Page 52 of Monster Mania

“Because Viper designed it for you,” he said. Angel stared down at the letter.

The witch points the way, but the dead keep the truth.

Her father loved Halloween and the treasure hunts. She just needed to figure out how the key fit into everything. And then, there was her father's house and the clubhouse. Something tugged at the edge of her memory, something she'd forgotten, but now she remembered. “Oh, my God.”

Crow frowned. “What?”

Angel looked at him. “The graveyard.”

“What graveyard?” he asked.

“The fake one.” His expression went blank, and Angel's heart started racing. “Every Halloween, Dad built a cemetery behind the Nomad Knights clubhouse. It had fake headstones, skeletons, and fog machines. He made it bigger every year.”

Crow stared at her. “I remember.” Angel closed her eyes. She could see it almost like she was sixteen again and her father was laughing while she painted names on plywood tombstones. She remembered Gabriel sneaking up behind her and Crow complaining about having to dig holes for decorations. But there was one headstone that her father never let anyone move.

“The dead keep the truth,” she whispered.

Crow seemed to understand. “Fuck,” he breathed.

Angel looked at him. “The key doesn't belong to my father's house.”

“You think it opens something beneath the graveyard?” he asked.

“I don't know,” she admitted. A vehicle engine sounded outside, and Crow immediately drew his gun. Angel froze. “You expecting someone?”

“No,” he said. Headlights swept across the broken barn wall. Crow grabbed her arm and pulled her behind an old tractor. “Stay down,” he ordered.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“I don't know.” A truck stopped outside, and the doors opened. Angel counted as at least four men got out of the vehicle. Crow checked his weapon. “There's another gun under the tractor.”

Angel dropped to her knees and her hand swept underneath until her fingers hit metal. She pulled out a handgun. “Is it loaded?”

“Yes,” he whispered. Footsteps approached, and Angel's heart pounded. Crow looked at her. “If this goes bad, there's a door behind the workbench.”

“I'm not leaving you,” she insisted.

“Viper told me you'd say that,” Crow said.

“Then he should've known better than to tell you to ask,” she said. The barn doors creaked open, and Angel raised the gun. A man stepped inside, but she couldn't see his face—only his silhouette.

Then a familiar voice cut through the darkness. “Angelina?”

Her blood froze, and Crow whispered one word. “Fuck.” Angel knew that voice. She hadn't heard it in seven years, but she'd never forgotten it. The man stepped into the orange glow of the jack-o'-lanterns. He was older, with gray at his temples, and a Nomad Knights kutte on his shoulders with the President patch over his heart.

Caleb “Razor” Mercer smiled at her. “There's my girl.” Angel tightened her grip on the gun, and Razor looked at Crow. His smile quickly disappeared. “I always knew you weren't dead,” he said to Crow. Three Nomad Knights entered behind him. Crow raised his weapon, but Razor didn't even flinch. Instead, he looked back at Angel. “You've caused me a lot of trouble.”

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing,” she spat.

He smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “You look like Viper.”

“Don't say his name,” she hissed.

“Why? Because Crow told you I killed him?” he asked.

Angel's finger settled against the trigger. “Did you?”

Razor laughed softly, and then he shook his head. “No, sweetheart, I didn’t kill your father.”