Page 69 of Cry of Blood and Joy
The first person I saw was Joy, and the sight only intensified my struggles, arching my back and thrashing my head side to side, pulling on my arms and kicking. I had to get to her. But I was trapped like a caterpillar in a cocoon.
She was suspended from chains with her arms pinned above her head, her beautiful face streaked with tears and exhaustion. The moment our eyes met, her expression crumpled with devastating despair.
“Enzo, no. Oh, no,” she sobbed. The sound of her anguish made me redouble my efforts. I was an enforcer. It was my job to protect her.
I struggled harder against the thorny restraints, drawing on every ounce of vampire strength I possessed, but the vines only crunched tighter, breaking my ribs. The thorns dug deeper into my flesh. Warm blood soaked through my torn clothing.
Ari approached with that same terrible, beautiful smile, his perfect features radiating satisfaction as he surveyed his captured prey. “Hello, Enzo. Rose. Welcome to my little sanctuary. I’ve been waiting for both of you.”
“Why?” I gritted my teeth ignoring the anguish pulsing through me, forcing the word out through a throat raw from screaming.
“You’re my leverage, my dear enforcer,” he replied, raising his hand so I could watch his fingernails lengthen into razor-sharp talons that gleamed like polished steel. “Your darling mates will do absolutely anything to save you from what’s coming next.”
“No!” Joy’s scream tore through the cathedral like a banshee’s wail. “Please don’t hurt him! Please I’ll do anything you want!”
Ari only laughed—a sound like crystal bells being shattered—and sliced through the thorny veins. His razor-sharp talons didn’t just cut through the plant matter; they ripped deep gashes into my flesh, carving through muscle and sinew like I was made of paper.
Dead demon blood. The poison flooded into my system through the wounds, spreading like liquid fire through my veins.
It worked quickly, turning my own supernatural strength against me. Agony crashed through every cell in my body in waves that made me wish for unconsciousness. I tried desperately to break through the remaining thorny restraints, but the poison was already stealing my strength, leaving me weak and helpless.
Totally useless. Exactly what Ari needed.
I was supposed to be Joy’s protector, her salvation, and instead I’d walked directly into his trap and handed him the leverage he needed to break her completely.
Chapter Forty-Five
Joy
Enzo writhed beneath those nightmarish black veins that seemed to pulse
with malevolent life, the thorny tendrils shifting and tightening with each movement he made. But it was the deep, ragged scratches that mauled his beautiful skin that shattered my heart into a thousand pieces. Crimson blood seeped from the wounds where Ari’s poison-coated talons had carved through flesh and muscle. The dark liquid carried something else with it—something that reeked of decay and ancient evil.
I pulled frantically against my own restraints, the iron chains cutting deeper into my already raw wrists as I fought with desperate fury to reach him. The burning sensation from the cursed bracelets was nothing compared to the agony of watching the man I loved suffer. If I could just get one finger loose, maybe I could summon even the smallest tendril of shadow to free him from those horrific bindings.
“Enzo,” I sobbed, his name tearing from my throat. Tears streamed down my face in hot rivers, carrying with them all the helplessness and terror I’d been fighting to contain.
Ari approached me with a beautifully evil smile, his footsteps echoing off the weathered stones with deliberate slowness. He was savoring this moment—my desperation, Enzo’s pain, the absolute control he wielded over both our fates. “Now, little Unseelie,” he purred. “If you want to save your mate, you will do exactly as I say.”
The patronizing endearment made bile rise in my throat. I was nothing to him but a tool, a weapon to be used and discarded when he no longer needed me. But the sight of Enzo’s pain-contorted face, the way his powerful body convulsed as the dead demon blood worked its way through his system, made me willing to do anything—even become Ari’s puppet again.
“You can heal him,” I managed to say through my tears. The words came out as half plea, half demand, though I had no leverage to make demands of anyone. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want, but you have to heal him first.”
I watched Enzo’s struggles grow weaker, the poison stealing his legendary strength one agonizing second at a time.
“No, I can’t heal him myself,” Ari said with mock regret, his beautiful face twisted into an expression of false sympathy that made my anger burn in my chest. “But our dear King Gunnar has something quite special tattooed on his chest—a Cantan Dragon. It’s ancient magic, you see, and that little dragon can actually peel itself off his skin and take physical form.” His blue eyes glittered with cruel amusement as he gestured toward the silver cage where Gunnar was trapped. “Those magnificent creatures have a very particular diet—they inhale dead demon blood like it’s their favorite vintage wine.”
The flippant way he described using Gunnar’s own magical protections against us sent fresh rage fluttering in my chest likeangry bats trying to get out. This whole nightmare had been planned to the last detail.
“I’ll let the dragon heal both Enzo and Rose,” Ari continued with that same terrible smile, “if you do one little task for me.”
My breath caught in my throat as the full scope of his plan became clear. Tears threatened to blur my vision, salt and moisture smearing onto my trembling lips as I fought to hold back sobs. “You want me to open the Elder Dimension?” The words came out as barely more than a whisper, heavy with the weight of what that would mean for the entire supernatural world.
“Yes,” he confirmed with obvious satisfaction. “With the invaluable assistance of dear Marsha, of course. Her magic combined with your shadow abilities should do the trick quite nicely.”
“Don’t do it,” Enzo gasped from his position against the wall, his voice raw with pain and the effort of speaking through the poison coursing through his system. Even suffering as he was, he was still trying to protect everyone else. “Joy... Don’t give him... what he wants.”
But he was growing weaker with each breath. His face had turned ashen and his chest heaved as he struggled for air. The dead demon blood worked its way through his powerful frame, stealing his strength and leaving him trembling.
