Page 58 of Property of Mako
Crypt studied me, then finally nodded. “All right, Mako. My lips are sealed.”
I leaned back on the barstool, stretching out my legs, but there was no relaxing in me. Not when the truth was coiled somewhere close, ready to strike worse than the venomous creature Boomslang got his road name from.
“Start with hospital records, property records, old adoption filings, sealed court shit,” I told him. “If something doesn’t line up with Lyra’s story or her family’s timeline, I want to know.”
He gave me a wicked grin. “Already know where to sniff. County records office has a basement most folks forget exists. I’ll shake the dust off and see what rattles.”
I smirked. “Good. Rattle hard.”
Two nights later, Crypt showed up at my room, his boots still damp with swamp mud. He didn’t bother with pleasantries, just motioned for me to follow him.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Lyra, who was already in bed and half asleep after I wore her out. She hummed noncommittally and snuggled into the pillow further.
We slipped into Boomslang’s office, and I closed the door.
He tossed a manila envelope onto the desk between us.
“What’s this?” I asked, already reaching for it.
“Paper trail.” His grin told me he was highly pleased with himself. “Your girl’s family has cleaner records than most, but even old money fucks up when they want to hide something.”
Needing to know what he was talking about, I flipped the envelope open. Inside were photocopies of birth records, dated hospital logs, and one document stamped SEALED in heavy black ink.
My gut tightened.
“What am I looking at?” I asked with a frown.
“Year Lyra went ‘missing.’ Fourteen months, to be exact. Family claimed she was homeschooled after an ‘illness.’ Except the hospital logs show her checked in under an alias—stayed for almost two whole weeks. OB ward, noted as ‘not medical’—whatever that means.”
My blood ran cold.
Crypt leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “Then there’s this.” He tapped the sealed record. “Family court filing. Adoption, closed case. Records sealed by a judge who just happened to play golf with her old man every Saturday.”
I stared at the paper, my hand flexing hard enough to crumple the edge.
“Adoption?” I repeated, my voice flat.
“Yeah.” Keeper’s gaze sharpened. “And whatever’s in there, it’s locked tighter than a Covenant vault. It took a lot of digging to find that.”
My forehead pinched as I read the contents. Lily was adopted?
Chest tight, I shoved the papers back in the envelope and sat in silence for a long moment. The pieces were starting to click, but not all the way. Not yet.
“Good work,” I muttered finally. My fangs ached as I ground my teeth together. “Keep digging. But no one—no one—knows a thing.”
Crypt’s eyes flicked over me, wolf-sharp and knowing. He cocked one dark brow. “You think she’s dangerous, or just dangerous to your heart?”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because deep down, I already knew the truth was both.
Lily’s laugh carried down the clubhouse hall, quick and light. Too light. I leaned against the wall and watched from a distance as Lyra brushed her sister’s hair back, tucking it behind her ear like she’d done it a thousand times before. Too careful. Too… maternal. My spine stiffened.
I took in Lyra’s curly red hair and Lily’s blonde locks. They smiled and it was like mirror smiles. If Lily was adopted, then why did they look so much alike? Which relative could be… I froze.
I’d seen sisters before. I’d seen mothers. And what Lyra had in her eyes wasn’t the same as what most sisters carried. It was fiercer. Protective to the point of pain.
When Lily hugged her, Lyra bent down instinctively, pressing her lips to the top of her head like she’d done it when the girl was small. My chest tightened.
Sister, my ass. I think I had an idea who their parents had adopted Lily from. It also explained why Lyra had approached her “sister’s” disappearance with such determined, yet reckless abandon.
