Page 31

Chapter

Thirty-One

S erenity

A crack like thunder split the air, followed by a boom that shook the mansion to its foundations. Fine china shattered, walls split like paper, and darkness seeped through the cracks like blood.

“They’ll never find you.” His voice dripped venom as he seized me then Poison, tossing us into Julienne’s room like discarded dolls. Julienne lay there unchanged, her face still deathly pale, trapped in whatever nightmare held her captive.

He slammed the door. I ran over, pounding it. “No! Balthazar open it.”

But I was greeted with a deadly silence. I clutched my fists and leaned my forehead against the door. What had I done? Mom was now condemned to oblivion. It was all my fault. I wasn’t even sure that noise was Angelo. It could be anything. For all I knew, it could be Lucifer summoning Balthazar.

I turned around and slumped down against the door, my body heavy with despair. Poison lay crumpled on the floor, while Julienne remained on the bed, lost in whatever spell held her captive. My mother got cancer before my healing ability had surfaced, yet I always felt guilty about that—as if I should have somehow found a way to save her. And now Poison and Julienne were just two more names on the growing list of people I had failed. The memory of my useless attempts to help them made my chest ache.

But maybe with my wings, maybe I could save at least one of them. An angel was probably more powerful than a vampire, so I made a difficult choice.

I knelt next to Poison’s broken form, drawing deep on my power until tingles of energy swept through my entire body. My hands began to glow with holy light, my wings creating gusts of wind as they beat against the sulfurous air. “Poison, awake.”

At first nothing happened, and my heart sank. But then a white glow, pure as starlight, slowly enveloped Poison’s body. Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared up at me with a mix of curiosity and awe, as if seeing me—truly seeing me—for the first time.

“You healed me,” she whispered.

“Yes.” I dropped my arms. That’s when it hit me. I wasn’t drained like I normally was after healing. Something was different. When I’d drained Poison earlier—taken her power into myself—that’s when my wings had emerged. And now that same power was flowing through me, stronger than ever.

Poison clasped my arm, her grip urgent and intense. “You’re powerful. Archangel powerful.”

I laughed bitterly. “I’m hardly an archangel.”

She grinned as she pushed herself up, her movements still slightly unsteady. “No, but you contain a power that’s stronger than most angels.”

I blinked, my mind struggling to process her words. “I do? Am I stronger than you?” My voice came out smaller than I intended.

“No.” Her expression turned serious, almost reverent. “Not many angels are stronger than a Dark Angel. We get our power from Michael, but yours isn’t like mine. It’s a healing power like Raphael’s.”

I met her gaze, my heart pounding with the question that has burned inside me ever since I learned I was a Nephilim. “I’m not sure if Balthazar was telling the truth. But is Raphael my father?”

“Perhaps.” Poison’s eyes held ancient knowledge, a knowledge I was desperate to learn. “Nephilim’s are formed from a human and an angel, and based on your healing power, it could be him. You’re definitely stronger than most angels, and that’s saying something.”

I walked over to the door and slammed my fist against it. “But not strong enough to open this damn door.”

She came over and put her hand on my shoulder, her touch unexpectedly gentle for a Dark Angel. “Balthazar won’t open it until he’s ready.”

I rested my forehead against the wood, defeat washing over me. “I think I made a deadly mistake.”

“What?”

“I called for Angelo, then something shook this place. It was like an earthquake. Since I’ve been here, I’ve never felt anything like it.” I glanced around the room, taking in the cracks in the walls, the evidence of power that had ripped through the mansion. “Then Balthazar threw us in here, saying that they would never find us, but he didn’t say who ‘they’ were.” A tear slipped down my cheek. “But not before he promised to throw my mother into oblivion.”

She grinned, a fierce light in her dark eyes. “I believe it’s our rescue party. Angelo is coming for you. Don’t you feel him? And as far as your mother, you have the power to save her. Draw on your love for her. It takes a great deal of energy to restrain a soul.” Poison gestured toward my wings. “You have the power of an archangel. Call to her.”

That sounded too easy. But I was desperate to save her. I closed my eyes, thinking of the pure white ball that had danced in Balthazar’s stretched out palm. I closed my eyes, reaching for that well of power inside me. “Mom, come to me.”

Screams and cries of agony thundered outside the door, making the very air vibrate with torment. My heart clenched, the sound nearly stealing my breath.

I looked at Poison questioningly, fear making my wings tremble.

“Don’t stop.” Her voice cut through the chaos like steel. “You must save your mother before that door opens.” She edged closer to the door, clenching her fists as dark power radiated from her battle-ready stance.

“Mom, come to me!” My voice rang out with desperate power, echoing through the hellish chamber.

The door exploded inward, wood splintering like shrapnel. I braced myself for Balthazar’s rage, for his promised vengeance?—

But then I saw him.

Angelo stood in the doorway, his clothes shredded and soaked with blood both fresh and dried. Burn marks scored his arms and chest, the flesh still smoking from hellfire. His shirt hung in tatters, revealing wounds that even vampire healing hadn’t fully closed. But his eyes—his eyes blazed with a fierce determination that made even hell’s darkness seem to retreat.

Tears flooded my own eyes, distorting the world around me as Angelo seized me into his powerful embrace. His lips crashed onto mine with a ferocious hunger, an insatiable need that screamed of countless nights spent scouring the depths of despair, of an unyielding determination that had dragged him through hell and back. I dissolved into him, my savior, my unyielding fortress, as the fractured fragments of my shattered existence finally snapped back into place with a resounding clarity.

A surge of raw energy detonated within me, a power I had never imagined I could wield. Desperately, I wrapped my fingers through his long hair, driven by an urgent need to confirm it was truly him and not Balthazar. Yet every fiber of my being screamed the truth—my heart recognized him, my body was certain.

He broke off the kiss, but our bond thrummed between us like a living thing. “I’ve got to get you out of here.”

“My mom...” But the words died on my lips as I saw it: a sphere of pristine light dancing behind Angelo, defying the very darkness of hell itself. The pure white radiance pulsed with my mother’s essence, with every moment of love we’d ever shared.

“Your love brought her,” Poison whispered, wonder breaking through her usual fierceness. “Love conquers darkness. Always.”

“Julienne.” Vlad’s voice cracked with centuries of longing as he rushed into the room. Like Angelo, his clothes were tattered, hellfire burns scoring his ancient flesh. But it was his face that struck me: nothing like the composed headmaster I’d heard ruled the academy with quiet authority. In his place stood a warrior prince of darkness, raw and desperate, ready to claim his queen.

He materialized beside Julienne’s still form in a blur of vampire speed. The anguish in his eyes made something in my chest ache. Dracula himself, brought low by love. His hands trembled as he clutched her shoulders. “Wake up.”

“Kiss her,” Poison pointed toward Julienne. “Trust me.”

Vlad brushed his lips over Julienne’s, a kiss as gentle as moonlight. White light bloomed from where their lips met, rippling outward like waves of starlight, chasing away the dark spell that had imprisoned her. The very air seemed to lift, shimmering with ancient magic as color flooded back into her pale cheeks. Her eyes fluttered open, clear and bright as if waking from a hundred years of darkness.

“Vlad.” His name was like a prayer on her lips. “Vlad.” She slipped her arms around his neck, her movements fragile but desperate. He lifted her into his arms as if she were made of precious glass, cradling her against his ravaged body as centuries of longing crystallized into this single moment.

Angelo clasped my hand, his grip fierce with urgency. “We have to get out of here before we’re ambushed.”

“Mom, follow me.” I glanced over my shoulder, watching as her luminous soul pulsed in response, dancing after us like a star torn free from heaven.

The scene in the hallway made my blood freeze. Enzo, Dimitri, and Keir stood with swords drawn, their blades streaming with black demon blood. Bodies of fallen demons and hellhounds littered the floor, their flesh still smoking. The harpies perched on broken pillars, their magnificent wings and deadly talons dripping darkness, their black eyes gleaming with promised violence.

Balthazar lounged against the wall, looking almost amused by the carnage in his domain. His casual posture couldn’t hide the lethal power that burst around him like an explosion. “You’ll never leave here alive.”