Page 83 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

Gray

Nothing.

The response is clipped, but my fingers hover over the keyboard. Xavier’s curiosity spikes, their dry wit pulling me out of my own head even when I resist. Another message pings almost immediately.

Little Cat

Well knock it off. You’re not even supposed to be alive yet. Meditate or something.

My lips twitch despite myself.

Gray

I’m stuck down here. It’s making me crazy.

Little Cat

B.S. It’s bigger and nicer than any coffin.

Another ping, and I can practically see the smirk.

Little Cat

Dominga is on her way. Just… be cool. Don’t break anything, it’s new.

I huff out a breath, shaking my head at the idea of the “new” 1800s farmhouse. My thumb hovers over the emoji keyboard for half a second. A simple thumbs-up or eye-roll might lighten the mood.

But no.That’s beneath me.

Instead, I type out:

Gray

So,don’trip the door off its hinges??

Little Cat

You’re really showing your BCE energy right now.

I scowl at the screen.Again with the fucking dinosaurs.

I lean back against the wall, staring at the door. Soon, I’ll be free of this room, and then I can deal with whatever the hell Louisiana is planning. Until then—I close my eyes, forcing my breath to slow, trying to focus—I am calm.

And then I hear it.

My senses, still razor-sharp from the wolf’s blood, pick up the whispers of the house—the low thrum of footsteps across the floorboards, the faint echoes of voices drifting down from upstairs.

I step closer to the door, straining to catch the words as they grow louder and more distinct.

Tomas’s voice, calm and laced with humor: “Just type in the code.”

A beat of silence. Then Sunday, exasperated: “I am trying.”

“It’s three threes, then the nine, then the rest.”

“You do it.”

“No, I want you to memorize this.”

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