Page 12 of Something Worth Keeping
“Where did you get this? Actually, don’t answer that. Plausible deniability is important when receiving stolen antiquities.” Julian paused. “Although I suppose if I’m providing body disposal advice, worrying about stolen books is somewhat hypocritical.”
He opened the book again, carefully turning pages. The text was in English but included diagrams and symbols that predated the translation - original elements from earlier Latin versions: prayers, invocations, instructions for summoning various forms of divine knowledge. Medieval scholars believed the book could grant an understanding of all arts and sciences through angelic intervention.
Julian had always found it fascinating how humans tried to systematize thesupernatural. They seemed to have an innate need to create rules and rituals for forces they didn’t understand. And now here he was, receiving gifts from a shadow being that probably predated this book by millennia.
“The irony isn’t lost on me,” he told the shadows.
A sudden movement caught his eye, and he realized there was something else on the balcony table, something he’d missed in his focus on the book. Julian returned outside. The weather wasn’t getting any warmer, and the cold air gave him goosebumps on his exposed skin.
A leather wallet sat where the book had been. A unisex version that looked expensive. Julian picked it up and opened it.
Patricia Holbrook’s driver’s license stared back at him.
Oh, my goodness.Julian had a sudden urge to cover his mouth and laugh out loud. His heart rate spiked, but he wasn’t scared. No, he might be worried about admitting it to anyone else, but there was a definite sense of satisfaction lodged in the middle of his chest.
He flipped through the wallet’s contents. Credit cards, insurance cards, sixty-three dollars in cash, and a coffee shop loyalty card that was two stamps away from a free drink.
His fingers tightened on the leather. The shadows had taken the wallet from Patricia, recently, based on the date stamp on a receipt from yesterday morning. Which meant they’d gone to her, had gotten close enough to lift her wallet, all because she’d suspended him.
“Did you hurt her?” Julian asked the air.
The shadows in his apartment darkened and rippled against the wall. Julian got the impression they hadn’t. The idea of redistributing her belongings floated through his brain.
Julian examined the wallet more closely. There wasn’t any blood or damage. He imagined the shadows had pickpocketed his supervisor, likely when she was walking through a parking lot, or perhaps when going to get her coffee. Then they’d delivered the evidence to him like a cat presenting a dead mouse. Julian was getting definite cat vibes from the shadows.
There was a part of Julian, the part that always tried so hard to fit in with societal expectations, that knew he probably should feel guilty. Instead, Julian felt that same calm certainty he’d experienced in the alley - the recognition that the shadows operated on a justice scale thataligned perfectly with his own rigid sense of right and wrong. The shadows believed Patricia had been unfair to him - and they weren’t wrong. She had been. So, the shadows had corrected the imbalance in their own way.
“You do realize this wallet is evidence of a crime,” Julian said, but he was already walking back inside, the wallet in hand. “I should return or report it.”
The shadows practically radiated skepticism. They already knew they had nothing to fear. Julian set the wallet on his desk next to the priceless manuscript. “It would appear you’re trying to court me with stolen goods and petty revenge. That’s...” he searched for the right word. “Charming. In a deeply concerning way.”
He sat down, looking at both gifts. The book showed an understandingof who he was and what he valued. The wallet showed that the shadows had marked him as worth defending. Most people would run, call the police, or seek help. Julian knew that from an academic perspective.
He pulled out his phone and took photos of the book’s title page and two internal diagrams. Then he opened his notes app and began cataloging every detail. Because if a supernatural entity was courting him with valuable stolen goods and acts of protective larceny, the least he could do was document the experience properly.
“We should establish some ground rules,” Julian said out loud as his fingers flew across the keyboard. “First, no hurting people unless they’re genuinely dangerous. Patricia is rude and mediocre at her job, but that doesn’t justify violence. Second, if you’re going to keep bringing mestolen books, I need provenance information so I can track the rightful ownership. Third...” He paused, checking. “Third, you should probably manifest at some point so we can have an actual conversation instead of me talking to shadows like a person who’s lost touch with reality.”
The shadows moved across his floor, reaching toward him. Julian held still as they brushed against his ankle. It was a very cool sensation and definitely gentle. The touch sent sparks up his spine, and he got goosebumps that had nothing to do with being cold.
“I felt that,” Julian said unnecessarily. He coughed to clear the sudden lump in his throat. “You’re touching me.”
The shadows retreated immediately. Julian caught himself reaching after them. “Wait. I didn’t say stop. I was just...making an observation.”
They crept back, more hesitant now. Julian extended his hand, palm down, and watched the shadows pool beneath it. When they rose to meet his skin, he didn’t flinch. The sensation was like silk, or as if he had his hand in water that didn’t make him wet. It took a moment to comprehend that it was actually happening, because shadows were simply an absence of light, yet Julian could feel their touch.
“There,” Julian said softly. “See? I’m not running away.”
The shadows wrapped around his wrist, a gentle bracelet of living night. Julian’s heart rate picked up, but he still wasn’t scared, and maybe that spoke volumes about the way his brain worked, but he was sure excitement was the best word to describe how he felt. It was as if he realized that something special had just happened.
“You’re my shadow guardian,” he said. “And I’m your...what? Your beacon? That’s what the research suggested. A light that balances darkness - a truth that anchors the shadows.”
The shadows pulsed against his skin, and Julian took that as confirmation that his ideas were right.
“All right then.” Julian took a breath. “Then we should probably discuss what happens next. Because I don’t actually understand supernatural courtship protocols, and I’d prefer clear communication over guessing.”
Chapter Six
Cillian materialized in the entry corridor of Shadow House at 3:47 a.m., still vibrating with the echo of Julian’s touch. His beacon hadreached for him. He had invited the contact. Cillian could still recall the sensation when Julian touched his shadows - shadows that could flay a man to bones - and treat him with kindness.
