Page 10 of Cry of Blood and Joy
He touched his forehead gingerly, and when he pulled his finger away, it was bright red with fresh blood. Sighing heavily, he stared at the crimson stain. “Yeah, I kind of noticed.”
The metallic scent of blood filled the air between us, mixing with the dust and decay of the abandoned house. I pressed the fabric more firmly against his wound, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin material.
“I have to learn to control these shadows when I get mad. It’s so frustrating.” My chest deflated with the weight of my failures. “I thought I was getting the hang of it…”
My words trailed off as the reality hit me—I wasn’t getting better. If anything, I was getting worse. And now Enzo was gone, probably walking into danger because of my lack of control, while I’d just attacked the one person who’d stayed to protect me.
“You’ll figure it out. You always do.” His voice carried a conviction I wished I could feel, but the gentle certainty in his tone made my chest tighten with both gratitude and doubt.
“Steve, will you please tell me where Enzo went?” I leaned closer, searching his pale eyes for any sign he might relent.
His jaw clenched, and he looked away from me toward the wall. “You can’t go there, Joy. It’s too dangerous. It’s even too dangerous for Enzo.”
I squeezed his hand, feeling how cold his skin was against my warm palm. His fingers were rigid beneath mine, and I could sense the tension radiating through his entire body. “Please tell me. He’s doing this for me. I deserve to know where he’s going.”
He remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the harsh morning sunlight that was slowly creeping across the dusty floor toward us. I could see the way his pupils constricted against the brightness, how his skin seemed to grow even paler in the golden rays. “I can’t stay in here much longer.” His voice was strained, and I caught the faint tremor that meant his vampire instincts were screaming at him to find shelter.
Understanding flooded through me. “My shadows will protect you.”
I drew on my power deliberately this time, breathing deeply to center myself. Instead of the chaotic storm of anger, I focused on my love for Steve, my need to keep him safe. Calmness sweptover me like cool water, washing away the frantic energy that had been clawing at my insides.
Gentle tingles moved through my arms and down to my fingertips—not the violent electricity from before, but something softer, more controlled. I exhaled slowly and watched as shadows began to emit from my skin like wisps of dark silk.
They moved with purpose now, responding to my will rather than reacting to my rage. The shadows swam through the air with fluid grace, reaching the windows and spreading across the glass like protective curtains. The harsh sunlight dimmed to a soft, filtered glow, and the room took on the cool, peaceful quality of twilight.
Steve’s shoulders relaxed visibly as the deadly rays disappeared. “Thank you,” he whispered, and for the first time since my power had thrown him across the room, he looked at me without that edge of wariness.
I held his gaze, searching for any crack in his resolve. “So will you tell me where he’s going?”
Steve’s blue eyes darkened, and he shook his head slowly. “If I tell you and you leave, what do you think Enzo will do to me?”
The truth turned my blood cold. Enzo was tender to me, gentle in ways that still surprised me, but he was also possessive—fiercely, dangerously so. He was a vampire and the ruthless enforcer for the Santi family, capable of violence that would make most people’s nightmares seem tame. Steve was right. If I showed up, he wouldn’t punish me, but Steve…
My throat constricted as I imagined Enzo’s fury, the cold rage that would consume him if he thought Steve had failed to protect me. I hung my head down, shame burning in my cheeks. I couldn’t let anything happen to my brother. He was the only family I had left.
Steve patted the dusty floor beside him with gentle taps. “Come over here.”
I scooted closer, the rough wooden planks scraping against my legs as I settled next to him. The coolness of his skin seeped through his shirt as I pressed my shoulder against his, and I drew comfort from his solid presence. “I guess all we can do is wait.”
“He’s powerful, Joy.” Steve’s arm came around me, his grip reassuring but slightly tremulous. “He’ll be back.”
But I could hear the uncertainty threading through his voice like a discordant note, could feel the tension coiled in his muscles despite his attempt at comfort. His breathing was too controlled, too measured—the way someone breathes when they’re trying not to panic. He was worried, maybe even terrified. He cared about Enzo with the fierce loyalty that came from being created by someone, from owing them your very existence.
The sunlight filtered through my shadow curtains, casting everything in muted grays. I closed my eyes and whispered a silent prayer to whatever forces might be listening: Let Enzo return to me whole and safe and not end up broken and bleeding at the hands of Angelo Santi.
Chapter Seven
Enzo
I pressed my back against the rough bark of an ancient oak, its Spanish moss draped like funeral shrouds around my shoulders. The sweltering New Orleans air clung to my skin, thick with the scent of oak and decay—a perfume that had haunted this city for centuries, just as I had. Morning sunlight filtered through the canopy above, dappling my skin with warmth that wouldn’t burn me to ash like it would Steve; instead it was like a gentle caress.
I could still taste Joy’s blood on my lips, warm and spicy, and I wanted to be with her, make her scream my name again, but if we lingered at that house much longer, Angelo would track us down.
The only way to protect her was to help her gain control of her powers. If Angelo was convinced she wasn’t a danger, he’d become a brother again rather than the enemy.
Breathe, I commanded myself, though the action was merely habit now. My hands trembled anyway, betraying the anxiety that clawed at my chest like a caged animal.
Keir’s home loomed before me through the veil of moss—the Court of Thorns, they called it. The white mansion blazed like polished marble in the harsh morning light; its Corinthian columns casting long shadows across manicured grounds that sprawled behind wrought-iron gates. Each spike of that gate glinted like silver daggers in the sun, as if the house itself were some great beast waiting to devour the unwary.
