Page 15 of Property of Crypt Keeper

4

KATALINA

From deep in the shadows, I watched and waited. He was rarely alone. He’d also managed to give me the slip the other night. He’d gone into the clubhouse and come back out with the vampire. They had disappeared into the swamp. I’d tried to track them, but it seemed like their scent was everywhere and nowhere.

Good thing I was patient. Despite Rafael’s insistence, I had time.

A car pulled up as I waited. An older woman appeared to be talking to herself, then glanced into the back seat before she got out. She was terrified—genuine fear, not manipulation. I could smell it from where I hid. Yet, there was something off about the whole situation.

She went inside, then came out with several of the bikers. When she opened the car door and a young child got out, I was confused.

I’d tried to listen to what was said, but I was a bit too far away. If I wasn’t mistaken, I thought they called the child Zara and something about bringing her to Gideon.

I squinted my eyes and tilted my head as I tried to hear why someone would bring a young child to the wolf. If the woman was trying to sell the child, she had come to the wrong place. Though these bikers were, in my opinion, uncivilized, they were not traffickers. At least not from what I’d seen so far.

Several of the club members, including Gideon, took the child inside while the woman waited out front in the gravel lot. Not much surprised me these days, but when I watched her toss out a bag and haul ass, my jaw dropped.

The Kings of Anarchy had been as surprised as I was when they came running out as the bag was swallowed by the dust. They’d gone back inside, and the anger had pulsed off them in waves.

Later, one of their women exited their clubhouse with the little girl in tow. Despite the way my lip curled at the scent of the vampires, I wasn’t interested in them. Her male followed them on his bike when she drove off.

Gideon remained at the clubhouse talking quietly out front with two other males. Eventually, they all got on their bikes, and I slipped from my hiding spot, raced through the trees, and into my vehicle. From my position, I could see when they pulled out of the compound and onto the blacktop.

The motorcycles’ engines faded into the dark Louisiana road, and I followed.

Because I had a hunt to finish.

As I drove in the direction the bikes had taken, I thought about what I’d seen. The child had arrived unexpectedly. That alone made me pause.

If Gideon Bourque—Crypt Keeper—was the monster that Rafael claimed, he wouldn’t have allowed a child anywhere near his den. He would’ve terminated it. Werewolves were dirty, nasty creatures with no conscience or refinement. They were, after all, created in an attempt to annihilate demons—something we demons kept under close wraps after our ancestors’ attempt to wipe out the werewolves thousands of years ago failed.

But it seemed monsters were rarely what the stories said they were. And Gideon Bourque… was certainly not what I had expected.

Curiosity beyond piqued, I followed the scent of the exhaust and the wolf-man I’d been hunting. It didn’t take long to track him.

The rumble of his bike carried down the highway like distant thunder as I closed in. I followed at a careful distance, headlights off, letting the darkness swallow my car as they turned into a parking lot just inside the city limits.

A bar. Why was I not surprised?

Rusted metal siding clad the building, and a neon sign flickered above the door—the kind of place where bikers drank cheap whiskey and no one asked questions.

A smile lifted the corners of my lips. Perfect.

I parked at the back of the surprisingly crowded lot and pulled off my black long-sleeve shirt. After tossing it in the back seat, I untucked the black tank top I wore beneath. Then I unbraided my hair and let the black tresses fall in loose waves.

Glancing in the mirror, I quickly swiped blood-red lipstick on and added a coat of mascara. When I sat back to look at myself, I figured it would have to do. I considered changing my appearance. Though it wouldn’t matter. He would smell that it was me in no time.

Ignoring the odd way my heart sped up, I walked toward the muted music and laughter, boots quiet against gravel.

Inside, the air was thick with smoke and beer. Music rattled the old speakers overhead while a handful of locals crowded the pool table. Almost all of the mismatched tables were full.

And there he was. There was already a female hanging all over him.

Gideon Bourque sat at the bar next to two of his brothers—one broad-shouldered with a shaved head, the other tall, with a scar down his cheek. Zeus and Bronx, if the intel I’d gathered was correct.

But my attention stayed on him and the blonde who was doing her best to engage him.

He hadn’t seen me yet.