Chapter 53
“The most valuable thing a Warden can have is a home. A place untouched by the work we do or the things we hunt. Sometimes, having a safe haven where you can rest and heal will be the only thing that keeps you from breaking.”
Journals of Warden Michael Keane
Nic left Alexys with her father’s journal and retreated to his bedroom down the hall. It felt right to give her space to read and process. He couldn’t imagine the grief she’d experienced, losing her father in the field when they’d been so close.
His bags from the trip to West Virginia were still packed, so he busied himself with unpacking.
Entity was kind enough to collect their belongings, and he was grateful that everything returned home with him.
He’d have to bleach a few things, the others, like his rucksack, would need a good wash. Nic unzipped the bag and froze.
The flora samples. And among them, Alexys’s spider.
He’d completely forgotten about it.
Nic carefully lifted the jar and set it on his dresser.
No matter how exhausted he was, he couldn’t deny the thrill of having trapped both the creature that’d been terrorizing Alexys, but also something that had never been cataloged before.
He had thought any hope of getting an invitation to the Yale Cryptozoology Conference was unattainable, but somehow, in the end, he’d found a potentially undocumented creature, and captured it.
Giddy with scholarly enthusiasm, Nic bent down so that he was eye-level with the jar and peered inside.
It was filled with translucent silver threads. The spider had spun so many webs, he could barely see through them to find if it was still inside. But there, in the thick center, was a dark dime-sized object.
Nic pulled out his phone to take a few pictures and then sorted through some of the notifications clogging up his screen that he’d put off reviewing since returning home.
Among them was an email from Charlotte. It was long-winded, as per usual, and contained an invitation to visit the Entity R&C London office to review the archived references she’d found on nightmare-inducing creatures.
He could have dismissed it considering he had the culprit already contained, but an interesting reference caught his eye.
The London Natural History Museum was hosting an exhibit for Arachnids Across the World, and Charlotte was certain that the expansive collection even boasted a few loans from Entity’s Archives.
Among them, she found mentions of a Dreamweaver, a Class E that had been extinct for so long it was no longer listed in the company database.
Nic regarded the jar on his dresser and considered his luck. Either the universe was apologizing for all the bullshit it had just put him through, or he was about to embark on yet another wild goose chase, this time back to his home country. Either way, it would be worth the risk.
Nic considered his options. After taking an unapproved trip to West Virginia, nearly dying, and failing to rescue Elliot or document the creature he’d set out to find, he was almost 100 percent certain he’d not receive approval to go to London on a whim anytime soon.
However, as a devout hoarder of vacation days and an otherwise upstanding employee, he had an arsenal of excuses and time off ready to go.
If he still had a job when he returned to the office, of course.
And then there was Alexys to consider, as well.
The person the spider had been haunting for so long.
Years, according to Hornsby’s report. He would need to find a way to tell her that the spider was captured.
That he knew about her nightmares to begin with but also that she shouldn’t have them anymore.
He wanted to believe she would be relieved, but Alexys was an incredibly private person.
Perhaps, he would let things settle before telling her everything.
Nic checked the time, did some quick math, and realized it was far too early in the morning in London to call Charlotte, so he sent her a text instead.
He’d conduct his research and see his family, who had been desperate for him to visit for months—it was the perfect excuse.
Two birds, one stone, and a coveted ticket to rub his accolades in his colleagues’ faces.
Nic made his way to his home office to do a little research into the arachnid exhibit and respond to some work emails.
Hornsby had no doubt left a few emotional meltdowns in his inbox that would need soothing, and his work calendar would need rearranging if he was going to London. The sooner the better.
Hours had passed when Nic’s stomach grumbled with hunger. He imagined Alexys might be hungry too, he didn’t trust her to cook herself a proper meal in her current state.
He found her curled up, under no less than three blankets, soundly asleep.
He smiled. He liked seeing her there, in his house, sleeping on his couch.
Somehow, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Sitting down beside her, he gently removed the journal from beneath her hand and placed it on the coffee table.
He sat back, studying her face in sleep, reaching out to brush back a stray hair.
Her nose scrunched up at the feeling of his fingers on her skin, and Nic smiled at the expression.
Alexys made the same face when he said something she found particularly irritating, a dramatic scrunch of her nose and furrow of her brow.
He’d never met someone so expressive, every emotion painted so clearly on her face.
He pulled the blankets up a bit further and let his eyes wander over her features, taking a quiet moment to observe her uninterrupted.
To remind himself that she was alright, and that she had survived.
Her long lashes fanned out across lightly freckled cheeks.
Her auburn hair, which he knew now to be the warmest copper in the sunlight, was thrown across her left shoulder. Her mouth was parted just slightly.
What did they call it? An Eros bow?
Nic thought of their unexpected kiss in the mine. Neither one of them had mentioned it, and yet he’d thought of it at least a dozen times since it happened. He wanted to trace his fingertip along her lips then, just to feel their softness again.
He resisted, only just.
Nic knew this would be her first night of deep, nightmare-free sleep, and he wanted her to enjoy it.
“Nic.”
He swallowed. He wasn’t used to hearing his name in her mouth.
It did strange things to his pulse. She rolled toward him, absently, and her hand reached out toward him.
He wanted to tell her right there and then how he felt.
He wanted to kiss her again, without the pretense of a life-threatening injury.
He wanted so much, in that moment, but …
Her hand. She was holding his hand.
Another type of hope, something burning and rooted deep inside him, took hold of him then. Thoughts of spiders and conferences faded completely as he looked down at the woman that had been willing to give her own life for his.
He sighed.
There was so much that needed to be said, but it’d just have to wait.
Once they’d returned to the office and regained a sense of normalcy, they would talk. He would be patient if it meant he could have more of her.
More of the bickering and the tenderness.
More of her in his space.
More of whatever she would give him of herself. He could wait until she was ready, and until then, he would let her sleep.