Page 29 of Property of Crypt Keeper

My gaze drifted in the direction of the swamps. To the woman locked in my cell deep in the shadows. To the mark I’d seen on her back and the heat still branded into my spine.

“Wasn’t planning to,” I assured him. I decided not to mention my suspicions about the kid yet. I’d already dumped enough on him. Besides, it was only a feeling. I could be wrong.

“Dallas… are you still with that gang?” he asked me. The same shit that always came up when we talked. Because my mother had left him for a biker, he despised me being in a club. The fact that the biker had turned out to be a demon as well made me keep that tidbit about Katalina to myself.

I ended the call and stood there for a second longer, the night pressing in around me.

My wolf stirred again.

Restless.

Possessive.

And for the first time in a long time—uncertain.

After running a hand through my hair in frustration, I stepped back inside.

Zara had finished eating. Both plates clean. She was still watching me. Always watching, it seemed. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she was just a shifter.

“Ready?” I asked.

She nodded and slid off the chair. No hesitation. No fear. Just trust.

That feeling in my chest tightened again. I grabbed my keys, then led her into my nephew’s room where I borrowed one of his little leather jackets and a pair of his boots. They’d probably be a bit big, but they were better than the cheap little shoes she showed up in.

“I need you to put these on. We’re going for a ride.”

She nodded as she hugged the clothes to her chest.

“You need help?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you,” I told her before heading through the house and out the front door to where my bike was parked. I put the sissy-rest on the back, making sure it was on securely. Then I went up to see if she was ready.

She was swung the door open as I reached for it. A big chunk of curls fell over her eye and, inwardly, I cursed for not thinking about that.

“Here,” I grumbled, digging in my pocket. “Turn around.”

She did as instructed, and I hastily braided her hair. It wasn’t the best job, but it would keep it from getting too tangled. Then I took my helmet and plopped it on her head. I tried not to laugh as it slid forward, obscuring her eyes.

I righted it and tightened the straps as much as I could. It wasn’t ideal, but I would be cautious and take the back roads to avoid traffic as best as I could. My truck was at the clubhouse. Looked like I’d be driving it home tonight. Glancing at my bike, I sighed.

Using the other hairband, I pulled mine back as well.

“Let’s go.”

I lifted her to the small passenger seat and took a small ratchet strap from my saddlebag. “I’m going to hell,” I muttered as I wrapped it around her hips and the backrest, then tightened it the best I could.

I climbed on in front of her. “You hang on and don’t let go until I tell you to. Okay?”

“Okay.” Her voice was small, but sure. Like she understood far more than a child her age should.

The engine roared to life beneath me, and we pulled out of the driveway.

Zara sat behind me, small hands gripping my cut.

Steady.