Page 9 of King’s Reckoning (Blind Jacks MC #5)

The old church cemetery loomed before them, a forgotten patch of hallowed ground reclaimed by nature. Twisted iron gates hung askew, and the burned shell of the church itself stood like a blackened skeleton against the lightening sky. Rowan felt a chill that had nothing to do with the early morning air.

"Mom's journal mentions a specific crypt,"

she told Reed as they dismounted.

"Beneath the chapel altar. Says the entrance is marked with a circle inside a triangle, etched into the cornerstone."

Reed nodded, scanning the perimeter.

"We need to move fast. Those energy signatures Barbara detected will only get stronger. And we're not the only ones tracking them."

King joined them, checking his weapon.

"Darkness has men positioned on the west ridge. They'll give us warning when the Devils arrive."

"What about Blackwood's people?"

Rowan asked.

"Already here,"

Reed said quietly, pointing to fresh tire tracks in the soft earth.

"Professional work. They came in through the back access road."

Rowan felt a rush of urgency. They were running out of time.

"We need to split up. Cover more ground."

"No,"

both men said at once, then exchanged glances.

"We stick together,"

King said firmly.

"Whatever's down there, it's affected people before. Changed them. We watch each other's backs."

The way he looked at Reed when he said it—an unspoken message passing between them—made Rowan suddenly realize how much trust her father had placed in him. Not just with club business, but with her safety.

They moved through the overgrown cemetery, following the path indicated in Elena's journal. The headstones here were older, worn smooth by decades of weather. Names of the town's founders, early settlers, and forgotten sons and daughters lost to time.

The church's foundation stones remained largely intact despite the fire, blackened but still solid. Rowan ran her fingers along them, searching for the symbol her mother had described.

"Here,"

Reed called softly. He'd found it—a weathered carving in the cornerstone beneath where the altar would have stood. A circle inscribed within a triangle, just as Elena had described.

King knelt beside them, pressing his palm against the stone.

"Now what?"

Rowan consulted the journal.

"Mom's notes say there's a mechanism. Pressure points that need to be activated in sequence."

She traced the pattern with her finger, feeling for irregularities in the stone.

Reed watched her work, his dark eyes intent.

"Just like at Flash's grave. Your mother really did think of everything."

"She had to,"

Rowan said softly.

"She was protecting something that could change the world."

The stone shifted beneath her touch, revealing a narrow opening. Cool, damp air rushed up from below.

"This is it,"

she whispered.

King produced a tactical flashlight, its beam cutting through the darkness below. Stone steps descended into what appeared to be a crypt, but unlike any Rowan had seen before. The walls were covered in the same symbols they'd found on the boxes, intricate patterns that seemed to shift in the moving light.

“I feel like Indiana Jones,” Rowan muttered, catching Reed’s small smirk from the corner of her eye.

"I'll go first,"

Reed said, already checking his weapon.

"King, take rear guard. Rowan in the middle."

She might have objected to being protected at another time, but the intensity in Reed's eyes stopped her. This wasn't just about the mission anymore. This was personal for all of them.

The descent felt longer than it should have been, the stairs winding deeper beneath the church than seemed physically possible. The air grew colder, more oppressive with each step, pressing against Rowan's skin like a living thing.

"The resonance is getting stronger,"

she said, feeling that familiar vibration in her bones.

"Like the box in the clubhouse, but more intense."

"I feel it too,"

King admitted, his voice tight.

"Like something's watching us."

The staircase opened into a circular chamber. In the center stood a stone sarcophagus, its surface etched with the same symbols they'd encountered before. But unlike the graves they'd excavated, this one stood open, its contents already disturbed.

"We're too late,"

Rowan said, her heart sinking.

"Maybe not."

Reed was examining the floor around the sarcophagus.

"These drag marks are fresh. Whatever was here, it was taken within recently."

King cursed.

"Blackwood's people got here first."

"But they didn't get everything."

Reed pointed to a small alcove behind the sarcophagus, nearly invisible in the shadows. There, resting on a stone shelf, was another box identical to the ones they'd found before.

Rowan approached it cautiously, her mother's warnings about the safeguards echoing in her mind. But as her fingers brushed the metal surface, instead of the painful whine she expected, she felt a warm hum. Recognition.

"Blood-locked,"

she murmured, remembering Abby's words.

"It was waiting for us."

She lifted the box carefully, feeling its weight. As it came into the light, the symbols etched into its surface caught the beam of King's flashlight, creating the illusion of movement across the metal surface.

"Professionals,"

Reed said, continuing to examine the crypt.

"Clean work. They knew what they were looking for."

"Blackwood's team,"

Rowan agreed, carefully placing the box in her backpack.

"But they missed this. It was hidden exactly where Mom's journal said it would be."

They searched the chamber thoroughly but found no other signs of what had been taken. The disturbed dust patterns suggested something large had been removed from the sarcophagus itself - another box perhaps, or something bigger.

"We should head back,"

Reed said.

"No point sticking around if Blackwood's people have already cleared out."

The climb back to the surface was quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. Emerging into daylight, they found the cemetery peaceful, almost serene in the morning light. No tactical teams, no threats. Just weathered headstones and birdsong.

"Feels like we missed the party,"

King commented, scanning the area.

"Or arrived after it ended,"

Reed added.

"Better that way. Less complications."

Rowan checked her phone, finding a message from Darkness.

"Scouts report Blackwood's vehicles left about two hours ago. Headed north toward the city."

"So they got what they came for and cleared out,"

King said.

"Question is, what did they take? And why leave this behind?"

He nodded toward Rowan's backpack.

"Maybe they didn't know it was there,"

Reed suggested.

"Or maybe it wasn't what they were looking for."

"Either way,"

Rowan said.

"we need to get this back to Barbara and Abby. See what they make of it."

The ride back to the clubhouse was uneventful, giving Rowan time to process everything they'd found. Her mother's journal had been precise, the directions clear. Elena had wanted them to find this box, had hidden it specifically for them to discover.

Back at the clubhouse, the main room had been transformed into a research center. Barbara's equipment covered one table, while Abby sat at another, surrounded by papers and books. The two women looked up as they entered.

"You found something,"

Abby said, her eyes fixed on Rowan's backpack.

Rowan carefully removed the box, placing it on the examination table.

"It was hidden in an alcove, just where Mom said it would be. But someone else had been there before us. The main sarcophagus was already empty."

Barbara approached with her equipment, examining the box without touching it.

"The craftsmanship is remarkable. Same era as the others, but the design is slightly different."

"Blackwood's people took something else from there,"

King explained.

"Something bigger, from the main tomb."

Abby's expression darkened.

"Then they have part of the sequence. Not all of it, but enough to cause problems."

"What exactly are these boxes?"

Reed asked, leaning against the wall.

"And why would Elena hide them in crypts and graves?"

"Protection through respect,"

Abby said.

"People don't disturb graves without good reason. It bought time—decades of it."

She gestured to the box.

"As for what they are...they're keys."

"Keys to what?"

Rowan asked.

"To understanding what's buried beneath this territory. Records of something that existed here long before recorded history. Something powerful enough that people have been killing for it since the first settlers arrived."

"You're being cryptic,"

King said, his patience wearing thin.

"Elena died protecting this secret. My daughter deserves to know what it is."

Abby sighed, looking suddenly older and more tired.

"It's not a simple explanation, Marcus. What Elena found...it changes everything we think we know about this land, about who controlled it first."

She turned to Rowan.

"Your mother discovered proof of an advanced civilization that predated all known settlements in this region. One with knowledge that could rewrite history books."

"Archaeological evidence?"

Barbara asked, her interest piqued.

"More than that,"

Abby said.

"Technology. Methods of working with the land itself. The kind of knowledge that governments and corporations would kill to control."

She gestured to the box.

"These contain maps, formulas, historical accounts. Pieces of a puzzle that, when assembled, leads to the source of it all."

"And that's what Blackwood is after,"

Reed concluded.

"Whatever this source is."

"Yes,"

Abby confirmed.

"The Devils too, though they're just pawns. Mercenaries hired to create chaos, to distract from the real operation."

Rowan opened her mother's journal, finding the page with the map of all seven locations.

"So we have three pieces. Blackwood has at least one. That leaves three more to find."

"And we need to move quickly,"

Abby said, struggling to stand.

"Now that they have part of the sequence, they'll accelerate their search."

"You need rest,"

King told her, gentler than before.

"You're still recovering."

"There's no time—"

"There's time for a few hours,"

Reed cut in.

"Blackwood's people will need to analyze what they found. That gives us a window."

He looked at King.

"We should have the prospects watching the remaining locations anyway. Advance warning if anyone approaches."

King nodded.

"Already on it. Ace has teams positioned at all three sites."

"Then we plan,"

Rowan decided.

"Figure out our next move. Mom's journal says the memorial park is next in sequence. We hit that tonight, after dark."

As the others dispersed to prepare, Rowan found herself alone with Reed. He'd been quiet since their return, watchful in that way that meant he was processing everything.

"What are you thinking?"

she asked.

"That your mother knew exactly what she was doing,"

he said.

"Preparing you for this. Making sure you'd have everything you needed when the time came."

His dark eyes met hers.

"She must have seen something special in you, even then."

The words touched something deep inside her.

"Sometimes, I wonder if I'm up to it. Living up to what she planned."

Reed moved closer, his presence solid and reassuring.

"You're more than up to it. I've seen you in action, remember? You're exactly where you're meant to be."

"Here?"

she asked.

"With the club? With..."

She couldn't finish the thought.

"With all of it,"

he said softly.

"With the mission. With King."

His hand found hers, a brief touch that sent warmth through her.

"With me, if that's what you want."

The moment stretched between them, heavy with possibility. Rowan had come here looking for answers about her father, about her past. She hadn't expected to find something else—someone who saw her for who she really was.

"I don't know what I want yet,"

she admitted.

"Everything's happening so fast."

"Then we figure it out together,"

Reed said simply.

"One day at a time."

Their conversation was interrupted by King calling for Reed. As he moved away, he gave her that small smile that seemed reserved just for her.

"Get some rest. Tonight will come soon enough."

Rowan watched him go, then turned her attention back to the box and her mother's journal. Tonight they would recover the next piece, get one step closer to understanding what Elena had died protecting. One step closer to the truth that had shaped her entire life.

But for now, she had a few hours of quiet. Time to prepare, to think, to be ready for whatever came next. Time to consider what Reed had offered—not just partnership in this mission, but something more lasting. Something real.

Her mother's legacy was important. But so was building her own future, with people who cared about her. People like Reed, who saw her strength and didn't try to shield her from it. And King, who was finally getting to know the daughter he'd missed for twenty-five years.

Rowan traced the symbols on the box, wondering what secrets it held. Whatever came next, one thing was certain.

She wouldn't face it alone.