Page 86 of Property of Crypt Keeper

This was bigger. Older. Rot running under the foundation of the supernatural world.

Rafael wanted power. The Doctor wanted answers. Or perhaps he wanted to play God. Either way, both of them thought I was the blueprint.

The sedative dragged harder through my body. My limbs weakened. My vision blurred at the edges. The Doctor stepped away, speaking to someone I couldn’t see.

“Blood first. Tissue samples. Bone marrow if he survives the draw. Keep him sedated but not unconscious. I want reactions.”

Rafael looked at me one last time. “Your mate will come for you.”

I forced my eyes to stay open. “I hope she does.”

His brow lifted.

I let my mouth curve. “She’ll kill you slowly. And if you get away, she will hunt you down.”

For the first time, Rafael’s smile faded. Not much, but enough. Perhaps because he knew Katalina. He knew I was right.

The darkness crept closer. My wolf raged helplessly inside me.

Katalina. Zara. The club. They weren’t safe. None of them. But if Rafael thought dragging me into some mad scientist’s lab made me helpless, he was dead wrong.

I was SAA of the Kings of Anarchy.

I was Gideon Dallas Bourque.

I was Crypt Keeper.

And monsters should know better than to put another monster in a cage. They always find a way out.

The last thing I heard before the drugs pulled me under was the Doctor’s quiet voice. “Begin extraction.”

21

KATALINA

Last night was the full moon. I hadn’t slept a wink.

Each day, we’d been over maps and theories. We’d searched the old tunnels under New Orleans, branching off from where Gideon had been taken.

Weary, we all sat around the scarred table in the room where the bikers had what they called “church.” We were preparing to expand the search. Several of the brothers were arguing about where we should start.

“For fuck’s sake,” Dexter grumbled. “We’re supposed to be brothers. Perhaps some of you need to go to church.”

The others snorted. I saw the humor, considering the majority of us in the room were what many would consider condemned by God.

But then it hit me. Slowly—very slowly—I looked at Boomslang. “I know where we need to go.”

The president’s expression hardened. “Where?”

My voice was cold. Sharper than any blade I’d ever carried. “The last place Rafael ever took me.”

The words hung in the air. Every eye in the room settled on me.

Boomslang leaned forward slightly. “And where exactly is that?”

For the first time since Mako uttered Rafael’s name, I hesitated. Not because I was hiding anything. Because I suddenly felt very, very stupid. How many times had I been there?

Four? Five? Maybe more.