Page 39 of Property of Crypt Keeper
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.
