Page 80 of Property of Crypt Keeper

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.

20

CRYPT KEEPER

Consciousness came back in pieces. Sound first. A low mechanical hum. Dripping water. The distant whir of a ventilation system.

Then smell. Bleach. Blood. Silver. Something with a heavy chemical smell that burned the back of my throat.

My wolf came awake violently. Not gradually. Not confused. One second there was darkness. The next, the beast inside me slammed against my ribs so hard my body jerked.

Bad idea. Pain exploded through my shoulders, wrists, ribs.

I opened my eyes. Concrete ceiling. Fluorescent light. Metal restraints.

My arms were stretched wide and locked into silver-lined cuffs bolted to a steel frame. My ankles were secured the same way. A thick band wrapped around my chest with heavy chains that connected to the frame, another around my throat, holding me upright at an angle that kept my feet barely touching the floor.

Hanging in tatters, my shirt was barely covering me. The way my back burned, I wondered if they’d literally dragged me back here.

My vision sharpened. Tables lined the room, some with straps and shackles attached. Trays of instruments. Vials. Scales. Medical refrigeration units.

Not a cell. A fucking lab.

Except unlike a normal lab, this one had warding sigils painted in careful, precise lines along the walls. Not sloppy witchcraft. Nor was it panic magic. This was controlled. Layered. Designed.

My wolf snarled. The sound vibrated up my throat, but the collar bit down instantly. Silver burned into my skin, stealing the growl before it could fully form.

Knowing it was useless, I tested the restraints anyway.