7. Crypt Keeper
CRYPT KEEPER
The next morning, I awoke with a start. Sweat soaked my sleeping clothes and sheets, making my back sting. Visions of the nightmare lingered in my head. Blood soaked the bayou as a voice on the wind whispered a warning.
Death was coming for me.
Let it. I’d be waiting.
With a heavy sigh, I hoped that the last few days were all part of the nightmare I'd just awoken from, and not the strange reality that my life had become. I ran a shaking hand over my face. Fuck.
“I’m hungry,” a belligerent voice demanded in my ear, and I jumped.
“Fucking hell!” I shouted, forgetting she was there. “Didn’t your parents teach you to knock?”
“I did. You didn’t answer,” she huffed. “I thought you were dead.”
Though it was said in a child’s petulant tone, my wolf’s ears picked up the slight tremor in her words. The slight racing of her small heart. I glanced over and into the golden eyes of the kid I’d been saddled with.
Shit. Her parents were dead. I wasn’t even sure if she knew. The woman who dropped her off hadn’t said, and Hack insanely hadn’t been able to find her. It was like she’d dropped off the face of the earth.
This was also the worst time for me to have a kid tagging along with me anywhere. I’d been having the strange sensation that I was being followed for months. There hadn't been anything concrete, but my inner wolf had been restless and watchful. Now I knew about Katalina, and it all made sense.
Yet I had a feeling that if Katalina disappeared for too long, others would come looking for her.
The first night, the kid stayed with Mako and Lyra. But I guess last night, she tried to bite Lyra when she thought she was taking her food. Mako said it might be best if she were with me. Best? I thought it was a terrible idea.
I sighed. “Okay, I’m getting up.”
I’d already kicked off my covers, so I rolled out of bed and grabbed a clean shirt that wasn’t soaked. She was right on my heels until I went into the bathroom. Then she stopped in her tracks and waited.
“You can go sit in the kitchen,” I told her as I shut the door. My wolf hearing could pick up her breathing. She was waiting. Whatever.
After pissing, I pulled off the dirty shirt, washed my hands, and turned my back to the mirror. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw exactly what I was afraid I’d see. What appeared to be the same markings as what had appeared on Katalina.
Fuck.
I’d have to deal with that later. As I shuffled to the kitchen, her feet padded on the floor behind me.
“Pancakes, eggs, and sausage, okay?” I asked her.
Quiet and watchful, she nodded.
“Okay, get me the eggs and milk,” I told her as I pointed to the fridge. Then I grabbed a bowl and the rest of the things I needed from the cupboards. When I turned, it was to see her struggling with both the gallon of milk and the eggs.
“I didn’t mean both at once,” I explained as I saved the egg carton right before it slipped to the ground, then took the milk. “Sit.”
“I wanna help,” she insisted.
Glancing down, I saw her big, sad, golden eyes looking up at me and sighed. “Fine. Get a chair.”
A huge grin filled her face, and she raced to do as I instructed. She helped me through every step. “My mom lets me help her make stuff.”
“Oh?” She said “lets,” not “used to let.” Did that mean she didn’t know?
“Yeah.” She was quiet as she stirred the pancakes. Then she asked in a small voice, “When is my mom coming to get me?”
Well, shit. And there was my answer.
“Umm, I’m not sure. What did your aunt tell you?” I hedged, trying to buy some time with my answer.
“Rita?”
“Your aunt’s name was Rita?” I asked. Hack assumed she had given us a false last name when she came because he couldn’t find any information about her.
He only found information about the parents through the kid’s birth certificate and social. There was no record of the father having a sister of any kind.
The death of the girl’s parents was found in a police report that described what they assumed was a mugging gone wrong.
There was no tangible evidence at the scene.
Case essentially closed. I wasn’t sure how a seemingly young couple found with their heads completely removed from their bodies was a “mugging gone wrong,” but whatever.
Everything about this situation was weird.
“That’s what she said.”
“How did you end up at her house?” I asked her, trying my best to sound friendly and nonchalant.
Zara shrugged. “I woke up there after the people came and got me from school. She told me my mom asked her to babysit, but she didn’t know when they would be back. I miss my mom.”
My heart broke for her. I understood that feeling. My mom had left me with my dad when I was around her age.
“That wasn’t your dad’s sister that brought you to the clubhouse?”
“My dad had a sister?” she asked me.
Shock hit me. “Um, I guess so?”
She blinked up at me. “Oh.”
What the fuck was going on?
“Did your mom or dad ever talk to you about what would happen as you got older?” I asked her, trying to feel out what she knew.
“Like what?” she asked as I poured the first pancake on the now sizzling pan. “Can you make Mickey Mouse ones?”
“Uhh, well, I’ll try,” I winced inwardly. I did the best I could, but honestly, they looked more like a dick and balls than Mickey Mouse. Thankfully, she didn’t notice.
We finished making the pancakes, and I made the rest before I set the plates on the table.
Zara ate like she didn’t trust the food would still be there if she took her time.
Small hands wrapped tightly around the fork, shoulders hunched over her plate like someone might take it from her if she blinked wrong. Eggs, microwave sausage links—nothing fancy—but she tore through it like she’d gone days without anything real.
She’d eaten at Mako’s the first night. But who knew what she’d been through in the time leading up to that?
I leaned back in the chair across from her, arms folded, watching without making it obvious.
The house was quiet. Too quiet for me.
Dalton and Ryian were out of town with Anson for a couple of weeks on a vacation to Europe. That left the place empty except for me.
And now… her.
Zara.
A five-year-old who had shown up at our doorstep like something out of a story that should’ve stayed buried. I was letting her stay in my nephew’s room, but I knew I had to figure something out before they got back. I was hoping Hack would get some answers for me and that wouldn’t be an issue.
She didn’t move like a kid.
Didn’t breathe like one either.
Every now and then, her head tilted slightly like she was listening to something deeper than sound. Her eyes flicked to the door, then the window, then back to her plate. Her nostrils flared a bit.
Tracking.
Scenting.
My jaw tightened. Yeah… I knew that instinct.
“Slow down,” I told her.
She froze. Not startled. Assessing.
Then she looked up at me, pale eyes locking onto mine.
“I am,” she replied.
Lie. But she slowed anyway.
Good.
Deciding to take a different route than I had earlier with my questioning, I reached for my coffee, letting the silence sit. No pressure. No questions. Just space.
Predators don’t like being cornered.
And Zara?
She didn’t know what she was yet. But I was pretty sure I did. And her body was starting to figure it out too.
“You like it here?” I asked.
Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “It’s quiet.”
Something in my chest shifted at that.
“Too quiet?” I asked.
As she chewed her food, I could see her thinking about it. Then she shook her head.
“No.”
Yeah. That tracked too. I pushed my plate aside.
“You won’t be here long today,” I told her. “You’re going to stay with my friend Lily for a bit.”
Her expression softened just a fraction.
“Okay.”
No questions. No fear. Just trust.
I didn’t like how that sat in my chest. Didn’t like that I didn’t want to break it. My phone buzzed against the table. Saved me from thinking too hard about that.
I glanced down. Hack. I stood, grabbing it.
“Eat,” I told Zara. “I’ll be right back. I’ll just be right out there,” I explained, motioning to the back door.
She nodded, already focused on finishing what was left.
I stepped out onto the back porch, shutting the door behind me before answering, “Talk, brother.”
Hack didn’t waste time.
“I got something,” he said, keys clacking in the background. “Actually, I got a lot—and none of it makes sense.”
“That tracks,” I muttered. “A lot doesn’t make sense.”
“Katalina Kingston first,” he started.
My grip tightened.
“She’s real. Documented movement, multiple countries, aliases—but a consistent pattern. She shows up, something dies, she disappears.”
“Werewolves,” I filled in, knowing exactly what he was talking about.
“Yeah… except not exactly,” Hack replied. “No confirmed bodies. Just… missing things. Like she erases the evidence.”
Of course she did.
“What else?”
“She’s not human,” Hack said flatly.
I leaned against the railing.
“Yeah. I figured that out already.”
“I can’t pin what she is,” he continued. “But she’s off-grid in a way I’ve never seen. Like she exists around the system instead of in it.”
A ghost. Or something worse. A demon.
“Keep digging,” I sighed. “But I’m pretty sure she’s a demon.”
No, I knew she was, but I didn’t want to explain how I knew that. I’d been reluctant to admit it because I was afraid he would involve Haidyn. “Can we keep this between us until I have more information?”
“Damn, okay. No problem,” Hack replied. “But that’s not why I called.”
My gaze drifted back through the window.
Zara sat at the table, legs swinging slightly under the chair, but her head was tilted again.
Listening.
To me.
“Zara,” I guessed.
Hack exhaled. “Yeah.”
“Tell me.”
“I pulled everything I could find on the parents,” he said. “Went through everything again. Birth records, medical history, background. Clean. Too clean.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It does this time,” Hack cut in. “They’re human, Crypt. Completely. No markers. No anomalies. Nothing buried. Their lines have no connections to shifters.”
The words landed heavy.
“What are you saying?” I asked.