Page 113 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

Jinx watches, her frown deepening. “You aren’t grounding enough. That’s why you’re gettin’ tired.”

Before I can respond, the low rumble of an engine cuts through the humid air. I turn to see Ben’s truck crawling up the driveway, Mishka leaning out the passenger window, his face pale and pinched. The truck shudders to a stop near the porch, and Ben practically kicks the door open, his scowl thunderous.

Jinx’s smirk returns just in time for Ben to storm up, boots kicking up little puffs of dust. “The wards almost knocked us out! Who’s the psycho who set them up?” he demands, his voice carrying an edge that’s thoroughly un-Ben-like.

“That’d be me,” Jinx says, unfazed, her lips quirking. “Nice to meet ya.”

Ben glares, nostrils flaring, but before he can spit out another word, Mishka stumbles out of the truck. He grips the doorframefor support, his breath coming in shallow pants. His skin is too pale, eyes glassy.

I start forward, but Shadow’s already there, scooping Mishka up in a fluid motion, their voice low and soothing. “Come on, kid. Lemonade and cookies. You’ll feel better in no time.” Little Sumi trots at their heels, nose to the ground, his tail wagging in uncertain little sweeps.

The smirk fades from Jinx’s face, her sharp eyes narrowing as she tracks Mishka’s unsteady steps. She mutters a curse under her breath and turns to me, her voice softer now. “Didn’t mean to squeeze the cub. We need to blood-lock the wards.”

“Blood-lock?” I echo, frowning.

Jinx nods, already pulling a small, empty vial from her belt pouch. “Locks the wards to individuals, families, covens. Means they’ll recognize you and welcome you home.”

Tomas steps forward, his face tightening. “You need blood for that?”

Jinx glances at him, her brow furrowing slightly, but her voice stays calm. “Just two drops from each of you.”

Tomas doesn’t respond right away. His jaw works like he’s biting back a response, the muscle twitching under his skin. Something in his expression flickers—fear, almost mourning—and it hits me like a punch to the gut. My fingers find his hand before I realize I’m reaching for him. His grip is tight, like he’s holding onto something fragile and painful at the same time.

Jinx tilts her head, her gaze softening with a quiet, patient curiosity. “It’s safe,” she says gently. “I just need a little. And it stays here.”

Tomas’ golden eyes meet hers, wary and guarded. Whatever he’s wrestling with, he doesn’t let it loose, just absorbs it, tucking it somewhere deep. He gives a sharp nod, his voice low. “Fine.”

“And our… undead friends?” I ask, glancing toward the house, the mention of Grayson pulling some of the focus off Tomas. He squeezes my hand once, a wordless thank you.

Jinx’s easy demeanor slides back into place like a mask. She shrugs, lips quirking slightly. “The one you’re bonded to will get by on your blood.”

I blink. How the hell did she know that?

“And my family?” I press, my voice steady, but there’s an edge of worry I can’t hide.

Jinx’s expression sobers slightly, the sun glinting off her dark eyes. “I can extend it to blood relations. But you gotta trust ‘em, every last one. If they can cross, they can bring trouble with them.”

Her eyes flick to Tomas, who’s still standing rigid beside me. The weight he’s carrying is damn near palpable, his wolf’s energy a low hum of anxiety beneath the surface. He looks like he’s measuring each word, each possibility, against a future none of us can quite see.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he lets out a breath, short and reluctant, and gives a nod. “Do it.”

Jinx holds his gaze for a moment longer, then tips her chin, satisfied. “Alright, Big Bad. Let’s make sure your pack stays safe.”

***

The rest of the ritual passes in a haze of chanting, the glint of an athame under the sun, and the faint hum of magic settling into the ground. By the time we’re finished, the sun’s starting to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the property.

“Alright,” Jinx says, dusting her hands off, her smile satisfied. “You’re set. This should keep most folks with ill intent at bay.Ain’t gonna stop everything, but it’ll slow ‘em down, give y’all enough time to react.”

“Thanks—it’s a big help.”

Jinx’s eyes flicker with something softer, something that cuts through her usual sharp-edged confidence. “Don’t thank me yet,” she murmurs, her tone dropping low, almost like a warning. “You still got a lotta shit headed your way, girl. But maybe this’ll give you a fightin’ chance.”

I swallow hard, the weight of her words settling in my chest. “That’s all we need.”

Her smirk returns, the edge sharpening again as she turns away, braid swinging behind her like a pendulum. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

The coven starts packing up, their movements efficient and practiced. Ava hands off the last bundle of supplies, the rolled-up fabrics and empty salt pouches disappearing into the van like clockwork. The lanky guy with the shaved head stretches, his joints popping, and nods toward Jinx, who gives a lazy wave of acknowledgment.

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