Page 60 of Property of Crypt Keeper

“Well,” he drawled smoothly. His eyes slid back to mine.

“Katalina.” He paused, as he continued smiling. “Still breaking hearts and starting wars, I see.”

Beside me—absolute stillness.

Deadly calm.

Slowly, I turned.

Gideon’s expression had gone completely blank. Which was so much worse. Because I’d already learned something about Gideon Bourque. Blank meant violence was brewing as it considered its options.

Internally, I could practically hear him, “I am going to throw this bastard into the Mississippi.”

And for reasons I absolutely refused to examine—I found that deeply satisfying.

15

KATALINA

The moment Dorian looked at Gideon for too long, I knew this was going to become irritating. Very irritating.

Because Dorian never stared. He observed. Measured. Cataloged. Then filed people away into neat little boxes of value in that ancient brain of his.

But Gideon? Gideon wasn’t going into a box.

Dorian’s gray eyes moved over him once. Twice. Then narrowed almost imperceptibly.

Interesting. He seemed to say without saying a word.

Shit. I knew that look. I folded my arms. “No.”

Dorian blinked slowly. “No what?”

“You made your interesting face.” I made air quotes when I said the word “interesting.”

His mouth twitched slightly. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Liar. Absolute, utter liar.

Beside me, Gideon shifted slightly. His shoulder brushed mine. Subtle. Possessive.

Dorian noticed immediately. Of course he did. That bastard noticed everything. His eyes flicked between us before he slowly slid the book to the side, all but dismissed and forgotten in light of something more intriguing.

“Well,” he smoothly began, “to what do I owe this… unusual… visit?”

Debating how much to reveal, I stared flatly at him before I admitted, “I need information.”

“Ah.” He tilted his head slightly to the side. “There it is.”

My expression passive, I waited for him to continue before offering anything else.

Dorian moved around the counter with measured steps, hands tucked into his pockets, “What kind?”

“Disappearances,” I started with. “Experiments,” I continued.

His expression didn’t change. Didn’t twitch. Nothing. Which somehow made me more suspicious.

“Supernatural trafficking,” I added. Still nothing. Finally, I murmured, “Breeding.”