Page 39 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

Gemma and Lily hold a cardboard sign so overloaded with paint and glitter I’m amazed it hasn’t buckled under its own weight. One strong breeze could send it tumbling.

“Welcome” is scrawled in comically large letters, with “Home” and “Mishka” crammed together on one line. Below that, “+ Sunday, Tomas, Shadow, Ben, and Graysin” has been hastily added, squished and crooked. Just like that, I’m reminded of everything good about the Prescotts.

It’s all in childish scrawl, every letter a different color and size, with flowers sprouting in the margins—petals drawn like little suns. I kind of love that the adults just let them do their thing. And Mishka… he’s frozen beside me, his gaze locked on the twins as if trying to make sense of their intentions.

He tugs on my arm, his voice low but insistent. “I can hear them. In my head.”

Sunday’s eyes widen in surprise and delight. “Oh, you can? Tomas can hear them too!”

She crouches to Mishka’s level, meeting his wide-eyed gaze. “We weren’t sure how to tell you… thought it might be better for you to experience it yourself. Lily and Gemma are psychic. They can read thoughts and send them to shifters.”

My animal paces anxiously, left out again. But Mishka is already letting go of my hand, walking toward the girls, drawn by a call only he and Tomas can hear.

The twins are using the wolf pack link—something Mishka, as half-wolf, can access. Me? Not a chance. True shifters don’t get that perk.

Wade tries to contain their enthusiasm, but the second Mishka moves toward them, it’s like trying to hold back a pair of eager pups. Lily drops her side of the sign and sprints forward, a blur of unrestrained joy. Gemma’s face crinkles in consternation as she carefully hands Sue the glittery masterpiece, then races after her sister.

They meet Mishka halfway, a flurry of wiggling limbs and bubbling laughter, taking turns wrapping him in hugs. Their energy explodes around him like fireworks, contagious and unstoppable.

Mishka’s smile, tentative at first, blossoms into something bright and real, a rare glimpse of unguarded happiness. The girls are magnets, drawing him effortlessly into their orbit, and for a moment, the world feels lighter.

But then a heavy sense of inevitability settles over me, and my animal stirs restlessly. A low growl rumbles in my chest, protesting an impending loss I can’t quite name.

I’m not sure if this is good or bad, but it feels like fate has led us to this moment. My animal wants to keep Mishka close, to shield him. But something deeper whispers that perhaps my role was always to bring him here, to them. The thought gnaws at me: am I truly meant to be part of this story, or was my purpose simply to deliver him—to stand back and watch as he finds his place?

Sunday rises onto her toes, her lips brushing mine—a fleeting touch of warmth, filled with reassurance and affection.

Grayson and Tomas stand off to the side, chatting quietly as the other vampires disembark. I hope Tomas is telling him about the surprise he arranged for Sunday, but I doubt it. It’d be just like him to keep it to himself, waiting for the perfect moment. Or maybe he expects I’ll spill the beans myself. I did tell X, so… it’s a fair assumption.

I reach for my jaguar through the pack bond, feeling that familiar ache of disconnection. They’ve already slipped into the shadows, checking the perimeter, leaving me with a faint sense of emptiness.

Sunday’s hand finds mine in a last quick, reassuring squeeze before she steps forward to greet Wade. Her wild red curls catch the light, and when she laughs—wide and full, showing just a bit too much gum—my heart thumps harder.

Wade pulls her into a hug, holding her tightly, as if needing to reassure himself that she’s truly here. I understand the feeling. I feel the same way anytime I’m away from her for more than a few hours—like she takes the light with her when she goes.

When she hugs him back, I see the change in him. His expression softens, the weight he carries seeming to lift, the years falling away from his face.

“Daddy, there are some people I’d like you to meet.”

Wade doesn’t hesitate. He steps up to Rurik Argyros, extending his hand. Rurik takes it solemnly, the two men quietly assessing each other.

“Seems I owe you thanks for helping my little girl.” Wade’s voice is steady, but there’s an edge beneath it. “But I have a feeling your presence here means complications have arisen.”

Rurik nods, his gaze sharp, unflinching.

They stand side by side, watching the plane’s unloading and the reunions unfolding around them. Their conversation, however, is anything but casual.

“So, what do I need to know?” Wade asks.

“That the situation is growing serious,” Rurik replies evenly. “And the days of keeping a low profile may be behind you.”

“I was afraid you might say that.” Wade sighs, turning to Rurik’s chyldren. “Well, it might get a little crowded, but y’all are welcome to stay the day. We can light-proof the attic again…”

The image of Wade stacking vampires like kindling in his attic takes shape in my mind, and I have to stifle a laugh. Around us, the visiting vamps have fallen into stunned silence.

Rurik’s eyebrows lift, disbelief etched across his face. “You’re inviting four vampires you know nothing about into your home, around your young children?”

“I know enough. Got a good feeling about you, and I trust Sunday. She’s always had good instincts.” Wade flashes her a huge smile. “Even when she chooses not to follow them.” He winks.

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