9. Crypt Keeper
CRYPT KEEPER
The shack disappeared behind me, swallowed by cypress and shadow, but Katalina didn’t leave my mind with it.
She was still there.
Pressed under my skin like a second pulse.
Her scent. Her voice. The way she’d said “Gideon” like she knew exactly how it got under my skin.
And that mark.
After I pulled out of the narrow dirt road, I gunned the throttle. Every time I rode alone, I was extra cautious because I knew if anything went wrong, Boomslang would lose his shit.
The road blurred beneath me, black asphalt cutting through the swamp like a scar. I didn’t slow down. Didn’t think too hard either. Because if I did, I wasn’t sure I’d like where my head was going.
My jaw tightened as the bike ate up the distance as I hurried into town.
Fuck… that mark. The one that matched mine. I could still feel it. All along my spine. Faint now, but not gone. Like something living had burned itself into me and decided it belonged there.
Didn’t take a genius to guess what it meant. Didn’t take one to know I didn’t have time to ignore it either.
Full moon was coming. And when it did—that cell? That cage I built to keep everyone else safe? I was going to need it.
Which meant I had a problem. Because right now—Katalina Kingston was in it.
My grip tightened on the handlebars.
Yeah. That wasn’t going to work.
I made a quick pit stop by Dalton’s and then was back on the road, heading back toward the KOAMC compound.
The clubhouse came into view through the trees, the late afternoon sunlight glinting off the chrome of motorcycles like little beacons.
Home. Or as close as I got to one. My brother’s house had a room I used, but that was Dalton and Ryian’s home.
Most often, I stayed in my room at the clubhouse.
Since Zara’s appearance, I’d decided to stay at Dalton’s because I didn’t think the clubhouse at night was any place for a young kid.
Soon, they’d be home. If we hadn’t figured out what to do with her, I’d have another problem to deal with.
Finding somewhere suitable for her. For some reason, that didn’t sit well with me either.
Maybe that was because of the seed Katalina had planted in my head. What if Zara was mine? I would be the first to admit that I’d been with a lot of women—most of whom I never exchanged names with or saw again.
I rolled through the gate and cut the engine, letting the silence settle for half a second before heading inside. The place was louder than it had been earlier.
Not chaos. But close. Voices low, tense. Energy tight. Something was off.
Everyone was there, which was odd. I didn’t stop to ask questions. Not yet. I was on a mission at the moment. I went straight for Hack’s room.
The door was half open. He was inside, hunched over his setup, screens casting blue light across his face. He didn’t look up when I stepped in.
“Tell me you didn’t come back with another problem,” he muttered, eyes never leaving his screens.
“I need something,” I admitted.
That got his attention. Hack turned slowly in his chair, brow already furrowing.
“That tone never leads anywhere good,” he muttered. “What do you need now?”
I reached into my cut and pulled out the baggie I’d grabbed from the house. Inside, a small, plastic hairbrush. Zara’s. Hack stared at it. Then at me. Then back at the bag.
“Uhh… Why do you have a kid’s hairbrush?” he asked slowly.
“I need to know where I can get a paternity test,” I replied.
Silence.
Hack blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then he leaned back in his chair like I’d just punched him. He choked out, “You’re joking.”
I didn’t answer. Because I wasn’t.
His eyes sharpened. “Wait… You think she’s yours?”
With a heaved sigh, I ran a hand down my face.
“I don’t know what the hell I think, brother,” I admitted.
That was the truth. Didn’t happen often.
Hack stared at me for a long moment, then swore under his breath.
“Jesus Christ, Crypt,” he muttered. “You don’t do things halfway, do you?”
“Do you know a place or not?” I asked.
He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, thinking.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “I know a place. Quiet. No questions. They won’t log anything official.”
“Location?”
“I’ll text it to you,” he murmured as he pulled out his phone and his thumb rapid-fire tapped out a message. “Downtown. Looks like a dump, but it’s legit.”
My phone buzzed, and I nodded when I saw it was the message from him with the address. I also saw the message from about thirty minutes ago when Killswitch asked everyone to report to the clubhouse. Shit. I’d been so wrapped up in what I’d been dealing with that I’d missed it.
“Good.” I turned to leave.
“Crypt,” Hack called.
I paused.
“You sure you want to know?” he asked.
No. Not even a little.
“Yeah,” I said anyway. Because I needed to know. Not because I wanted to know. Because I needed answers more than I needed comfort at that moment.
As I walked down the hall back toward the common area, I heard Boomslang’s voice cut through the clubhouse like a gunshot.
“Church!”
Everything stopped.
Chairs scraped. Conversations died. The brothers moved without question, forming up in the chapel. I stepped in beside Mako, arms crossed as I leaned against the wall.
Boomslang stood at the head of the table, his expression hard.
“I got a call,” he announced without preamble. “From a contact I don’t hear from often.”
That alone tightened the room. Boomslang didn’t deal with unknown variables unless they were worth it.
“He was in the French Quarter,” Boomslang continued. “Bar down near Decatur. Said he overheard something… interesting.”
No one spoke. No one interrupted.
“He heard someone making a deal,” Boomslang said. “For the delivery of a supernatural.”
A few low murmurs broke out.
“Not just any supernatural,” he added, fingers drumming in an irritated rhythm on the old wood. “A breeding-age supernatural.”
That shut the room up fast.
My stomach went cold.
Boomslang’s gaze swept over us.
“He tried to get closer,” he went on. “Wanted to see faces. But one of them vanished in the crowd. The other—” He paused. “—disappeared.”
The word landed heavy.
“Disappeared. Like what?” Zeus asked.
Boomslang’s jaw tightened.
“Like a puff of smoke.”
Silence. Heavy. Uncomfortable.
“Demon,” someone muttered, speaking aloud what the rest of us were thinking.
“Yeah,” Boomslang agreed. “That’s what I’m thinking.”
My mind was already moving. Breeding-age. Not specific. Not targeted to species. Just—supernatural. Why? Why not pick a type? Why not go after vampires? Or wolves? Or demons? Why just… anything?
My thoughts slid to Zara. Five years old. Not fully grown. Not yet. My jaw tightened. No. Too early. Too far a leap.
But the thought didn’t go away.
Boomslang continued, “My contact told me to be careful. Said if they’re looking for something like that, we’re all sitting here with targets on our backs—”
“We’re already targets,” Zeus cut in.
Others grumbled in agreement.
“Yeah,” Boomslang agreed. “But this is different.”
No one argued. Because it was.
“Eyes open,” Boomslang finished. “No one moves alone. We find out who’s making that deal before they find us.”
“Got it,” Mako said.
The rest of us nodded.
Church was dismissed, and we all filtered out of the room. Some brothers were talking quietly among themselves.
I didn’t wait long.
“Mako,” I called out, catching him before he could move too far.
He turned, reading something in my expression immediately.
“What’s up?”
I glanced around. Lyra wasn’t there. Good. Didn’t need her hearing this. Zara and Lily were upstairs, out of the way. Also good.
“I need to go handle something,” I explained. “Need you to ride with me so Boomslang doesn’t lose his shit.”
Mako snorted.
“Yeah, that he would,” he agreed. “Where we going?”
“You’ll see.”
He studied me for a beat. Then nodded. “Let’s go.”
The ride into the city was quiet as the sun was setting. He didn’t push. Didn’t ask questions. Just got on his bike and rode beside me, steady as hell. That was why I picked him.
We cut through New Orleans traffic and finally slowed in front of a small, nondescript building wedged between a laundromat and a closed liquor store. No sign. No lights in the window. Looked abandoned. According to Hack, it wasn’t.
I killed the engine.
Mako pulled up beside me and shut his bike off. He glanced at the building, then at me.
“What the hell are we doing here?”
I swung off the bike and reached into my cut. Pulled out the baggie again. Held it up.
Mako frowned. “Is that a hairbrush?”
“Zara’s,” I confirmed.
Understanding didn’t hit him right away. Then it did. Slow. Sharp. His eyes snapped to mine.
“What are you doing, Crypt?”
I met his gaze.
“Getting a paternity test.”
Silence.
Mako stared at me like I’d just told him the sky was green.
“You’re serious,” he muttered, dumbfounded.
“Yeah.”
His hand dragged down his face.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “You think she’s yours? You think that’s why Madame Laveaux sent the aunt to you?”
I exhaled slowly.
“I don’t feel sure about anything anymore. We don’t even know if she was actually the girl’s aunt.”
That shut him up. For now. Mako looked at the building again, then back at me. Then he nodded.
“All right,” he grumbled. “Let’s get some answers.”
Jaw tight, I turned toward the door. Yeah. It was about time I had at least one answer.
When we got back to the clubhouse, we backed our bikes under the canopy of the building. We both sat on our bikes for a few seconds as the motors ticked.
“Mako? I have one more favor.”
“Fucking hell, bro. You never ask for a goddamn thing, and now suddenly you’re full of needing help. Are you the real Crypt Keeper? Let me look in those eyes,” he joked as he reached for my face.
I shrugged off his hand and cleared my throat. “This is a big favor. I need you to do something for me, and I need to know I can trust you not to say anything.”
“I’m utterly insulted. That you would feel the need to even question my loyalty to you… well, that… hurts,” he shot back in mock sadness.
With an eye roll, I shook my head. Then I glanced at him. “I need you to swing by my shack. I would do it, but I need to get Zara home.” Damn, that seemed so weird to say. “I need you to check on my… uh… prisoner. I’ll explain later. Just don’t fall for their tricks and let them out.”
“Who do you have in there?” he asked suspiciously.
“It’s a long story that I don’t have time for right now,” I told him as I saw the clubhouse door open and one of the brothers come out and light up a cigarette.
“Fine. But tomorrow I have all the time in the world for this story.”
I gave him a curt nod.
We went in, and I noted that Zara was sitting on one of the couches with Lily getting her hair re-braided. Zara’s eyes locked on mine from across the room, as if she’d immediately sensed me walk in.
As I approached, I watched Lily hurrying to get the band around the end because Zara was already standing up.
“You have fun today?” I asked her.
I was surprised to see her face break out into a huge grin as her eyes lit up. “I did. Lily and I drew pictures, and I got to hang mine on her wall. She said she will keep it forever.”
“Thanks, Lily,” I told the teenager who spent the majority of her free time at the clubhouse because it was the only place she truly felt safe these days.
“Well, kiddo, let’s go home.”
Mako’s brows shot up.
“I mean, back to my brother’s. We’ll pick up some dinner on the way home.”
She picked up my helmet, and I plucked it from her hands. She looked at me in surprise.
“We’ll be leaving this here. We’re taking my truck,” I explained.
She looked momentarily sad.
“Until we get you proper clothes and your own helmet,” I conceded. Then I ignored the jaws that fell as I bustled her outside and into my truck parked around the backside of the building.
Zara was munching on chicken nuggets when my phone rang.
Mako.
I switched it to my phone from the truck’s speakers. When he spoke, I was glad I had.
“Why the fuck do you have a demon bitch in your cage?”