felt intentional.
I squeezed Angel’s hand. Thankful he kept a grip on me as the shadow spell really messed with my vision. Did he sense something off, too?
We reached Bowman’s floor. The hallway stretched long and dark, with emergency lighting casting more shadows thanillumination. Angel melted against the wall near the stairwell door, a sentinel whose gaze swept the corridor, his body tense. He gave a sharp, nearly imperceptible nod.
Remi stood poised before the apartment door, his fingers tracing swift, intricate patterns in the air. Ghostly runes flickered to life around the lock and frame, glowing a faint blue before dissolving into nothingness. A detection spell, hunting for magical traps or alarms.
While he worked, I turned my focus to the doorframe and the wall I’d mended, letting my sight shift. The world dissolved into a tapestry of gray and silver strands, all neatly slipped and looped into an undisturbed stillness. Not a single frayed end. Not even the faintest scar.
A cold knot tightened in my stomach. Had I done that? I’d always pictured the Veil as a rigid, brittle thing—once torn, forever broken. But this felt fluid. Alive. The implications were staggering.
“Anything?” Angel whispered from the shadows beside me.
“No,” I breathed, the word feeling inadequate. “It’s pristine. No remnants of the tear. Nothing.” At least, not out here. The perfect silence felt less like peace and more like a held breath.
“No lingering magic on my end either,” Remi confirmed, his voice tight with frustration. “Whoever broke the ritual seal was thorough.” He slipped into the apartment’s dark interior, Angel and me on his heels. “Let’s just hope they were messy enough to leave a few rune fragments behind.”
An oppressive weight filled the apartment with foreboding, and I shuddered.
“What are you sensing?” Angel whispered.
How did I explain that it was nothing, and yet something? I shook my head, needing a moment to find the words.
Remi moved to the center of the room, where a circle had been drawn and then hastily scuffed away in an attempt tobreak the spell. He knelt, using his phone to illuminate the faint, lingering marks and document them. The ghostly outline of bodies remained on the floor, and my mind conjured the memory of Bowman’s distorted face where he’d been slumped against the far wall.
The closer I drifted toward the circle, the thinner the air felt, pulling at my senses until a wave of dizziness threatened to drag me under. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“You sure the spell isn’t still active?” I managed, my voice tight.
“It’s broken, but I’ll eradicate the sigils before we leave.”
“Could they be reactivated?” Ezra’s voice asked from our earpieces.
“It would take significant power, but yes,” Remi agreed.
