I felt it the moment Casimir parked the SUV at the target location, a wrongness coiling tightly in my gut.
The campground sprawled before us, all rustic cabins and worn footpaths shimmering under the August heat. It should have been peaceful, but the silence pressed against my eardrums like deep water, broken only by the occasional distant voice or door slam.
“Everyone clear on the approach?” Cas asked as we unloaded from the SUV, his voice pitched low despite the distance between us and the main buildings.
“Maintain cover as exterminators,” Seri recited, “assess the target location quadrant by quadrant, identify any non-human presences, and contain rather than eliminate if possible.” Then, she tilted her head and blinked as she asked, “Simmy, how do we know where the quadrants are?”
As he explained, the tight lines around his mouth eased, and Zane and I exchanged amused glances. One endearing question from our girl, and the worst of her monsters melted.
I helped her into her disguise coveralls, and she looked both adorable and official in her getup with her ball cap atop her golden curls. The cap had been my idea. Red with “Pest Manager” in white embroidery across the front. I’d insisted she needed it to complete the cover, shooting Zane a look when he opened his mouth to tease.Hewas the pest it referred to, anyway, but the truth was, I wanted her to have something that made her smile. Something light to counter the weight of what we did.
Then her whisper cut through three dhampirs’ hearts with one smooth strike.
“Thank you. For letting me help.”
Zane’s laugh came out strangled. Cas overtightened his vest strap. I gulped.
Dark take me. Z was right. We are so fucked.
“Gear check,” Cas broke the silence, his voice gruff.
We weren’t fully gearing up or equipping; none of our preliminary assessments showed anything more worrisome than a small magical residue by the fire pit. And we weren’t using guns because you can’t have campers hearingbang-bangfrom rat exterminators. So Z and I were packing standard-issue blades, spelled and silvered, and Cas had his sword hidden under his coveralls.
We wore lightweight body armor except Seri, whose gear Cas had designed to be less restrictive. Her core was protected, but he’d prioritized mobility over coverage, knowing her gravitational abilities and shadow walking worked best when she could move freely.
Not that we expected her to need to use either, but it was best to prepare for the worst. Which was why Cas’ sniper rifle was in its case in the back of the SUV, right alongside my combat shotgun and Lurleen, Zane’s modified assault rifle.
“Remember,” I told Seri, “anything feels off, you say the word, and we’re out.”
“Got it. But I’m ready, Koko. Ireallyam.”
“I know you are. Just don’t forget who’s the expert here.”
“Let me guess.You?” Her eyes sparkled.
“Bet your ass I am, sweet girl.” I grinned down at her.
“And I’m new to the job, learning the ropes.” She straightened her shoulders, adopting what she probably thought was a professional pest manager stance.
“At least that part’s not a lie,” Zane quipped, bumping her shoulder gently with his elbow.
I watched her smile up at him and felt the now-familiar war in my chest: The need to protect her versus the desire to let her fly. Still, I’d never been one for cage-building, even when it came wrapped in the guise of safety.
According to the briefing, the campground had officially closed yesterday. The only people still on site should be a handful of campers whose parents were picking them up today or tomorrow, two counselors to supervise them, and the camp director. No cleaning staff until Monday. Minimal witnesses, minimal risk.
So why did it feel like someone was dragging ice-cold fingers up my spine?
As we approached the main office, a woman in her fifties emerged, clipboard in hand. The director, Mrs. Lawson, matched the description in our file: graying bob, sensible hiking boots, expression of someone who’d spent thirty years herding kids without losing her mind.
“You must be the exterminators,” she said, consulting her clipboard. “Wasn’t expecting you until later.”
“Traffic was light,” Cas replied. “We’d like to do an initial sweep while there are minimal personnel on site.”
She nodded, handing over a colorful map of the grounds.
“The last few campers are in cabin one with the counselors, so you shouldn’t be disturbed.” She pointed to the location on the map. “Most of the reports have come from around the campfire pit.”
“Any of that activity happen at specific times?” I asked.
