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I paced the length of the motel room, my nerves frayed and raw. The knowledge that anyone could walk through the door at any moment kept my adrenaline spiking.
Anthony stood near the window, calm and unreadable as always, watching the parking lot through the sheer curtain. Meanwhile, I couldn't sit still if my life depended on it.
"Wouldn't it just be easier to call them?" I asked, turning toward him, arms crossed tightly over my chest.
He didn't respond right away. Then, with the faintest smirk, he said, "Better they find out I'm here without the whole city listening in."
I raised an eyebrow. "Didn't peg you for the morally subtle type."
Anthony didn't reply. He went back to staring out the window like he hadn't heard me. I rolled my eyes and walked to the far side of the room, pulling out my dagger. I turned it over in the light, admiring the clean silver glint, before setting it down and switching to my pistol. I loaded and unloaded the magazine three times, flipped the safety back and forth, just for something to do.
After ten minutes of this, Anthony finally said, "You're going to shoot yourself in the foot if you keep doing that."
I paused, glanced up, and offered a flat smile. "At least it'd make things interesting." Still, I slid the pistol back into its holster and leaned against the wall. "How long are we waiting here? Did they stop for takeout or something?"
Almost like I'd summoned them, footsteps echoed down the hallway-two sets, heavy and deliberate. I tensed immediately, hand drifting toward my hip. I flipped the strap on my holster, just in case. Before I could draw, Anthony raised a hand. I clenched my jaw, annoyed at being silenced, but obeyed.
Then came the muffled sounds of voices.
"Why don't you leave that junk in the car?" said one voice-gruff, short-tempered.
"I've told you before," came another, smoother and quieter, "better safe than sorry."
A key turned in the lock. The door creaked open, and two figures stepped inside. One tall, the other more compact. My eyes fixed on them as they spotted Anthony near the window.
"Hey!" the shorter one barked sharply, stepping forward. His hand hovered near his waist.
The taller one stopped behind him, eyes narrowing as he took in Anthony's presence. For the first time since I met him, Anthony's face softened into a genuine smile.
A heavy silence filled the room as the two men stared at him in disbelief.
"...Dad?" the taller one said quietly, voice strained with emotion.
That single word struck me like a bolt of lightning. Dad. These two were my brothers-Alexandra and Williams Hawkins, the ones I'd only heard of in vague fragments my whole life. Seeing them in the flesh after so long was like stepping into a memory I didn't own.
As the three of them exchanged hushed words and brief embraces, I stayed planted in the shadows. I didn't belong in their reunion. Their world had spun together for years, while I'd been on the outskirts-unknown, unmentioned.
Then Anthony turned to me. "Boys," he said-his voice loud and certain now, "there's someone I'd like you to meet."
Both of them turned toward me, eyes narrowing as they tried to make out the figure half-concealed in the room's dim lighting. I stepped forward slowly, letting the pale moonlight cast over me.
I could tell instantly they noticed the same thing I did-the claw marks slashed across Williams' face, and the dark bruise blooming near Alexandra's temple. They'd been through hell. That much was obvious.
"Williams," Anthony said, placing a firm hand on the shorter man's shoulder. "Alexandra," he added, gripping the taller one's arm. "This is Katherine."
"Kate," I corrected sharply. "I go by Kate."
Their gazes landed on me-sizing me up.
Williams scanned me from head to boot with cautious interest, while Alexandra offered a tight, polite nod. Despite the quiet tension, neither of them lashed out. Not yet. But I braced myself, because I knew what was coming.
Anthony didn't drag it out. "She's your sister."
Silence.
Then, as expected, the backlash hit.
"Our what?" Williams asked, disbelief thick in his voice.
I could see it all in their faces-shock, betrayal, confusion. Anthony raised his hands as if to shield me, standing between me and their reactions.
"I know this is a lot," he said quickly. "But we don't have time for a full story. Kate's a hunter. She's skilled, fast, and capable. I need the two of you to look out for her."
"I don't need anyone watching over me," I snapped before I could stop myself. Both Alexandra and Williams blinked at me like I'd just cussed out a priest. I didn't care. "I've been doing this on my own for years."
Anthony shot me a look. "We're not having this argument again."
He turned back to the boys. "The demon-"
"It was a trap," Williams cut in, face dark with guilt. "We didn't know. I'm sorry."
Anthony just nodded. "I figured it might be."
"Were you there?" Williams asked.
"Got there just in time to see Goldilocks swan dive onto the pavement," I muttered. Williams whipped his head toward me in surprise.
"She was the demon, right?" Anthony asked, the corner of his mouth twitching like he found it amusing.
"Yes, sir," both brothers replied in eerie unison.
I blinked. The response was so rehearsed, it almost startled me. Clearly, Anthony was used to running this operation like a military unit.
"It's tried to stop me before," Anthony went on, nodding to himself.
"The demon?" Alexandra asked, confusion written across his brow.
"It knows I'm close," Anthony replied, voice low. "It knows I'm going to kill it. Not just send it back to hell... I'm going to end it. For good."