Page 52 of Oath of Blood and Joy

“They’ll be safe,” Serenity whispered, somehow knowing my thoughts remained with the girls and with Enzo. “He won’t leave without them.”

I wanted to believe her. Needed to believe her. But as we flew toward safety, I couldn’t shake the image of those red eyes, orthe feeling that I had glimpsed only the beginning of something much darker to come.

“Where are we going?”

“Crescent Manor. It’s warded and you’ll be safe there.”

“The vampire king’s home?” A chill that had nothing to do with the damp clouds ran down my spine. Angelo Santi’s reputation preceded him—ruthless, ancient, and the undisputed ruler of New Orleans’ supernatural underworld. Even before I knew such things existed, I’d heard whispers of his name, spoken with both fear and reverence.

Serenity must have felt my body tense, because she smiled down at me with surprising gentleness. “And mine. And Enzo’s.”

Enzo’s home. Something fluttered in my chest at that thought, a strange counterpoint to my dread. The man who had just risked everything to save me, whose presence had somehow strengthened my shadows, lived under Angelo’s roof. I remembered the intensity in his eyes when he promised to rescue the other girls, the certainty I’d felt in his arms.

I was caught between opposing forces—fear of the vampire king and whatever complex allegiances awaited me at Crescent Manor, yet also a pull toward the one person who made me feel both safe and powerful. As we descended toward Bourbon Street, my emotions tangled into a knot I couldn’t begin to unravel.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Enzo

I changed into a bat, the transformation sending waves of hot, electric pain through my body as bones cracked and reformed. My senses sharpened, the night air suddenly alive with currents and scents imperceptible to my human form. I soared upward, leathery wings slicing through the cold air, every beat propelling me toward the Dark Demon chasing Serenity and Joy.

Rage pulsed through me, primal and focused. The sight of Joy in that metal box—bruised, terrified—burned in my mind like acid. I wouldn’t let another demon touch her.

I slammed into the pursuer with all my supernatural strength, my smaller form deceiving in its impact. The collision sent a jarring shock through my transformed body, like hitting stone rather than flesh. He spiraled toward the ground, black wings flailing against the night sky, a roar of fury echoing across the battlefield. I recognized him in that instant. The distinctive silver markings along his wing edges were unmistakable.

Ari. My blood ran cold despite the heat of battle.

I pursued him downward, the wind whistling past as I dove, my enhanced vision tracking his falling form. One of the most deadly Dark Demons ever born, his name whispered with fear even among my kind. Then, impossibly, he disappeared into the darkness between one heartbeat and the next. Even with my vampire eyes, attuned to the slightest movements in the night, I couldn’t fucking find him. How could I lose him?

The battlefield below swarmed with shadows and combat, too many Dark Demons fighting and falling to distinguish one from another. Ari was supposed to be dead—I’d heard Angelo himself confirm the reports months ago. Obviously, the reports were wrong, and he had his sights set on Serenity... and Joy. The sharp scent of blood—both demon and vampire—rose up in a dizzying cloud.

My instincts screamed to follow Serenity and Joy, to ensure they reached Crescent Manor safely. The memory of Joy’s face when I’d found her, the relief in her eyes when she recognized me, pulled at something deep within my chest. But I had made a promise to her, a promise I wouldn’t break. The other girls needed me now. I could still hear Joy’s desperate plea—“No, the other girls. You can’t leave them here. Please, Enzo.”—echoing in my mind, cutting through the battle noise.

Frustration burned through me as I lost sight of Ari in the darkness. With him gone and the girls still trapped, I had no choice but to abandon the pursuit. I landed on the stone parapet with a soft thud, shifting back into human form. My bones and muscles protested the second transformation so soon, sending shudders of pain across my skin. I straightened, adjusting my torn shirt as I surveyed the scene below. Enemy territory, but rapidly becoming less so. Many of the Dark Demons were fleeing into the sky, their midnight wings carrying them into the darkness like oil spilling into water.

Angelo had that effect on people. Bodies were scattered around him in a perfect circle, as if death itself radiated from where he stood. His movements were precise, lethal, devoid of wasted energy. The centuries of his existence had refined killing into an art form.

I hunted for Marsha among the chaos, my eyes scanning each corner and doorway of the courtyard. No sign of her distinctive copper hair or the emerald pendant she never removed. She was a crafty witch, and I was certain she had an escape plan prepared long before we arrived. The thought of her eluding justice made my jaw clench, teeth-grinding together as I fought to focus on the task at hand.

Dimitri finished killing off a Dark Demon with theatrical flourish, driving a silver blade through its heart before giving the dying creature a mocking salute. Blood spattered his face like war paint, but somehow he managed to look as if he’d just stepped out of a high-end nightclub. With the immediate threat eliminated, he transformed into a bat and soared upward to where I waited, returning to human form beside me with casual grace that belied the brutality of the battle below.

“Well, that was invigorating,” he drawled, eyebrow arching as he flicked blood from his sleeve with exaggerated disgust. “Nothing like a little demonic genocide to work up an appetite.” His eyes scanned the battlefield with bored amusement before shifting to me. “Where are we going? Please tell me there’s bourbon involved in the near future.”

“Follow me. There are other girls being held here.” Joy’s pleading eyes still haunted me even as I moved toward the stairwell. Each step felt weighted with her trust, her desperate hope that I wouldn’t abandon the others.

Dimitri’s eyes gleamed with sardonic amusement in the dim light. He twirled his blood-slick blade between his fingers like a baton. “And you want to be Sir Galahad?” A smirk played at thecorner of his mouth. “Rescuing damsels is so twelfth century, Enzo.”

“Something like that.” My jaw tightened, impatience thrumming through me. Every moment wasted was another moment these girls remained captives. Another moment for Marsha or someone worse to find them.

He followed me through a guard door that led down into the fort, the ancient hinges groaning in protest as I shouldered through. The metal stairs beneath our feet rang hollow with each step, the sound echoing in the narrow passage. Damp, stale air rose to meet us, carrying the musty scent of mold and fear—a distinctive human terror-sweat that clung to places of prolonged suffering.

The way was empty, bodies of guards strewn only near the entrance. I guessed a full assault from vampires of our caliber had taken them off guard, especially ones as powerful as us. Blood spatter painted the stone walls in macabre patterns—some crimson, some nearly black. I could detect the difference between vampire and Dark Demon blood without effort, centuries of hunting honing my senses to the subtle variations. Dark Demon blood was thicker, saltier, with an undertone like burned metal. It didn’t have that same tanginess of human blood, that sweet-copper note that triggered hunger.

My fingers traced along the rough stone wall as we descended deeper, mind racing with questions that had no immediate answers. Why was Maximo here, and where was he? Or was he already dead? The thought struck me suddenly—Ari had the ability to shift into anyone he wanted. Maybe he’d been wearing Maximo’s meat suit all along? The possibility sent ice down my spine. If true, we’d been played—all of us—from the beginning.

The problem being—how long had he been wearing that suit? Did Flanagan know? Was he part of this too?

A new scent cut through my thoughts—young, human, female, and terrified. My chest tightened with determination. For Joy, I’d get every last one of these girls out alive.

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