Page 54 of Oath of Blood and Joy

The grand house loomed before us, its ornate wrought-iron balconies and imposing columns silhouetted against the night sky. It was shrouded with mystique, murder, and malevolence, a darkness that seemed to seep from its very walls. The hair on my arms stood on end as a chill breeze whispered through the ancient oaks surrounding the property, their branches creaking like old bones. I had always hurried past it on foot, eyes downcast, shoulders hunched, afraid I would run into Angelo Santi, the angel of death. The mere thought of him made my mouth go dry with terror.

My father had spun stories about the Santi family and how dangerous they were. He always spoke in a fearful whisper when speaking their name as if he feared there were spies in our house. I had stayed clear of them until Serenity went missing—the only person who could have dragged me into their world of shadows and secrets was the very one who now held me suspended above it.

Serenity glided down behind the house—Crescent Manor. Her descent was silent, graceful, like a leaf falling in still air. As her feet touched the overgrown garden, her magnificent wings—iridescent in the moonlight with hues that shifted between silver, gold, and the faintest hint of blue—began to fold. I watched, mesmerized and terrified, as they seemed to dissolve into her skin, disappearing into her back with a soft shimmer that left no trace they had ever existed. The transformation left her standing there in her worn leather jacket and jeans, and she was just my friend again—the same Serenity who had shared midnight pizzas and laughed at bad movies with me.

My legs felt weak beneath me as I steadied myself against a mossy garden statue. The cool stone anchored me to reality as my mind struggled to process what I’d just experienced.

I stared, my eyes wide and unblinking, still not comprehending that she had wings—actual wings. My throat seemed like it was glued shut, and when I finally broke through the paralysis, it emerged as little more than a whisper. “How... how did this happen?”

Serenity’s expression softened, a mixture of compassion and uncertainty in her eyes. She reached out, clasping my trembling hand in hers. Her touch was warm, human—at odds with the otherworldly being I’d just witnessed. “I found out who my father was.”

I tried to follow her logic, but my mind was a completely scrambled. The night air felt heavy around us, laden with secrets waiting to be revealed. “Who?”

“The Archangel Raphael.” She spoke the words quietly but with certainty, as if saying them aloud still amazed her too.

A cricket chirped nearby, the ordinary sound jarring against the extraordinary revelation. My ears rang with what she’d just said, my mind trying to fit these impossible pieces together. I blinked, not sure I was hearing her right, my mouth opening and closing without sound before I finally managed to respond. “What?” The single word was laden with disbelief, confusion, and the terrifying realization that everything I thought I knew about the world was crumbling beneath my feet.

“Angelo bought me for my angelic powers.” Serenity’s eyes reflected the moonlight as they searched my face for understanding.

The night air felt heavy with revelation, pressing against my skin. My stomach churned with conflicting emotions—horror at the word “bought,” wonder at the confirmation of what I’d just witnessed. I clasped her hand, feeling the warmth of her skinagainst my cold fingers. The scent of jasmine from the garden mingled with the distant notes of bourbon and fried food wafting from the Quarter.

“Has he…” I swallowed hard, tasting fear like metal on my tongue. “Has he been good to you?”

Serenity’s expression transformed, softening in a way I’d never seen before. A flush crept up her neck, and her lips curved into a secret smile. “He stole my heart, Joy.” She pressed her free hand against her chest, her fingers splayed over her heart. “I love him. I know what he is, but he’s risked his life for me, literally fought hell to get me back.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “He’s my mate, my husband.”

The sudden creak of hinges shattered the moment. I jumped, my heart leaping painfully in my chest as my body tensed for flight. The garden’s shadows seemed to deepen as a burly man stepped onto the patio. The yellow porch light cast harsh angles across his face as he moved toward us, his heavy footsteps crunching on the gravel path. My pulse thundered in my ears.

“Serenity,” his deep voice rumbled through the night air. “The boss wants you to stay here.” His gaze shifted to me, assessing and intense. I fought the urge to shrink back. “Is this Joy, the one we’ve been looking for?”

Serenity laughed, the sound incongruously light in the tense atmosphere. She squeezed my hand reassuringly. “Yes, Pascal. This is her.” She turned to me, her expression warm. “Joy, this is Pascal. One of Angelo’s men.”

Pascal stepped closer, and I caught the scent of gunpowder and cologne. His massive frame blocked out the porch light, casting me in shadow. My entire body froze, caught in the headlights of his gaze—dark and penetrating—as he focused on me with unnerving intensity.

For a moment, we simply stared at each other—this intimidating stranger assessing me while I tried not toshrink back. Then his expression shifted to something more businesslike.

“How many girls were being held at the fort?” he asked as he rubbed his chin.

“At least fourteen.” The memory of those girls’ frightened faces flashed through my mind, their hollow eyes and bruised skin making my gut clench. “Why?”

Pascal’s massive shoulders shifted as he sighed. “Because the boss wants me to take the limo to retrieve them and bring them here.” He rubbed his jaw, the slight rasp of stubble audible in the quiet garden. A look of genuine concern crossed his face. “I just don’t know if I can fit them all inside.”

Serenity smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners with affection. “Angelo will figure it out. He always does.” Her confidence in him was palpable, warm and certain.

My heart skipped a beat, then warmed unexpectedly for the vampire mafia king. The night breeze carried the scent of magnolias as I processed this new information. The man I’d been taught to fear was sending help for those girls.

Maybe Angelo wasn’t as evil as I had thought.

But more important to me—my breath caught as realization dawned—Enzo had kept his promise. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I thought of him, the intensity of his gaze, the gentle brush of his fingers against mine when he’d sworn to help. He had to have been the one to convince the king to save those girls.

“Will Enzo be here?” My body tensed like a wire about to snap as I waited for an answer, suddenly hyperaware of the sticky night air against my skin and the tremble in my hands.

Pascal exchanged a knowing look with Serenity. “Don’t worry. Enzo will be here soon.”

A rush of anticipation flooded through me—electric and dizzying. I’d see him again. Tonight.

Despite everything—his nature, his past, the danger that clung to him like a second skin—I couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through me at the thought of those dark eyes finding mine once more. I would thank him, I decided. That was all. Just thank him for saving those girls. I ignored the voice inside that whispered it was much more than gratitude making my pulse race and my skin flush with warmth.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

---