Page 60 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

“Am I the only one here who remembers how to be a guard?” They gesture toward the house. “We have a high-profile vampiredead and vulnerable inside. So, I’ll stay here and keep an eye on things.”

Then the most embarrassing thing happens. With my Daddy wandering in our direction, I lose it.Spectacularly.

The world tilts, the edges of reality smearing like wet paint. Colors bleed into each other, and my vision narrows. My lungs lock tight, as if glass shards are lodged in my throat, and I can’t pull in air. “Oh hell, not now,” I manage, the words splintering as memories crash over me.

Blood—on white beadboard walls. The copper-sweet tang of it clogs my nose. My hands are sticky, shaking. Shadow on the floor of our bedroom—not moving, not breathing.

My pulse roars, a wild, frantic drumbeat. The present slips further away, and I’m back in Hibernia, helpless, watching everything I love slip through my fingers.

I know I’m safe. I know this porch, this morning, this moment. But my body doesn’t care. My fingers go numb, trembling so hard I can’t make them stop. Cold sweat pricks at the back of my neck. My chest heaves, but no air comes in—just tight, shallow gasps.

“Baby, baby, breathe with me.” Ben’s voice cuts through the chaos, rough and desperate. His hands cup mine, warm and solid, tugging at the edges of the panic. I can feel him pulling, anchoring me. But even through the haze, I sense his struggle—the low thrum of his own animal fighting to break free.

Tomas’s arm wraps around me, rocking me gently, his voice a low murmur I can’t quite make out. I hate this. Hate feeling weak, hate that they have to see me like this.

Shadow’s face swims into view. Their eyes flicker with concern and something rawer—hurt. They think I’m asking them to leave Grayson, and I can feel their silent plea:He needs me. I need you to be okay.

I want to explain. That I would never ask them to choose between us. That calm, rational Sunday knows they need to stay here with Grayson—that it’s in their DNA to protect him. That I’ll actually feel better knowing Shadow is here, watching over him.

But that Sunday isn’t picking up the phone.

Instead, they get me. The messy, panicked version, barely holding it together. The one who’s sure we’re due for more bad luck, the one already unraveling under the weight of Tomas’s secrets. The one terrified of driving away, of leaving them behind.

I want to promise them I’ll be fine. That I can do this. But right now, all I can think is, Please don’t let anything happen. Please don’t leave me again.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” I chant, hoping repetition will make it true, even as tears slip down my face, unstoppable. “I’m just… I’m just havin’ a moment.” My hands shake as I try to swipe the tears away, embarrassment and frustration swelling alongside the panic. “I’m sorry, guys, I’m sorry. Just… let me clean up.”

Tomas’s hand on my back anchors me. “No need to apologize, Trouble. We’ve got you.” His voice is low, soothing—like he’s talking to his wolf as much as to me. “Take your time.”

Tomas doesn’t rush me. He squeezes my shoulder, his eyes soft with concern. “We don’t have to figure it all out right now. Let’s just take a beat, okay? We can talk about it tonight, or tomorrow. Whatever you need.”

“Ummm,” I look around frantically for something to latch on to. “I think I need more information.” My voice sounds small and weak. I hate it.

Tomas’s voice cuts through the haze, calm and certain. “X is right, sweetheart. We need to think like guards again, especially with the political climate. And they’re the best choice for this.” He gives Shadow a respectful nod. “You remember Warsaw?Thirteen Council enforcers, all on their own. No one else could’ve pulled that off. This house is warded; they’ll both be safe.”

Ben is still rumbling like an outboard engine, the tips of his claws ghosting against my palms—not enough to break the skin, but enough to remind me how close his animal is to the surface. I need to pull it together before our new neighbors get a gander at the cave bear on our front porch.

I wipe a shaky hand across my snotty nose, and a handkerchief appears in front of me, smelling of Cavendish and motor oil.

“Havin’ a moment, Sunshine?”

I laugh weakly at the familiar words. “Thank you, Daddy. Sorry you had to walk up on this.”

“Ain’t no bother.” He takes back the soggy cloth and tucks it into his back pocket. “Do you need to hear that I got nothin’ but good feelings about today?”

“Yes.” My voice is small, but I cling to his words.

“It’s peaches and cream.” His tone is warm and certain. “Laundry smellin’ of sunshine.”

My heart slows, the pressure in my chest easing. I exhale, shaky but steady, and Shadow’s eyes catch mine, filled with such need that I’m up and in front of them before I realize I’m moving. They fold me into their arms, holding me tight, drawing strength even as they lend it.

Behind us, Daddy lets out a low whistle. “How long has she been movin’ that fast?”

Ben answers, “It started in Volga. We think she’s picking up some new skills with each bond.”

“Well, that’s a handy one.”

I press my forehead to Shadow’s shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of their breath. I tighten my grip for just a second, then pull back enough to meet their gaze, my voice low.

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