Page 46 of Oath of Blood and Joy

“No, no, no,” I choked out, panic rising in my chest like floodwater.

Tears of frustration welled up and spilled down my face, hot trails cutting through the grime on my cheeks. I tasted their salt as they reached my lips. Silent sobs wracked my body as the reality of my situation crashed over me in suffocating waves.

I had overestimated my abilities. Underestimated my captors. And now I was paying the price, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.

I stared upward into the nothingness, my tears rolling down my temples and into my hair. The metal lid loomed just inches from my face, invisible in the darkness yet oppressively present. Each tear that escaped felt like another small defeat.

Through my own terror, faces flickered in my mind—Zoe, pale and trembling after her time in this very box; Sarah with her quiet defiance; Tina, who still flinched at sudden movements. They were waiting for me, counting on me, whether they knew it or not. I had promised myself I would help them, would find a way to free us all.

And now? Now I was just as trapped, just as helpless. My failure wasn’t just my own—it belonged to all of them too. If I couldn’t even save myself, how could I protect them from whatever Marsha had planned for us? The thought sent a fresh wave of anguish through me, sharper than the pain in my battered body.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to the darkness, though there was no one to hear. “I’m so sorry.”

Unbidden, Enzo’s face appeared in my mind—his dark eyes that saw too much, the rare smile that transformed his guarded features. Would he come looking for me? Part of me hated the thought of needing rescue, of being the damsel waiting for her knight. But another part, the part shivering in this metal coffin, whispered his name like a prayer.

“Enzo,” I breathed, tasting salt on my lips. “Please find me.”

The plea felt like surrender, but I was beyond pride now. If he was searching, if he still cared enough to search, I needed him to hurry. Before Marsha finished whatever she had started. Before there was nothing left of me to save.

In the absolute darkness, with my powers gone and my body broken, I had never felt more alone. But worse than the loneliness was the knowledge that I had failed the others who needed me. I had become just another prisoner, another girl waiting to be saved instead of doing the saving.

Chapter Thirty-One

Enzo

She searched my eyes, hers glistening with unshed tears that threatened to spill over her lower lashes. The red light caught the moisture, making them shimmer like blood-stained diamonds. Hope and suspicion warred on her face as she weighed my words against countless broken promises she’d heard before.

“How?” She glanced at her reflection in the mirror beside us, taking in her too-adult makeup and revealing clothes with a flash of shame. “I belong to him.”

The word “belong” ignited something ancient and furious within me. No child belonged to anyone, especially not a man who would chain her wrists and sell her body.

“You’ve heard of my reputation?” I let just a hint of the predator show in my smile—enough to confirm the whispered stories, but not enough to break her fragile trust. The mirrored walls reflected my expression from multiple angles, creating the illusion of a room full of dangerous men.

Fear radiated off her in waves, her scent sharpening with fresh adrenaline. A fine tremor ran through her body, visible inthe slight quivering of her lower lip. “Yes,” she whispered, eyes darting to the locked door before returning to my face. “But why would you help me?”

She tilted her head, watching me through lowered lashes while her lips pressed into a thin line. In her world, nothing came without a terrible price.

I studied her, taking in details my vampire senses revealed that human eyes would miss—the slight malnutrition evident in her brittle hair, the fading track marks partially hidden by her bracelets, the way she unconsciously made herself smaller, a learned behavior from months of abuse. My jaw tightened imperceptibly.

“What’s your name?” I kept my voice deliberately gentle, a tone I rarely used—one reserved for witnesses I needed to coax rather than terrify.

“Gloria.” The word emerged tentatively, as if she hadn’t spoken her real name in so long she’d nearly forgotten it. Her fingers played nervously with the hem of her too-short skirt, picking at a loose sequin.

“Gloria,” I repeated, the name a contract between us now. “I take care of my informants.”

The mirrors around us captured our strange tableau from every angle—the ageless vampire and the child forced to grow up too soon, both searching for someone lost. Santi family protection colored my words—a promise backed by centuries of power.

She shifted her weight, wincing slightly as she leaned against her bruised back. “I’m just a lowly whore. It’s not like they tell me anything.” The self-loathing in her voice was bitter and practiced, words she’d been forced to internalize.

“I’m sure you’ve at least heard rumors about where Maximo took her.” I drew nearer, mindful that these walls sometimes had ears. “Is she here or at one of Maximo’s other clubs? Doeshe have a secret place?” I maintained eye contact, watching how her pupils dilated slightly at the implied knowledge of girls who disappeared. The scent of her fear spiked, mingling with something else—a desperate hope that perhaps salvation was possible.

She gave me a pleading look, her eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. Her fingers twisted the cheap bracelet on her wrist, the nervous gesture of someone weighing impossible choices. “You’ll really keep my sister safe?” The question came out broken, the voice of someone who’d had every promise ever made to her shattered.

“I promise.” In my long existence, I had broken many things—bones, bodies, lives—but never my word. I lifted her chin again, my cold fingers gentle against her bruised skin. “Tell me what you heard.”

Her lower lip trembled, and she glanced at the door as if expecting Fremont to burst through at any moment. The pounding bass from the club vibrated through the walls, masking our conversation from human ears but providing a rhythm to her accelerating heartbeat. “I don’t know if this means anything,” she whispered, leaning closer as if sharing a terrible secret, “but he bought an old fort.”

My body went still with predatory focus, the kind of unnatural stillness that often frightened humans instinctively. “Fort? What fort?” I forced my breathing to stay even as excitement threatened to crack my carefully maintained composure.

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