19. Katalina
KATALINA
Over the years, I had survived assassination attempts. Petty demon wars. Ancient monsters. A Romanian coven that had once tried to poison me over a card game.
Yet somehow… I was losing a battle against a five-year-old.
“You’re doing it wrong,” the little tyrant insisted.
Dumbfounded, I looked down at the sandwich in my hand. Then at Zara. Then back at the sandwich. “I fail to see how one can make a sandwich incorrectly.”
Zara sighed. Actually sighed. Like the child was five and already disappointed in me.
“You put the cheese on before the meat.”
“…And?” My nails strummed the countertop in the surprisingly high-tech kitchen the clubhouse had set up.
She stared.
I stared back.
The silence stretched. Finally, Zara shook her head. “Crypt was right.”
My eyes narrowed. “What did Crypt say?”
“That you don’t know how to ‘people.’”
The little monster. I pointed the knife at her. “Your Crypt is developing a dangerous habit of talking about me.”
Darkly mischievous for a small child, she grinned. “He likes you.”
I nearly dropped the knife. “No,” I insisted. Though a small little devil in the back of my head gleefully tickled the mark along my spine.
“Yes, he does.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Yes-huh.”
“Yes-huh is not a word.” I considered arguing further.
Then realized I was debating relationship dynamics with a child. A child who was somehow winning. Again.
Fucking hell.
The afternoon passed surprisingly quickly.
Somewhere between making sandwiches, reading half a dozen picture books, and listening to Zara explain why raccoons were superior to most humans, I found myself relaxing. It was quite disturbing.
I didn’t relax.
I didn’t sit in kitchens.
I didn’t discuss raccoons.
And I certainly didn’t allow children to curl up beside me while reading. Yet here I was.
When had this happened? More importantly—how had Gideon allowed this tiny creature to obviously completely dismantle his life?
Because she had. I could see it now. The way everyone watched her. Protected her. Worried about her. Especially him.
A strange ache settled in my chest. Because for the first time in a very long time… I thought I understood why.
“Are you staying?”
The question caught me completely off guard. I looked down. Zara sat cross-legged on the floor with a coloring book spread out before her. Her gaze remained fixed on the page. Like the question wasn’t important. Like she didn’t care about the answer. Which meant she cared very much.
My throat tightened unexpectedly. “I-I-I don’t know,” I stuttered.
It was the truth. The only truth I had.
The child nodded slowly. “I hope you do.”
Just like that. Simple. Honest. No manipulation. No hidden meaning. No agenda.
I hope you do.
The words hit harder than they should have. Because nobody had ever said that to me. Not that I could remember. Not in decades anyway. Maybe not ever. Well, besides my uncle, but he didn’t count.
Something in my chest twisted painfully. I looked away before she noticed.
While she continued with her art project, I was researching everything I could about Rougarous and the mythology of the curse that “created them.”
Then it happened. A sharp pull. Deep inside my chest. I froze. The feeling vanished.
I frowned. What was that?
The bond had felt strange all day. Different. Stronger. But this… this felt painfully wrong.
Almost like—unsurmountable distance. I pushed the thought away.
Gideon was fine. Annoying. Stubborn. Entirely too large. But fine.
Boomslang, Killswitch, and Hack had been poring over old maps and computer screens since the moment the boys had left.
The sensation hit again. Harder. Sharper. So hard, I sucked in a sharp breath.
Zara immediately looked up. Children noticed everything. Especially this one. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I insisted.
A lie. Perhaps an obvious one. Because the feeling lingered. A cold unease spread beneath my skin. Something definitely wasn’t right.
I couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t identify it. But I knew enough to trust my instincts—and every instinct I possessed was suddenly screaming. Goosebumps spread across my cheeks, down my arms and body.
While I debated reaching out to my uncle, I also contemplated talking to Boomslang. Though he wasn’t my biggest fan.
I got the chance to do neither.
The clubhouse doors slammed open, the sound echoed through the building like a shot from a cannon. Immediately, every head turned.
Mine included.
Boots thundered across the floor. Rapid voices. Hurried movement. Chaos.
Without conscious thought, I was already standing. Something was very, very wrong.
I knew it. I knew it. The second Mako appeared, I knew.
His face was grim. Dexter looked furious. Thing One looked ready to kill someone. And none of them—not a single one of them—had Gideon with them.
The room seemed to tilt. Only slightly. Yet enough.
“Where is he?” I asked, my throat feeling like I was speaking around crushed glass.
Nobody answered. A mistake. A terrible mistake, because suddenly every ounce of control I’d maintained began slipping.
Heat flooded my veins. My eyes deepened, their intense focus making every detail in the room crystal clear, telling me they had darkened. Power stirred beneath my skin.
“Where. Is. He?” I repeated, not recognizing my own voice.
Mako’s gaze snapped toward me. The room went very still. Even Boomslang looked concerned. Finally, Mako spoke.
“Crypt got separated,” he explained in a calm manner. The problem was, his eyes gave away his concern.
The words punched straight through my chest.
Separated.
No. Not separated. Taken.
The bond confirmed it. I felt it then. Distance. Pain. Fear. Not mine. His.
It was faint and muted. As if it were somehow suppressed. Yet it was there. Still there. Which meant he was alive.
For now. The realization nearly brought me to my knees.
Nobody noticed Zara at first. Everyone was too focused on the crisis. The rescue. The implications. But I noticed. Because suddenly she wasn’t moving. The child stood perfectly still beside me. Hands clenched into tiny fists. Eyes wide. Scared.
And that frightened me more than anything else. Because I had never seen Zara scared.
Finally, she spoke. Quietly. “Is Crypt hurt?”
Silence. Nobody answered. Which told me, nobody knew.
And somehow that answer was worse.
The child swallowed hard. Then looked at all of us. “Are we going to get him back?”
The question landed like a challenge. A promise. A demand. Every person in that room understood it. Failure wasn’t an option. Not this time. Not with him.
Mako finally explained. The tunnels. The wards. The explosion. The collapse. The silver. The trap. Then he said, “Right before the second explosion that collapsed the tunnel, a man stepped out of the dark.”
My blood turned to ice… because I already knew. Before he described him. Before anyone else understood. I knew.
“Rafael.”
Every one of the Kings stopped. No speaking. No movement.
Every eye turned toward me. I stared at nothing. Seeing everything. Training halls. Blood. Lessons. Orders.
The man who had taught me everything about who I was today. The man who made me into a deadly weapon. The man who had given me Gideon’s name. The man connected to this nightmare. The man who now had my mate.
“The full moon is in two days’ time,” I murmured, sure it wasn’t a coincidence that they had taken Gideon at this time. My mind went to the prison of his own making in the shack. The measures he took to keep the people around him safe.
I’d never seen him as a Rougarou, and I’d never encountered one in all my years. I had no idea what he was like, or what he was capable of, and I worried what they would do to him.
“God help them,” Spook muttered.
God help them? He didn’t know Rafael like I did.
As a demon, I’d never been one to pray. Yet that night, I might have whispered a few up to whatever might be listening.