Page 28

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

A ngelo

I thrust open the door with enough force to rattle the ancient hinges, not waiting for Keir to let me in. As if anticipating me, he waited in the foyer with Steve DuPont. The moment Steve saw me, terror flashed across his face. He backed up against the ornate wallpaper, hands raised in surrender, his whole body trembling.

“Angelo, no.” His voice cracked with fear.

But I was done listening. My hand shot out like a striking cobra, fingers wrapping around his throat. I squeezed tighter and tighter, feeling his pulse flutter beneath my grip like a trapped rat. The scent of his fear filled the air, sharp and acrid.

Keir remained eerily calm, putting his hands behind his back in that aristocratic way of his. “That’s a mistake. He has information.” His quiet authority cut through my rage.

I growled, the sound rumbling deep in my chest, but I dropped him. Steve crumpled to the floor like a discarded puppet. “Talk.”

Enzo came up behind me, his presence tense but silent. The maker-progeny bond between him and Steve hummed with distress, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

Rose and Dimitri hovered behind Enzo. I could smell Rose’s scent and my blood on Dimitri’s shirt. For once, Dimitri kept his sarcasm to himself.

Steve rubbed his throat and swallowed convulsively. His watery eyes reflected the dim light as he struggled to speak. His voice came out raspy. “There was…someone in the graveyard…someone with red eyes.”

He wasn’t the only one who saw them. I stiffened. “Go on.”

He leaned back against the wall as if seeking support. “I followed him… I thought recognized him.”

Enzo looked at him, shifting his weight forward as if preparing to pounce. “Who?”

“Maximo Barone.”

Enzo hissed next to me, the sound like steel on stone. I could feel the emotion rolling off him like a raging waterfall—raw hatred and possessive fury. The mere mention of Maximo’s name was enough to trigger his rage—the mafia boss who had Joy.

“Barone doesn’t have red eyes.” My voice came out cold, calculated.

“I know,” Steve said, his eyes wide with remembered horror. “But I saw him. It was him. I had worked for the man before… but he seemed different. I can’t explain it.” He ran his hand through his amber hair. “Something…was off. He ended up here, then I lost him.” He dropped his arm and leaned back against the wall. “I don’t know how that was possible.”

I glanced at Keir. “Did your men see anyone?”

He nodded. “They saw a red-eyed, dark figure, then they lost him.”

My blood went cold. If Balthazar had been here, watching us all along, he could have learned about the crypt, about Dracula, about our plans to rescue Joy. Every advantage we thought we had might already be compromised. “Balthazar?” I demanded, my mind racing through the implications of the demon lord’s presence so close to everything we were trying to protect. “Balthazar?”

Keir shrugged. “Perhaps. But they say it didn’t feel like a demon.” He rubbed his chin. “However, Balthazar has many friends—it could be another creature. Or a demon that he had designed.”

Enzo glanced at me. “Then Balthazar knows where Dracula is.”

Rose had been silent, her fingers absently tracing the amulet in her palm, but then she looked at Keir, her eyes pleading. The hope and fear in them was almost painful to witness. “Is Valentin…” Her voice trailed off, breaking on his name. The scent of her anxiety filled the air, sharp and bitter.

Keir’s eyes softened, his usual aristocratic mask cracking with genuine compassion. “He’s the same, Rose. He’s fighting the spell, but I’m not sure how much more he can take.”

“I need to see him.” She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, her eyes wide and pleading, reflecting the raw desperation of someone watching a loved one slip away.

I clasped her arm, firm but gentle. “No. First you need to heal Dracula. You’re a Nightshade. You’re the only one who can do this. Just like he’s the only one that can open the gates of hell. If you want to save Valentin, then we need to rescue Serenity.”

She jerked free of my grasp, desperation making her movements sharp and wild. “The amulet and the enchantment healed everyone at the graveyard. It can heal Valentin too.”

She headed toward the staircase that would lead up to Valentin’s room, her footsteps echoing against the marble floors, but Keir stepped in front of her with a fluid grace. Despite his gentle tone, his stance was immovable. “Rose, those items you hold, they’re to cure possession and hellish blades—not dark magic.”

“I have to try.” The words came out choked, heavy with unshed tears as she turned to leave.

“In the meantime,” Keir said softly. “What if Balthazar attacks my home and retrieves Dracula? My magic is powerful but not strong enough to withstand the power of hell.” He paused as if waiting for her to absorb what he was saying. “And if that happens and those items don’t work, how long do you think Valentin will remain alive?”

Dimitri put his hand on her lower back, his usual sardonic mask slipping just enough to reveal the raw worry for his brother underneath. “I want to save Valentin more than anything too, Rose, but let’s not kid ourselves here. Those potions? They’re like trying to put out hellfire with a garden hose.” His blue eyes darkened with barely contained emotion. “We know Dracula can open the gates of hell, then we can get our little Nephilim back. And Serenity—” his voice roughened slightly at her name “—she’s the only one with the juice to pull this off. Everything else is just fairy dust.”

Her back stiffened. She turned slightly, her face a mask of barely controlled emotions. “Fine. I’ll use the amulet to try and heal Dracula.”

Keir put his hand gently on her shoulder, his ancient eyes filled with understanding. “Have faith, Rose. You’re a powerful vampire and powerful witch. If you can’t heal him, no one can.”

My patience was growing thin. Balthazar could be on his way with an army. Enzo clasped my arm and shook his head wordlessly.

Rose came down the stairs and we headed to where Keir kept Dracula. The First Vampire was still strung up, his head was down, his dark hair covering his face.

He raised his head, defiance blazing in his eyes despite his weakened state. “Here to feed again, blood sucker?” The words came out as a raspy snarl, hatred dripping from each syllable.

I gave him a piercing stare, centuries of power behind my gaze. “No. To heal you.”

Fear flashed in his eyes as Rose stepped around me, her movements purposeful and determined. She held the white amulet up, and the engraved star blazed to life, bathing the room in brilliant white light that made the shadows retreat to the corners. The power emanating from it hummed in the air like static electricity.

Dracula yanked on the chains, the ancient metal groaning under his supernatural strength. “If you touch me with that damn amulet, I swear I’ll hunt you down and kill you..” His voice was different, more raspy, thin, not my maker’s voice at all—like sandpaper on rust. The sound made my undead heart clench with a mixture of rage and grief.

It was probably the demon’s voice, a corruption of the powerful vampire who had given me immortality.

“Do it,” I said. “Time isn’t on our side.” The words tasted bitter in my mouth.

Rose slowly walked toward Dracula, each step measured and deliberate, the amulet pulsing with white light in her trembling hand. The other hand clutched the potion bowl, where white smoke jetted out like pure moonlight given form, curling and dancing in the air with divine purpose.

“Stay away from me, bitch.” His eyes turned pitch black, like holes torn in reality itself, and thick, viscous drool ran down his chin. He spat at her, blood spraying onto her face and shirt with a sickening hiss.

The blood seemed foul, tainted with evil—it carried the stench of sulfur and decay, making the air itself feel corrupted.

Rose cried out but didn’t falter, her determination burning brighter than her fear. She raced over to Dracula and pressed the stone against his forehead. The contact sparked like a match to gasoline. He twisted and arched his back, his body contorting at impossible angles.

The white smoke shot into his mouth like a living thing, seeking out the darkness within him.

Black smoke poured out of his mouth in response, thick and oily, bringing with it the stench of brimstone and ancient corruption. It swirled out the door like a sentient shadow, as if trying to find its way back to the hell that spawned it.

Dracula slumped in the chains, his head tilting back in exhaustion. Sweat glistened over his body like a fever finally breaking, the sheen catching the dim light of the room.

Rose staggered back as if an invisible force hit her. Her eyes fluttered shut and her arms went slack. She dropped the amulet and bowl, but Dimitri moved with lightning speed, catching both of them before they hit the pavement.

He caught her in his arms, his hard eyes softening with concern. “Easy there, little witch. Can’t have you passing out before the real fun begins.”

Keir put his hand on Dracula’s slick forehead and closed his eyes. It looked like Dracula was healed, but it could be an illusion. Keir scowled and tilted his head back and forth as if he was having a nightmare.

I held my breath waiting for him to speak, the silence stretching like a taut wire ready to snap. Each second felt like an eternity, the weight of our failed attempt settling heavier on my shoulders. Maybe the amulet and smoke hadn’t worked. “Well?” My voice came out sharper than intended, betraying my anxiety.

Keir opened his eyes slowly, the movement deliberate and weary. He rubbed his forehead as if trying to ease away centuries of burden. “He’s no longer possessed, but he’s fallen into a deep sleep. I’ve called him back from oblivion, telling him that Julienne needs him.” He paused, uncertainty creeping into his usually confident tone. “I don’t know if he heard me. He could remain unconscious for some time.”

“Blood. He needs blood,” I said, as I bit into my wrist. The sharp crack of fang against flesh echoed in the room.

I held my wrist under Dracula’s nose, watching intently for any sign of response. His eyes opened, and relief flooded through me at the sight of familiar brown irises instead of that demonic black void. His fangs lengthened with a predatory grace then sank into my flesh, sucking hard. My power began draining like a deflating balloon, each pull of his mouth drawing away more of my strength. The corners of my vision blurred, darkness creeping in like spilled ink.

“That’s enough.” Enzo yanked me back hard, his fingers digging into shoulders with vampire strength.

Dracula’s fangs ripped my flesh as we separated, tearing a jagged path through my wrist. I grimaced at the sharp burst of pain. My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and I shook it, trying to force my vision to become clear. The room swayed slightly, like being on a ship in rough waters.

Chains clinked through the heavy silence, followed by someone’s weary sigh that betrayed centuries of exhaustion.

“Thank you, Angelo,” Dracula said, his voice finally, blessedly familiar—the voice that had guided me through centuries. “Keir, I’m no longer possessed. Will you please release these bindings?”

Keir stared at him with the intensity of someone reading an ancient text, searching for hidden meanings. “I don’t sense any evil within you, Vlad.”

He used Dracula’s real name—Vlad—and the significance of it shot through me like lightning. Something fundamental had shifted. My vision sharpened, the fog of blood loss finally clearing enough to really see him.

Dracula stared at me, my blood still fresh on his chin, dripping slowly like crimson tears. His eyes held a desperate urgency I’d never seen before. “Are you ready to go get your mate?”

A feral grin split my face, tasting of vengeance and promise. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Then get these damn chains off me.” His eyes widened, pupils dilating as he jerked frantically at his bonds. “I can’t feel Julienne anymore. Something’s wrong. We need to go now.”

My heart stilled in my chest, a moment of pure, crystallized dread. “What about Serenity?”

Vlad’s eyes turned glossy. “They’re both in trouble.”

Fuck. His words echoed in my mind like a death knell. I had waited too long.

Suddenly, another white light plowed into me again, picking me up off the floor and slamming me against the ceiling. Stars swam around my vision.

Angelo, hurry.

The voice pierced through the haze of pain, familiar yet distorted, as if traveling across an impossible distance. Serenity.

My fangs extended involuntarily, a response to both the threat and the visceral need to protect what was mine.

The white light pulsed again, more insistent this time. Each burst felt like holy fire against my flesh, a reminder that I straddled two worlds—the criminal empire I’d built and the divine war I’d stumbled into.

Through our connection, I witnessed Balthazar’s unbridled fury. It was the first time Serenity had sent me a vision. Before, I had only heard her words in my head.

His power slammed against her opalescent wings like waves of acid rain, each impact punctuated by guttural curses that made the very air of hell ripple. But her feathers held firm, a living shield that even a demon lord couldn’t penetrate. I could feel his frustration building to a maddening crescendo as he hurled himself against her sanctuary, his roars of rage echoing through both our minds.

The connection splintered, her last words barely a whisper: He’s losing control. Balthazar... his rage... I can’t hold him back much longer.

The vision released me and I slammed back into my body with enough force to make my fangs tear through my bottom lip. Blood filled my mouth as my hands clawed into the ceiling, leaving deep gouges in the plaster. A roar ripped from my throat—primal, savage—the sound of a predator whose mate was threatened. The scent of fear filled the room, sharp and metallic, as power cascaded from my form like a dark waterfall.

I dropped from the ceiling, landing in a predatory crouch. Everyone took a step back, even Keir and Enzo. They’d seen me kill, seen me wage war against rival families, but they’d never seen me like this. The vampire in me was fully unleashed, and it wanted blood.

The time for deliberation was over.

“Free Vlad,” I growled. “And find me a way into hell.”