Page 67 of Death Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Greyson glanced at her. “This is not flirting.”

He opened the under-stair door.

A small room sat behind it, half storage, half ward chamber. The air in there felt different. Cooler, denser, as if the house had a private spine made of magic.

The safe was not large. It was about the size of a carry-on suitcase, hidden behind a painting of wolves, with runes carved along the edges that pulsed.

The air around it didn’t just shimmer. It wavered. Flickered as if it were struggling to stay in place.

Faith’s shoulders rose. “That’s bad.”

Greyson stared at it. “That’s very bad.”

Tegan stepped closer, relic in her palm. “The safe should be feeding it a stable heat source.”

“It is,” Greyson said. “Or it should be. I used a spell to mimic Brutus’ flame.”

I heard the reverence in his tone. Brutus was a miracle. The last living dragon.

Eve’s eyes narrowed. “So why is the temperature dropping.”

Greyson’s jaw tightened. “Because something is siphoning or blocking my wards. Or both.”

My skin prickled as I neared the safe. The cold tug under my ribs returned, slight but unmistakable. Not necromancy exactly. More like an echo of that tether I’d felt downtown.

Nishi stood back, scanning corners, listening. “We open it.”

Greyson’s gaze flicked to her. “If we open it too fast, we expose the egg to a shift in temperature.”

Faith didn’t blink. “Then be careful. We need to know what is going on.”

Greyson exhaled, then nodded once. He placed his hands on the safe door, whispered a sequence of words that sounded like numbers and promises, and the runes brightened.

The first lock clicked.

Then the second.

The third hesitated, and Greyson’s expression tightened. He pressed more power into the line, and the third lock finally released with a reluctant snap.

The safe door swung open.

Warmth should have rolled out.

Instead, a damp cold slid across my fingers.

The egg sat in a padded nest inside the safe, cradled in thick fabric that held heat and protection. It was large enough that I had to remind myself there was a baby inside, not just a magical problem. Its shell was mottled gray, the kind of stone-like surface that looked alive if you stared long enough.

Except it was changing.

Dark spots spread across one side like bruises made of shadow. They looked dense, heavier than the rest of the shell, as if portions of it were hardening into true stone.

Faith leaned in, eyes narrowed. “That was not there before.”

Greyson’s voice went quiet. “No. It wasn’t.”

Eve’s face tightened. “This is the calling.”

Tegan reached toward the egg, then stopped herself. “We need Cal.”