Page 9

Chapter

Nine

S erenity

I rested my head in my hands then scrubbed my face. The sulfurous air of hell made my skin prickle, a constant reminder of how far I was from Earth…from Angelo. Damn, Balthazar. It was as if he was obsessed with the DuPonts. There had to be a reason. I dropped my arms and leaned back against the sofa, its leather unnaturally warm against my back—everything in hell burned, a stark contrast to the cool touch I longed for..

“I see you’re disappointed,” Balthazar drawled. He lounged across from me like some infernal rock god, his long black hair falling in silken waves past his bare shoulders. The leather pants rode low on his hips, his exposed torso a masterpiece of sculptured muscle that would make Renaissance artists weep. The perfect features of his face twisted into a smile that would make most humans sell their souls on the spot—and many had.

Julienne reached over and clasped my hand, her vampiric touch blessedly cool against hell’s perpetual heat. She squeezed it, trying to give me reassurance, but the only one that could do this for me was Angelo. Who knew where he was up on Earth? The vampire who held my heart was an entire dimension away, and I missed him so much my chest felt hollow.

Don’t cry Don’t cry Don’t cry .

Balthazar fed on tears, enjoyed watching people suffer, and I wouldn’t give this beautiful bastard that satisfaction.

Steve stood there like a statue, not moving. He didn’t drool, he didn’t glance at me, didn’t show a single sign of life. The emptiness in his eyes made my stomach turn—he was as lifeless as a mannequin in a department store window.

Balthazar reached past Julienne and patted my knee, his touch burning through my jeans like a brand. “Are you ready to begin your lesson?”

I braced my shoulders, my muscles coiling tight enough to snap. Uncontrollable anger surged through me, hot and bitter as bile in my mouth. I wanted to scream and tell him to go fuck himself, to rip that smug smile off his perfect face—but the memory of Shannon’s blood splattering the floor from last lesson froze the words on my tongue. I couldn’t watch Balthazar tear out Steve’s throat like he had Shannon’s because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

Julienne gave me a sad look, the kind reserved for watching someone sign their own death warrant. Maybe that’s exactly what I was doing. But getting back to Angelo was worth any price—even if that price was pieces of my soul.

I reluctantly pushed myself off the couch, each step toward Steve feeling like I was wading through quicksand. He was so still I didn’t even know if he was breathing. My fingers trembled as I clasped his hand—ice cold, corpse cold. The question hit me like a punch to the gut: was he even human anymore? Had his soul leaked away like smoke, the way Louis’ had?

I bit my lip hard enough to taste copper and released him, trying to ignore how my hand shook.

Balthazar studied me, his eyes glittering with something that made my skin crawl. “If you’re wondering if his soul’s intact, it is.”

I wasn’t sure I believed him. Balthazar was a house of lies, each one more seductive than the last. Every word from his perfect mouth could be poison wrapped in honey.

He clasped my arm, his touch burning like frostbite on my skin. “For this lesson, I want you to draw on your power and say ‘ Tenebris Velare ’—‘ tenebris ’ means shadows, and ‘ velare ’ means to conceal or veil. As you speak the words, picture wrapping Steve DuPont in darkness.”

I eyed him warily, dread coiling in my stomach. The spell had to do more than just cloak someone—and I now knew it was likely to tear away a piece of my soul with each use. My mind raced, searching for an anchor against the darkness. Angelo’s face bloomed in my thoughts, and with it came a surge of pure, fierce love. That was my weapon. Something clean and bright that Balthazar, for all his power, couldn’t touch or understand. Maybe it was strong enough to shield my soul from whatever darkness lurked in his lessons.

I took a deep breath, tasting sulfur and ash. On the couch, Julienne sat ramrod straight, coiled like a spring ready to snap. Her ancient vampire eyes never left my face, watching... waiting. Was she ready to stop me if the spell corrupted me? If I went dark side like so many others probably had?

“Say it, Nephilim. Draw on your power.” Balthazar’s words slithered through the air like smoke.

I wanted to tell Steve I was sorry, but I didn’t know if he could hear me through whatever prison held his mind. But what if he could? What if he was screaming inside, trapped in his own body?

Angelo would know. His handsome face flashed in my mind. I could almost feel his lips next to my ear whispering that I was his and he would protect me.

Angelo, where are you?

The moment his name crossed my mind, my heart fluttered like a caged canary. Tingles swept over my skin, and warmth bloomed through my chest as if his strong arms were wrapping around me from across the realms. I tilted my head back, drinking in the phantom embrace, clinging to this thread of connection.

A violent snarl ripped through the air, followed by savage scratching that made my skin run cold.

“Don’t call out to Angelo,” Balthazar’s voice cut through my reverie, sharp as a blade. “They can hear you.” The threat in his words chilled the lingering warmth of Angelo’s phantom touch.

I opened my eyes, forcing myself back to this hellish reality. My hand trembled as I placed it on Steve’s chest, feeling the faint beat of his imprisoned heart. “I’m sorry— Tenebris Velare .”

My body trembled as power stirred in my depths, writhing beneath my ribs. My mouth opened of its own accord, and an invisible force clawed down my throat, reaching into my chest to pull forth my essence. White stars poured from my lips, swirling around Steve like a miniature constellation caught in a whirlwind.

Pain ripped through me as if those invisible claws had shredded my insides. I doubled over, clutching my middle, the agony stealing my breath. Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill.

“Not quite,” Balthazar said, his bare feet silent as he circled Steve and me like a wolf sizing up wounded doe.

Steve had faded to a ghostly outline, but he was still there—another failure, another potential price to pay.

Someone came alongside me, and the scent of sweet spices wrapped around me like a familiar embrace. Julienne. Her cool hand rubbed gentle circles on my back, a small comfort in this hell.

“Balthazar—” Her voice held a warning.

He held up his hand. “Silence.” His long fingers caught my chin, forcing my face up to meet his gaze. “I can still see Steve. Second lesson begins now.”

As I slowly stood up, Julienne clasped my arm, her grip gentle but insistent. “You need to sit down.”

I shook my head. I refused to let Balthazar torture Steve or even Julienne. Not because of my weakness.

“I’m fine, Julienne.” The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, and from the way she tightened her grip, I wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Good,” Balthazar said as gestured toward Steve with one elegant hand. “Try again.”

I moistened my lips, bracing for the horror to come. “ Tenebris Velare .”

The same clawing sensation reached down my throat, scratching me with long fingernails, ripping through my insides like barbed wire. The same white stars erupted from me, whirling twice as fast as before, a violent constellation that swallowed Steve whole until he vanished into the whiteness.

“Ah, I knew you could do it, beautiful. Your power is growing. You did this on your second try.” Balthazar’s praise circled around me like a caress that promised pain.

But the anguish was twice as savage, the pain a hot knife gutting me from within. My legs buckled beneath me, but Julienne caught me before I hit the ground. Her steadying touch reminded of different arms, of how Angelo had never let me fall.

Angelo, find me.

The silent plea echoed in the hollow spaces where my power had been torn away.

Bam Bam Bam

Wood splintered and angry snarls grew louder, the sound of hellhounds hungry for victims.

“Why do you defy me?” Balthazar gripped my chin hard enough to bruise. “He can’t help you.”

I wasn’t sure, but beneath his rage, I caught something else in those otherworldly eyes—fear. Fear of Angelo? No. But perhaps of losing his grip on me, of having his prize stolen away…

Julienne helped me to the sofa, her touch still blessedly cool against my fever-hot skin. “She did what you wanted, Balthazar. Why was it so important for her to cloak Steve?”

Balthazar shrugged, the casual gesture at odds with the tension crackling through the room. “Because a client requested a favor.”

I sat taller despite the pain punching my insides. Dread crawled up my sore throat, nearly choking the word. “Who?”

“Maximo Barone. He asked me to kill someone for him.”

The blood drained from my face, leaving me light-headed.

Not Angelo. Not Angelo. Not Angelo.

Balthazar’s lips curved into a smile that promised a nasty surprise. “Don’t worry love, it’s not your fallen king. No, the contract is for Enzo Di Salvo.”

“No!” The word tore from my throat. Enzo—who’d stood by Angelo through centuries, who’d become like a brother to us both. My heart slammed against my ribs as the room spun. “You can’t—I won’t let you?—”

The pain in my gut forgotten, I lurched forward, but Julienne’s grip held me back. Balthazar had just forced me to help him set up Enzo’s murder. The betrayal burned worse than any spell.