Page 44 of His Claim
“A little while,” I answered. “There’s enough food for a week. More if we ration.”
Her lips parted, then closed. She wrapped her arms around herself, not in fear, but in thought. She was processing everything. I could see it written all over her face.
I reached for another strip of jerky, tore it in half, and handed another piece to her. “Eat. Rest. We’ll move when it’s safe.”
She took it, her fingers brushing mine for just a moment. Her eyes lingered on me, something soft in their depths.
I could still taste the jerky on my tongue when the back of my neck started to prickle. That’s when I noticed a foreign scent. Someone had been here. Recently.
I froze.
Mariah noticed. “What is it?”
I moved to the far side of the cavern, past the stacked crates, to the corner where I’d hidden what mattered most. A canvas roll, tucked beneath a loose stone slab. My hand went straight to the space. Empty.
My gut tightened.
I flipped open another crate, digging until I reached the bottom, where I always stored my fallback copy. That was empty too.
“Shit,” I muttered.
Mariah was on her feet instantly. “What? What’s wrong?”
I straightened, my claws sliding free as instinct roared through me. “A book. My book.”
Her brow furrowed. “A book?”
“Not just any book,” I snapped, a bit more harshly than I meant to. I pulled air through my nose, tasting the damp coal dust, the lingering oil, and the faint tang of blood still drying on me, trying to narrow in on what I had sensed.
I forced my voice lower, sucked in control. “It held maps of the base. Patrol rotations. Guard habits. Weaknesses.”
Her eyes widened. “And someone took it?”
“Yes,” I growled, my gaze sweeping the cavern.
I yanked open the weapons crate, my hand curling around a knife. The feel of it in my palm was comforting. “Stay close to me.”
She lifted her knife, her knuckles white around the handle.
I prowled the cavern, every sense straining. My ears caught the drip of water from the ceiling, the quiet hiss of the lanterns, the echo of our breathing. My eyes scanned the shadows, searching for a flicker of movement, a breath, anything.
Nothing.
I stalked down the narrow tunnel, knife raised. The stone pressed cold against my shoulder. Still nothing. I searched for several minutes for any sign of someone, but I soon realized that the scent wasn’t fresh. Whoever had been here was long gone.
I returned to the cavern, my pulse steady but hard.
Mariah stood in the lantern light, her chest rising and falling in a quick pattern, the knife ready in her hands.
“Find anything?” she asked.
“No.” I forced the word through clenched teeth. “Whoever it was, they knew what they wanted. And they’re long gone.”
Her lips parted, her voice hushed. “Then what do we do?”
I exhaled, dragging a hand through my hair. “We don’t panic. We rest. We move in the morning.”
Her jaw tightened, but she nodded.
