Page 59 of Cry of Blood and Joy
“No, I’ll eat it! I’ll eat it!” Pure panic exploded in Zoe’s eyes as she lunged for her sandwich, her movements frantic and uncoordinated. She grabbed it with both hands and took an enormous bite, immediately gagging as the vile taste hit her. Her face contorted with disgust and she nearly choked, coughing and sputtering as tears streamed down her cheeks in silver tracks.
The guard chuckled darkly, a sound like gravel grinding together, clearly delighted by our misery. The stench of the nutria meat seemed to grow stronger with each bite, filling the cathedral with the smell of our degradation.
I reached over as far as my chains would allow and touched Zoe’s trembling hand. “We’re going to get through this,” I whispered, though my own hands shook with doubt and revulsion.
“Damn, I wanted to see Marsha’s punishment,” he said. Suddenly, massive black wings erupted from his back with a wet, tearing sound as they burst through his shirt. The leathery appendages stretched wide, casting ominous shadows across the flickering candlelit walls. The wings flicked with an oily, unnatural sheen that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it.
I shuddered violently as he walked away, his boots echoing hollowly against the stone floor. The sight of those wings confirmed what I’d feared—we weren’t just dealing with human monsters. Whatever Ari had assembled here was a collection of supernatural nightmares.
“This is disgusting,” I muttered through gritted teeth, forcing myself to take another bite of the vile sandwich. The nutria meat felt like chewing leather soaked in swamp water, and the taste made my gag reflex kick in with each swallow. I breathed through my nose, trying to minimize the flavor, but that only made the rank smell worse. “But we have to eat it,” I whisperedas I took another bite that made my body rebel violently, vomit rising in my throat, but I forced it down.
Zoe attempted another bite, her face contorting with revulsion as she chewed. But her body had reached its limit. She suddenly doubled over, retching fiercely as she vomited the partially masticated food onto the cracked stone floor. The sound echoed wetly through the cathedral, mixing with the acidic smell of bile and partially digested nutria.
One of the guards stationed near the massive double doors broke into cruel laughter, the sound vile and mocking as it bounced off the vaulted ceiling. “Looks like somebody’s got a delicate stomach!” he called out.
“Are you okay?” My heart broke for her as I watched her shoulders shake with dry heaves.
I glanced nervously into the shadows. What if Marsha was watching? She would consider this insubordination. Insubordination deserved punishment.
She shook her head miserably, wiping her mouth with the back of her quivering hand. Tears continued to stream down her pale cheeks, and her green eyes were bloodshot from the strain of vomiting “No. Not at all.” She glanced nervously at the guards, who had returned to their casual conversation by the doors. “Can you use your shadows?”
I looked away, not able to face her. My chest tightened with guilt. I held up my wrists, displaying the silver bracelets that fused with my flesh, still glowing faintly with malevolent red light. The metal pulsed with each heartbeat, sending ribbons of burning pain up my arms. “No, I’m bound. Ari wants to use me for some trap to capture a king, I guess.” I paused, trying to remember the exact name he’d used during his phone call. “His name is?—”
“Gunnar. Gunnar Khan,” Zoe finished quietly. Her green eyes darted toward the guards, then back to me with obvious fear.
I studied her pale, drawn face with growing concern. “You’ve heard of him?” The way she’d said his name—with certainty rather than confusion—froze my blood in place.
She leaned closer, dropping her voice. “When I was first captured, I pretended to pass out and heard the guards talking.” Her words came out in short, nervous bursts as she kept glancing toward the doors. “I tried to listen to what they were saying to see if I could learn something useful... something that might help me escape.”
My pulse quickened with desperate hope—any information could be valuable. “So why does he want this Gunnar?” I whispered back, my breath barely stirring the air between us.
Zoe’s face grew even more troubled, and she swallowed hard before answering. “He wants to capture Gunnar and his queen, but I didn’t get why. I didn’t hear what they were saying for a while but then they mentioned something about opening the Elder Dimension. Do you know what that means?”
“No.” I leaned back against the wall, the greasy food sitting heavy in my stomach. I closed my eyes, thinking of Enzo’s handsome face. I wanted him to wrap his arms around me, tell me everything would be all right. But he wasn’t here. “But whatever it meant, it’s evil.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Enzo
The silence in the room was suffocating, thick enough to choke on. Every eye in the elegant sitting room focused on me with laser intensity—some with concern, others with barely concealed wariness. Their unwavering attention felt like standing in a firing squad’s crosshairs, but I didn’t care. My anger had gotten the best of me again, rage boiling through my veins like molten silver.
This wasn’t me—or rather it wasn’t who I used to be. But I would do anything to find Joy, even if it meant becoming the monster everyone expected me to be. Intimidation wasn’t beneath me; it was a tool I’d wielded countless times when I needed information or had to protect the Santi family. The familiar coldness settled over me like a well-worn coat.
Angelo and Keir stood motionless, watching the confrontation unfold with the patient stillness of apex predators. The tension radiating from Angelo was palpable—I could smell the deadly scent of his barely controlled fury with the expensive cologne and leather that always surrounded him.
Alice met my fierce gaze with surprising steadiness, though I could see her pulse hammering frantically at her throat. “Release me—please.”
I loosened my crushing grip on her arm, feeling the indentations my fingers had left in her soft flesh. Blood rushed back into the compressed tissue with a sensation she’d probably feel for hours. I tilted my head toward Rocco with deliberate menace. “Then heal him.”
Alice broke free from my grasp, rubbing her arm where dark bruises were already beginning to bloom like ink stains beneath her pale skin. She glanced around the room with wide, frightened eyes, taking in the faces of some of the most dangerous supernatural beings in New Orleans. She reeked of nervousness and fear.
She swallowed hard, her throat working visibly as the implications of her situation sank in. Disappointing the Santi family was never a good idea—everyone in the supernatural community knew that. And Angelo’s special interrogation room was right down the hall, with its soundproof walls and collection of tools that had made ancient vampires weep.
With trembling hands, Alice knelt gracefully in front of Rocco, her knees settling on the Persian rug with barely a whisper of sound. The candlelight cast her shadow long and waveringly across the unconscious man’s still form.
If this didn’t work, I was totally fucked and so was Joy.
“Be careful.” Rose sat on the leather couch opposite Rocco. Some of the color was returning to her pale face.
