Page 25 of Micah

He eyes me doubtingly. “Or?”

I grin, because this is the exciting part. “Or, it could mean that the components need to fit together too. Another layer of puzzle.”

“So one end of the component would fit into an element on the wall, but the other end would need to fit together with one of the components beside it?” He sounds aghast and grudgingly admiring. I wouldn’t have thought those were two emotions that could go together, but he pulls it off.

“Yep! Or…” I turn my head and look over the rows of crates thoughtfully. “Did you count how many components are in these?”

“No. We thought it was best not to mess around and risk mixing things up or losing them.”

I nod slowly. “I don’t think it’s worth counting them now. I’d need to count the elements on the wall too, and if everything’s in the order that I’ll need to use it, like we think, then it’s not really going to make a difference anyway.”

He frowns again, turning to look first at the wall, then at the crates. “You think there are too many components,” he says finally.

“Not too many,” I correct. “There are the perfect number for what’s needed.”

“But you’re not sure if what’s needed is a single layer of components connected to the elements or a double layer?”

He’s so clever. I like a man who can understand what I’m thinking without me having to spell it out.

“The best way to find out is to start solving the puzzle. But I do still want to check in all the crates first.” I lean into the first one and grab one each of the other components. Once I’m into the rhythm of the puzzle, I’ll bring bunches of them over to my workspace, but until I find the starting point, I won’t need more than this. Slipping them all into my pockets—which weighs my pants down a lot—I say, “Let’s put the lid back on. I’m not sure if that affects the preservation spell, and I don’t want to mess with it.”

Micah shrugs. “Whatever you want.” He lifts the lid on without needing my help (what does an architect need with those muscles, anyway?) and then tapes an index card to it and writes 1.

I nod approvingly and move toward the next crate, but he grabs my arm. “That’s not the second one.”

I look at it, then up at him. “It’s not?”

He shakes his head.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Which one is?”

He points. I glance at the alleged second crate, then around at all the others. Dammit. If crate one is at the top left corner of a grid, it does make sense for that to be the second one. Somehow I got turned around.

“Good job.” I pat him on the chest and step over to the second crate.

“Did you just pat me like a dog?”

I can’t tell if he’s amused or offended. “Not like a dog. Like a… clever demon.”

He mutters something I don’t quite hear, then pries the lid off the second crate for me. I sneak a peek at his face, trying to see if he’s mad. He gazes steadily back at me.

“If you need to do some work, I’ll be fine here,” I venture, but he shakes his head.

“I cleared today to be at your service.”

Ohhhhhh, baby. Those are words I love to hear.

CHAPTERTWELVE

Micah

We’re barely backin the teleport room in Cam’s house when his phone goes nuts. The chimes are practically falling over each other, and they go on for a good twenty seconds. I raise a brow at him. “Someone misses you.”

He frowns as he hauls his phone out of his pocket. “I’ve got no idea who.” He glances at the screen and rolls his eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

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