Page 67 of Cry of Blood and Joy
Rose stood motionless, her gaze laser-focused on the cathedral’s imposing facade with an intensity that made the air around her seem to shimmer with magical energy. “I hate that place,” she said with quiet venom, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “We should tear it down stone by stone and scatter the pieces.”
Keir shook his head with grim certainty, his pale features set in serious lines. “I believe it’s protected by layers of dark magic that have been building for decades. Even if we physically destroyed the church, the malevolent energy would remain, probably spreading to contaminate the entire bayou. Right now, at least it’s contained within those walls.”
But those same walls contained the woman I loved.
The sound of approaching wings announced more arrivals. Angelo, Serenity, and Dimitri touched down in quick succession, their landing sending ripples across the stagnant water that surrounded the cathedral like a moat.
Dimitri stretched his arms with exaggerated carelessness, rolling his shoulders as if he’d just finished a pleasant evening stroll rather than a desperate rescue mission. “Well, well. Weren’t we just here trying to rescue Serenity and Angelo not so long ago? This charming little vacation spot keeps showing up in our lives like a particularly persistent rotten apple.” His dark eyes glittered with dangerous amusement as he surveyed the cursed building. “Beginning to think this place has abandonment issues.”
Despite everything, my lips twitched slightly at his irreverent observation. Even in the face of supernatural horror, Dimitri could find a way to make light of the situation—though I could see the deadly serious intent lurking behind his laid-back facade.
“I think we need to draw them out,” Angelo said with strategic calm, his dark eyes scanning the cathedral’s imposing structure for any tactical advantage.
The suggestion hit me like gasoline on fire. I was through playing games, through waiting. I wanted Joy now.
“I’m going. She’s my mate.” I started striding toward the cathedral with deadly purpose. My hands were already reaching for the weapons concealed beneath my jacket, muscle memory preparing for the kind of brutal efficiency that had made me Angelo’s most feared enforcer.
Keir’s winter-cold hand clamped around my bicep with surprising strength, his pale fingers digging into my flesh through the fabric. “I don’t think you should storm in there blindly,” he said with urgent concern, his eyes reflecting genuine worry. “That place is fundamentally corrupt—tainted by forces that go beyond simple dark magic.”
The restraint ignited white-hot fury that coursed through my system like molten steel, even as Keir’s warnings echoed in my mind. Fear clawed at me—what if he was right? What if I madethings worse? But I couldn’t abandon Joy. I broke free of his grip with violent force.
“Watch me,” I snarled, my fangs extending fully as the beast inside me strained against its leash.
But Angelo stepped directly into my path, his powerful frame blocking my route to the cathedral like an immovable wall. “You’re losing your control again.” Despite being my maker—the closest thing I had to a brother—he’d never looked more determined to stop me. “We’ll get her out, Enzo, but if Keir’s right about that place being magically fortified, storming in recklessly could get everyone killed. We need to be strategic, not suicidal.”
The rational part of my mind knew he was right, but rational thought was drowning in the hurricane of desperate love and protective fury that consumed me. The humid bayou air felt thick in my lungs as I fought against every instinct demanding immediate action.
A dark shadow suddenly swept across the gray morning sky above us, moving with unnatural speed against the wind patterns. The figure descended toward the cathedral like a falling star, wings spread wide against the clouded heavens.
Was that fucking Ari? I was ready to rip his damn wings off.
Angelo narrowed his eyes as he tracked the approaching threat. “Who the hell is that?” His hand moved toward the weapon holstered beneath his expensive jacket.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, my own gaze fixed on the airborne figure with predatory intensity. Something about its flight pattern suggested power—and malevolent intent.
The winged figure apparently noticed our group gathered in the marshy clearing. Without warning or hesitation, it raised one hand toward us, orange fire magic gathering in its palm.
“Everyone down!” I shouted, but it was already too late.
A massive fireball spun through the humid air toward us, trailing smoke and embers like a miniature comet. The heat radiating from the magical projectile was so intense I could feel it singe the air around us, and the acrid smell of sulfur and burning ozone filled my nostrils.
The fireball struck the ground between us with explosive force, sending up a shower of sparks and superheated debris. I dove for cover behind an oak tree draped with Spanish moss, landing hard on my stomach, the impact knocking the wind out of me. Fuck, I hoped the others survived.
I coughed, smoke and ash burning my throat, my eyes watering from the debris. Who the hell was that? Ari didn’t have the power to throw fireballs.
Someone gasped next to me. It was Rose. “Who was that?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
Ancient oak trees erupted into towering columns of flame with a sound like the world tearing apart, their centuries-old bark crackling and splitting as fire consumed them with supernatural hunger. The grass beneath our feet ignited in spreading waves of orange and red, creating a barrier of roaring flame that effectively cut Rose and me off from the others.
Damn it. Rose and I were on our own. I couldn’t protect her and save Joy.
The smell of burning wood and vegetation filled the humid air, mingling with something chemical and wrong that spoke of magical fire rather than natural combustion. Smoke billowed up in thick, choking clouds that made my enhanced senses recoil, and the bitter residue of dark magic stained my tongue.
The figure in the sky wheeled around with predatory grace and hurled another fireball toward Angelo’s position. This one streaked through the morning air like a falling star, trailing sparks and embers that set the very atmosphere ablaze in its wake.
The Unseelie harpies responded with ear-splitting shrieks that cut through the roar of flames like banshees announcing death. Their cries were so piercing that even my vampire hearing couldn’t filter out the painful sound. They launched themselves skyward with powerful wingbeats, their talons extended and ready to tear their aerial opponent apart.
