Page 26 of Oath of Blood and Joy

“But it’s daylight,” Steve said uneasily, backing toward the shadow of the doorway. His pale skin seemed to tighten at the mere thought of the bright afternoon sun. “I can’t go out in sunlight.”

“I know this.” Angelo motioned with his hand, long fingers curling impatiently through the air. “Come over here.”

Steve stepped away from him, shoulders tensing. “Why?”

Angelo’s expression hardened. Without warning, he bit savagely into his own wrist. The sound of flesh tearing was obscenely loud in the quiet room. Dark blood—darker than human blood—welled immediately.

“Because the only way you can survive, asshole, is if you take my blood.”

Steve stared transfixed on Angelo’s wrist, the hunger visible in his eyes. His pupils dilated until his eyes appeared almost red, and his fangs extended with an audible click that betrayed his newborn status. A small, involuntary sound escaped his throat—half protest, half desperate need.

“Feed.” Angelo stretched out his wrist, the blood now trailing down his pale skin in rivulets. He didn’t move closer, forcing Steve to make a choice. “The ancient blood protects. Even from the sun…temporarily.”

I could feel Steve’s fear radiating across the room, a cold counterpoint to the heat of his hunger. But I needed him—needed him to gain access to Tremé House to help locate Joy. “Do it.”

Steve’s resistance crumbled. Slowly, as if drawn by strings, he approached Angelo, who remained perfectly still, a predator allowing himself to be fed upon. When Steve finally reached him, he hesitated only a moment before sinking his fangs into the already open wound. The first taste broke something in him. He drank greedily, desperately, clutching Angelo’s arm with both hands.

Angelo’s eyes met mine over Steve’s bent head. They held neither pain nor pleasure—only the patient calculation of one who had played this game countless times before.

As he drank, Serenity raced over to me and clasped my arm, her cool fingers gentle against my skin. Concern etched deep lines around her eyes as she leaned closer. “Enzo, are you sure you’re healed enough?”

Angelo observed me with clinical detachment, scanning every inch of my body, searching for any signs of weakness. I met his gaze unflinchingly, my jaw set in defiance. I was the enforcer and Maximo had stolen something that belonged to me. My fangs pressed against my lower lip, the familiar sensation of predatory anticipation unfolding in my system. A mistake he would regret. And I would make certain he lived just long enough to understand that.

“I’m healed enough.” I drew on my strength and stood on my own, refusing anyone’s help. My legs trembled slightly beneath me, but I straightened my spine with fierce determination, swallowing back a groan that threatened to escape. Pride and desperation warred within me—pride demanding I show no weakness, desperation to find Joy before it was too late. The thought of her in Maximo’s hands fueled me with a rage that threatened to turn me into a nightmare even other vampires would fear—something vicious and uncontrollable.

“Enough.” Angelo snapped his fingers, cutting through the wet sounds of Steve’s feeding. But Steve, lost in bloodlust, kept sucking hard, his throat working convulsively as he consumed the ancient blood.

A growl erupted from deep in Angelo’s chest—a sound no human throat could produce. He grabbed Steve by the hair, fingers tightening into a vise, and flung him off with terrifying ease. Steve’s body arced through the air before crashing into the far wall hard enough to crack the plaster. He slid to the floor, Angelo’s blood still smeared across his chin and neck.

“Do not disobey me again, fledgling.” Angelo narrowed his eyes at Steve. The wound on his wrist was already closing, the supernatural healing slowing to a stop as if his body knew the exact amount of blood needed for the ritual. “You’ll be able to be out in the sun for four hours. No more.”

“Sorry.” Steve wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes, though, still gleamed with the residual high of Angelo’s blood—older and more potent than anything he’d tasted since his turning. “What happens if I’m a little late?”

Angelo shrugged with elegant indifference, straightening the cuff of his shirt. “Then you’ll burn.” His tone suggested he might find this outcome more educational than tragic.

Steve’s face paled to an almost translucent white, the blood he’d just consumed seeming to retreat deeper into his body. He kept his mouth shut, but I could see the questions and fear swimming in his eyes—the terrible realization of how vulnerable he was in comparison to the rest of us.

“We leave in thirty minutes,” Angelo said, his eyes flickering briefly to where my hand gripped the bedpost for support. If he noticed my weakness, he gave no sign of it, a small mercy I silently appreciated. “I will contact the others and tell them of our plan.”

“I want to go.” Serenity stepped in front of Angelo’s path, her stance defiant.

I tensed, recognizing the dangerous territory she was entering. Few dared to challenge Angelo so directly. A mixture of admiration and concern tightened my chest as I watched her—brave, foolish Serenity, always willing to put herself in harm’s way.

“No. Maximo possesses something that almost killed an ancient vampire. I don’t know what his poison could do to a Nephilim, and I’m not willing to find out. You will stay here.”

Relief washed through me at Angelo’s refusal. The memory of the poison’s agony was still too fresh, my body still too weak. The thought of Serenity suffering the same fate made the monster inside thrash to get out and kill, kill, kill.

She held her head up high. “Angelo. I’m powerful and?—”

He clasped her chin. “I know you are, my little Nephilim. But I won’t be able to do what I need to do if I’m worried about you. If Balthazar has somehow escaped from his cage, I don’t want you anywhere nearTreméHouse or Ravenwood Estate.”

My blood ran cold at Balthazar’s name. The ancient evil that had once held Serenity captive in hell itself. If he was truly involved... I glanced down at my still-healing wounds with new understanding. The stakes were even higher than I’d realized.

A shadow of fear glimmered in Serenity’s eyes. She gripped his arms and her gaze searched his face. “Promise me you won’t kill Joy. You’ll bring her back here.”

My heart seized at her words. She was pleading for Joy’s life, knowing full well that Angelo might see her as nothing more than a threat to be eliminated. I held my breath, every muscle in my body tense as I waited for his response. In that moment, I knew with absolute certainty that if Angelo ordered Joy’s death, it would be the end of centuries of loyalty. I would turn againstmy king, my maker, for a human girl I barely knew. It was as terrifying as it was liberating.

Chapter Eighteen

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