Chapter

Thirty-Eight

S erenity

My heart thundered against my ribs as I waited for Angelo’s response, acutely aware of how his arm trembled around my shoulders. The familiar scent of sandalwood and night air that clung to him did little to calm my nerves. His fingers dug almost painfully into my skin—not from anger, but from the raw fear of losing me.

“Vlad, will Raphael be with Michael?” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. Just saying their names sent electricity dancing across my shoulder blades where my wings—still so new, still so strange—flexed unconsciously. Power thrummed through me like a live wire, making the very air around us crackle with energy. It was intoxicating, this newfound strength, but terrifying in its intensity.

Vlad’s ancient eyes met mine, dark and fathomless as the centuries he’d witnessed. “Raphael usually fights along with Michael, so yes, he’ll probably be there.”

Angelo’s arm tightened around me. I pressed closer to his side, trying to convey without words that his protective instincts, while touching, couldn’t override what we both knew to be true—I had changed. The Nephilim blood flowing through my veins meant I was no longer just someone to be protected. I was a warrior now, whether he was ready to accept that or not.

“They will be looking for us to come with Angelo.” Enzo’s jaw tightened as he paced the stone floor. “Petar will have spies—most likely our possessed men—to see if we follow his command.”

My stomach churned at the thought of having to fight or possibly even kill Angelo’s men who he considered to be family.

An Unseelie guard burst through the heavy wooden doors. “Lord Keir, Trystan Hunter,” the guard’s voice echoed off the chamber walls, “he brings news.”

Trystan brushed past him, leaves and mud still clinging to his leather boots. The grim set of his mouth made my heart skip. Whatever news he carried, it wasn’t good. “We have another problem.” His hands clenched at his sides. “My trackers have found out that Petar is holding Prince Rocco at St. Louis Cathedral.”

I sucked in my breath as the memory of that night clawed its way back: Balthazar’s cruel smile, the sickening pull of magic as my body betrayed me, draining Rocco’s power against my will. My hands trembled and tears gathered in my eyes, hot with shame. Even now, I could feel the echo of his strength inside me, a constant reminder of what I’d been forced to do.

“Is he possessed again?” The words came out broken, barely a whisper. After what I’d done—what Balthazar had made me do—I hardly dared to hope.

Trystan shrugged. “I don’t know.”

My limbs went numb as the memory flooded back—my hands forced against the prince’s chest, that terrible pulling sensation as his power flowed into me, draining away his life force while his eyes dulled with each passing second. My mouth went dry and a cold sweat broke across my skin. The phantom sensation of that stolen power still burned through my veins, foreign and wrong. What if Balthazar caught me and made me do that again to the prince? I couldn’t bear being turned into a parasite, feeding off the prince’s essence while screaming silently inside my own mind.

Their stares bored into me; Enzo’s sharp scrutiny, Angelo’s growing suspicion, Trystan’s confusion. Only Vlad’s expression remained carefully neutral. A flash of understanding crossed his face, and I wondered if Julienne had already told him the truth of that horrible night.

I bowed my head, unable to meet their eyes. “Balthazar?—”

“Balthazar what?” Angelo’s growl echoed off the walls, making me flinch.

My throat constricted painfully as the words I’d been dreading to speak finally spilled out. “He forced me... he forced me to drain Rocco’s power. I didn’t want to do it.” The admission tasted like poison in my mouth. I nearly drowned in a pool of guilt, the remorse rising like dark water around me, filling my lungs and clouding my vision until I could see nothing but my own failures reflected back at me.

Enzo frowned. “Why did he want you to?”

“He wanted me to learn how to drain supernaturals so I could finally drain Raphael enough...” I swallowed hard, my throat tight with the horror of Balthazar’s plan. “So he could kill him. If I didn’t do what he asked, he said you would die.” I looked at Angelo. “I couldn’t bear that.”

“Serenity,” Vlad said.

I forced myself to look at him, waiting for judgment.

But his eyes met mine, the wisdom of ages softening their dark depths. “Was the prince possessed when you did that? The prince and I both were.”

“When he first came, he was...” The memory of that night sliced through me: Rocco’s agonized face, the sickening pull of power, my own screams mixing with his. “But when I woke up the next morning, the demon was gone. Balthazar wanted to see if I could draw a vampire’s power...” I broke out in a broken sob, shaking so hard I could barely stand.

Angelo gripped my shoulders, his touch fierce and warm against the cold horror of the memory. “This wasn’t your fault. You were trapped in hell.” His voice roughened with protective fury. “Balthazar mind fucks people. That’s what he does. He’s a demon.”

“We move at midnight.” Enzo’s voice cut through my guilt like a siren, piercing and unavoidable. “The cathedral... Balthazar’s twisted it into something evil. That demon corrupted holy ground, turned it into his own dark playground.” His jaw tightened. “But Angelo has to go in alone, or Petar will kill Gianna.”

“I can position my wolves in the swamp,” Trystan said, his eyes gleaming with predatory focus. “We’ll catch any demon’s scent before they catch ours.”

Keir nodded, his wings rustling in the shadows. “My harpies will take the perimeter. Silent. Watching. But far enough back that Petar’s spies won’t spot us.”

“And the rest of us?” I asked, hating the idea of Angelo walking into that corrupted place alone. I wanted to go with him, but he would never let me.

“We stay put and do nothing while my mate’s in there?” Dimitri’s voice was deadly quiet, his usual cynical sneer replaced with barely contained rage. His hands clenched into fists, veins darkening beneath his skin. “Fantastic plan. Really. I especially love the part where we sit on our asses while Petar holds a knife to her throat.”

Angelo’s eyes turned cold, that deadly calm I’d seen when he dealt with enemies settling over him. “You think I want to leave her in there another second? But if any of you compromise her safety by showing yourselves...”

Dimitri’s laugh was bitter. “Right. Because waiting out here is so much safer. Just know if anything happens to her, I’m ripping out spines first, asking questions never.”

We had strategized all day and now we were here, but I was still worried. What if our plan backfired?

As midnight approached, I stood in the murky shadows of Lumina Glade as planned, my heart thundering against my ribs. The abandoned cathedral loomed before us, radiating waves of Balthazar’s corrupt magic that made my teeth ache. Twisted spires clawed at the star-strewn sky, and demonic energy pulsed from within its rotting walls. Somewhere in that defiled sanctuary, Rocco waited. The same vampire I’d been forced to drain in hell. My stomach twisted at the memory.

Angelo turned to me, his expression softening for just a moment. “Remember what I said, bella. What happened before wasn’t your fault. Tonight, we make it right.”

I nodded, not sure what else to say. Petar was desperate to keep his crown and he was using Gianna to lure Angelo into a trap, but what choice did Angelo have?

The bayou, usually alive with a symphony of frogs and crickets, had fallen into an unnatural silence. Even the swamp creatures sensed the evil radiating from those corrupted walls. The stillness set every nerve on edge, raising the hair on my body until my skin prickled with dread.

Angelo moved toward the cathedral with predatory precision, a dark shadow against the decaying stone. He moved with lethal grace, his black duster swirling around his boots. I knew the silver blade was concealed beneath the long coat’s folds, but my stomach churned at the thought; Balthazar would be expecting it. The demon who’d tormented me in hell would be thirsting for revenge against Angelo, planning something worse than a simple ambush.

Behind me, Dimitri let out a low growl. It wasn’t the first time tonight they’d had to hold him back from charging into the cathedral after Gianna. The barely contained fury in his rigid stance told me it wouldn’t be the last.

The others melted into their positions, becoming one with the shadows. The only sound was the whisper of rot-heavy air blowing through the twisted spires above.

I struggled to keep my wings tucked inside me, fighting their instinct to burst free. They sensed the evil seeping from the cathedral; yearned to spread wide and chase away the darkness. But if they manifested now, Balthazar would know exactly where I was hiding. The demon who’d tormented me would do everything in his power to drag me back to hell.

My fingers brushed the blade at my side, its weight a reminder of how much I’d changed. This time, if he came for me, I wouldn’t be his victim.

The cathedral doors creaked open with an otherworldly groan, swinging wide on rusted hinges though no human hand touched them. The stench of evil billowed out like smoke from a grave, rotting and sweet and wrong. I buried my face into my shoulder, choking back a cough that could betray us all. My eyes watered from the putrid assault.

Without hesitation, without a backward glance, Angelo stepped across the threshold. His silhouette was swallowed by the darkness within. The doors slammed shut behind him with an earth-shattering boom that echoed through the swamp, sending birds fleeing from distant trees.

Fear struck my heart like an icy blade. The last time I’d smelled evil that strong was in hell itself. And now Angelo was trapped inside with it.