Page 44 of Oath of Blood and Joy

Her breath caught, chest rising and falling rapidly beneath her sequined top. She took an instinctive step backward, her spine pressing against the mirrored wall. “You’re the Santi enforcer?” The question came out as a strangled whisper, color draining from her already pale face.

“Yes. I am.” I closed the distance between us in one fluid movement, too fast for human eyes to track properly. She flinched as I clasped her shoulders, demanding her attention with unwavering eye contact. Her skin was fever-warm against my cool touch, trembling beneath my fingertips. “I have some questions. Let’s start with a simple one. How old are you?”

I used compulsion just to break down some of her barriers without hurting her. Her eyes turned glossy.

“Sixteen.”

I swore softly underneath my breath as centuries of controlled rage simmered beneath my carefully maintained facade. The mirrors reflected my expression from every angle—multiplying my growing fury into infinity. Maximo, Duncan—they were scum, preying on the young like this. They were worse than the animals.

I lifted her chin with one finger, noting how she instinctively flinched at the touch before forcing herself to remain still. Her eyes—green with flecks of gold—were old beyond their years, windows to trauma no child should know. “What happened to you?”

“I was walking home from school...” The words tumbled out in a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might summon the monsters who’d taken her. She lowered her head, blonde hair falling forward to hide her face, shoulders curving inward protectively. “And I was taken.”

The mirrors reflected her trapped expression from every angle—a kaleidoscope of terror multiplied infinitely around us.

“Now tell me about some of Maximo’s other girls. I want information on a specific girl. Tell me about Joy DuPont. Do you know her?” I watched her face carefully for any flicker of recognition. “Do you know her?”

“Yes.” Her face paled to an ashen gray, blood draining so quickly I could hear the change in her circulation. Her eyesseemed to grow wider, pupils dilating with fresh fear. “But it’s forbidden to talk about her.” She backed up slowly until her spine pressed against a mirror, the cool glass fogging slightly from her body heat.

The mention of Joy sent a predatory focus through me, instantly sharpening my senses. Every muscle in my body tensed, the hunter within me suddenly alert. I controlled my expression carefully, but my fingers flexed involuntarily at my sides, nails threatening to extend into claws.

“Why?” I took a deliberate step closer, my reflection multiplying in the mirrors surrounding us, creating the illusion of an army closing in.

“Because she’s his favorite. He moved out of his house to protect her. Because someone was trying to find her.” Her lower lip trembled, a small quiver that betrayed her terror at breaking Maximo’s code of silence. Her heartbeat thundered in my ears, rapid as a hummingbird’s wings. “You’re the…the one looking for her.”

Time seemed to slow as her words registered. His favorite. The possessive term ignited something primal and violent within me. My vision sharpened, the edges of the room taking on a reddish tint as ancient instincts surged to the surface. The thought of Joy in Maximo’s hands, labeled as his “favorite,” sent a wave of protective fury through me that was almost dizzying in its intensity.

My hand pressed against the mirror beside her head, the glass creaking slightly under pressure. “Yes. Where is she?”

“I don’t... I don’t know.” She avoided looking at me, betraying her lie. She rubbed her wrists unconsciously, a gesture of self-comfort that drew my attention to the thick makeup there. The movement released a faint medicinal scent—antibiotic cream beneath the cosmetics.

I gently picked up her wrist, my cold fingers encircling her fragile bones. She tensed but didn’t pull away, frozen like prey that knows escape is impossible. With my thumb, I brushed off the makeup with a deliberate stroke, revealing ugly welts beneath—raw, red abrasions that formed perfect circles around her wrists. The marks of chains, still fresh enough to be painful.

“Did someone hurt you?” I kept my voice soft, at odds with the rage building within me. Children had always been a line I refused to cross, even in my darkest days.

She licked her lips nervously, the gloss catching the light, and wiped away a tear that had carved a path through her heavy foundation. The salt-scent of it reached my nostrils, mingling with the fear that poured from her in waves. “Y-y-yes.”

“Did Fremont do this?”

Her heartbeat stuttered erratically, a rhythm of pure terror. She shook her head violently. “I told you I can’t tell you.”

“Let me guess what you trying not to tell me—Fremont told you to try to seduce me and find out information.”

“He wants to know if you’re still looking for Joy.” She pulled on her wrist and I released her.

I pushed more with my compulsion. “What did he threaten you with?”

She swallowed hard, throat working visibly as she said in a dead pan voice, “That he would take my sister. She’s only fourteen and still in middle school. I have to stay here to protect her.”

The scent of her youth—still carrying traces of childhood beneath the club’s grime—confirmed her words. Sixteen and fourteen. Children. The predator within me receded, replaced by something I’d thought long dead: protective instinct.

“Tell me what I want to know and I can protect you and your sister.” The promise fell from my lips before I could consider itsimplications, but I knew as I spoke that I would honor it. I rip apart bodies, not innocent souls.

Chapter Thirty

Joy

The world stretched into a blur of darkness and distant lights as wind rushed past my ears. My stomach lurched into my throat, and a scream tore from my lips—raw, primal terror that echoed across the courtyard below.

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