Page 32 of Oath of Blood and Joy

“Tsk, Tsk, Marsha,” Maximo said, his voice silky with false admonishment. “I’m sure Joy will be up to the task. All she needs is an incentive.”

It took everything I had to keep the tears pushing against my eyelids back, a burning pressure I refused to release. My hands trembled slightly beneath the table where they couldn’t see. Incentive meant someone would get hurt if I didn’t open something with my shadows. Someone innocent, someone like Zoe. There were better ways to show people how to use their power besides threats and punishment.

But Maximo and Marsha seemed to revel in delight with hurting people, feeding off fear and pain like vampires fed on blood.

I wished Enzo would find me again before my lesson. The thought of him came unbidden but powerful—his stunned expression when my shadows had erupted at the auction, and later, that flash of something like wonder when I’d instinctively used them on the houseboat. He hadn’t looked at me with disgust or calculation like everyone here did. No, he wanted to protect me.

But how could he find me? It’s not like they left any breadcrumbs for him to track. They were too smart for that.

My fingers curled around the napkin in my lap, twisting the fabric as I thought about those moments when my power had revealed itself. Each time had been pure instinct, raw emotiontriggering something inside of me. Now Maximo wanted me to use these shadows deliberately, to become the weapon he envisioned.

No, escape was up to me before someone else got hurt. The shadows that had emerged in moments of fear and protection were my only advantage now. If I could learn to harness them, I might find a way out of this nightmare—not just for me, but for all of us trapped in Maximo’s cruel game.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Enzo

The crackling of radios echoing in the distance broke up our little party, police lights flashing through the trees. Angelo placed a hand on my shoulder, the slight pressure a silent command. We exchanged a glance loaded with unspoken concerns before retreating to the limousine. The door thudded shut with finality as we settled in, the air inside the vehicle thick with tension and unasked questions.

“Dimitri, take us back to Crescent Manor.” Angelo drummed his fingers against the armrest—a rare tell that betrayed his unease.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.” Dimitri’s eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror, catching mine for a brief moment. “Who was Keir’s new guy? Another one of his pet monsters with an attitude problem?”

“Someone with a power that could be a threat to us,” Angelo said, his gaze fixed on the passing landscape. The admission hung in the air between us, weighted with implications neither of us was ready to voice.

I remained silent, watching shadows dance across the road as we pulled away, each one reminding me of Morden’s display—and of Joy. A cold numbness radiated through my center that had nothing to do with hunger. Angelo hadn’t yet given his verdict on Joy, but I could feel the scales tilting toward danger in his assessment. Every second that passed without finding her pushed us closer to a confrontation I wasn’t sure I could win.

“Boss,” I said carefully. “We need to find Joy before Maximo corrupts her.”

“Agreed. We need to figure out where he has taken her, then bring her to Crescent Manor to see if she poses as a threat to us.”

Dimitri let out an exaggerated sigh that filled the car. “Please don’t tell me we’re dealing with another supernatural teen drama. Those never end well for anyone involved—or the cars.” The sound of his hand patting the steering wheel punctuated his words. “This beauty deserves better than to be collateral damage in whatever apocalypse-of-the-week we’re facing now.”

“Maybe Steve and the others found out more at Tremé House.” I watched Angelo’s reaction closely as I mentioned the human mafia boss’s stronghold. The territorial implications hung between us—vampires encroaching on human criminal territory rarely ended well for anyone.

“He’d better not have left a trail of bodies,” Angelo grumbled. I stiffened and warily watched him cross and uncross his legs—a tell that his patience was wearing dangerously thin. Vampires caught killing humans at the home of a mafia boss would bring the kind of attention we couldn’t afford—not just from humans, but from every supernatural faction watching for signs of weakness.

If Steve had left corpses behind, he was practically committing suicide with Angelo. Our king’s rules about maintaining the delicate balance with human power structures were absolute. My fingers tapped against my thigh once, twice,before I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my phone. The cool metal and glass felt like a lifeline as the screen illuminated with a blue glow in the dimness of the car’s interior.

“Enzo. No one’s here.” Steve’s voice came through the line, taut with confusion that immediately set off alarms in my head.

I slowly tightened my grip on the phone, trying not to destroy it. “What?” The single word carried the weight of my disbelief.TreméHouse was never empty—the human mafia boss ran his operation like a small army, with guards and servants constantly present.

“Put it on speaker,” Angelo said, his hand extending toward me in a gesture that brooked no argument. The subtle shift in his posture spoke volumes—this unexpected development had captured his full attention.

My gut tightened with apprehension as I complied, pressing the speaker button. The sound of Steve’s breathing now filled the car, along with faint background noises—footsteps on hardwood, the creak of a door opening somewhere.

“Say again. Angelo wants to hear.” I kept my voice measured, but the subtext was clear—a warning that if he had killed anyone, he’d better keep that information to himself. The look Angelo gave me confirmed he understood my tactics.

“No one’s here.” I could hear Steve’s footsteps reverberating in what must be large, empty rooms on the other end of the line. “Lorenzo, Pascal, and I are inside. We’ve cleared the entire main floor. There’s no one here. No servants. No guards. No one.” He paused as if he was worried someone was listening. “Boss, this isn’t right. There’s coffee still warm in the kitchen. Half-eaten breakfast on the dining table. It’s like everyone just... vanished mid-morning.”

The silence that followed hung heavy in the car. I caught Angelo’s eyes, seeing my own unease reflected there. Peopledon’t just disappear from a mafia stronghold without reason—and rarely without violence.

Cold dread settled in my stomach as the implications sank in. “What about computers?” I asked, leaning closer to the phone as if proximity might somehow extract more information.

“They took those too.” I heard what sounded like drawers opening and closing punctuating his words. “Lorenzo went through his desk and there’s not even a date book. Maximo took everything. There’s not even a file cabinet in here.” He let loose a low whistle of surprise. “When I worked for him, this place had a big wooden file cabinet—antique, Italian, worth a fortune—and it’s gone. Completely gone.”

Angelo’s body tensed beside me, the subtle shift in his posture radiating danger. “Any sign of blood or bodies?” he blurted, his usual composure slipping for a fraction of a second—enough to reveal just how serious this situation had become.

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