Page 79 of Property of Crypt Keeper

Gideon was fine. Annoying. Stubborn. Entirely too large. But fine.

Boomslang, Killswitch, and Hack had been poring over old maps and computer screens since the moment the boys had left.

The sensation hit again. Harder. Sharper. So hard, I sucked in a sharp breath.

Zara immediately looked up. Children noticed everything. Especially this one. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I insisted.

A lie. Perhaps an obvious one. Because the feeling lingered. A cold unease spread beneath my skin. Something definitely wasn’t right.

I couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t identify it. But I knew enough to trust my instincts—and every instinct I possessed was suddenly screaming. Goosebumps spread across my cheeks, down my arms and body.

While I debated reaching out to my uncle, I also contemplated talking to Boomslang. Though he wasn’t my biggest fan.

I got the chance to do neither.

The clubhouse doors slammed open, the sound echoed through the building like a shot from a cannon. Immediately, every head turned.

Mine included.

Boots thundered across the floor. Rapid voices. Hurried movement. Chaos.

Without conscious thought, I was already standing. Something was very, very wrong.

I knew it. I knew it. The second Mako appeared, I knew.

His face was grim. Dexter looked furious. Thing One looked ready to kill someone. And none of them—not a single one of them—had Gideon with them.

The room seemed to tilt. Only slightly. Yet enough.

“Where is he?” I asked, my throat feeling like I was speaking around crushed glass.

Nobody answered. A mistake. A terrible mistake, because suddenly every ounce of control I’d maintained began slipping.

Heat flooded my veins. My eyes deepened, their intense focus making every detail in the room crystal clear, telling me they had darkened. Power stirred beneath my skin.

“Where. Is. He?” I repeated, not recognizing my own voice.

Mako’s gaze snapped toward me. The room went very still. Even Boomslang looked concerned. Finally, Mako spoke.

“Crypt got separated,” he explained in a calm manner. The problem was, his eyes gave away his concern.

The words punched straight through my chest.

Separated.

No. Not separated. Taken.

The bond confirmed it. I felt it then. Distance. Pain. Fear. Not mine. His.

It was faint and muted. As if it were somehow suppressed. Yet it was there. Still there. Which meant he was alive.

For now. The realization nearly brought me to my knees.

Nobody noticed Zara at first. Everyone was too focused on the crisis. The rescue. The implications. But I noticed. Because suddenly she wasn’t moving. The child stood perfectly still beside me. Hands clenched into tiny fists. Eyes wide. Scared.

And that frightened me more than anything else. Because I had never seen Zara scared.