Page 10 of Cry of Blood and Joy (French Quarter Vampire Enforcer #2)

Chapter Nine

Joy

Enzo had been gone way too long. The silence in the empty house seemed to amplify every creak of the old floorboards, every whisper of wind through the gaps in the windows.

What if Angelo found him? The thought chipped away at my hope that he would return.

Images of him being cornered, outnumbered, bleeding, they made my heart sick.

I paced back and forth in the living room, my footsteps echoing in the hollow space like a frantic heartbeat. My brother lay curled against the far wall, his dark red hair hiding his troubled face. After hours of restless shifting and quiet groans of pain, he had finally fallen asleep.

But he was sluggish with the daylight filtering through the dust-streaked windows, growing weaker with every ray that seemed to reach out and burn him. Not even my shadows were strong enough to keep out the power of the sun.

His labored breathing drifted across the room, each rattling inhale precious because it assured me he was still alive.

The sound was the only thing keeping me from complete panic.

He needed blood to heal his wounds properly; the gashes on his arms and the bruising along his ribs that I’d caused in my moment of terror.

But he’d refused to take mine, shaking his head weakly even as crimson seeped through his torn shirt.

Stubborn idiot. I crossed my arms over my chest and sighed heavily, the sound echoing in the empty living room.

The shadows in the corners seemed to respond to my frustration, rippling and undulating like dark water disturbed by wind.

Black tendrils crept along the baseboards, reaching toward me with an eagerness that made my skin prickle.

No, no, no. I tried to take a deep breath, forcing my shoulders to relax as I fought to remain calm.

The shadows hesitated, wavering between advancing and retreating as they sensed my internal battle.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears, and I could feel that familiar tingling sensation building beneath my skin—the warning sign that my powers were stirring.

Breathe , I commanded myself. Just breathe .

The shadows stopped moving, but tension hovered over the room like a living thing, thick and oppressive in the stagnant air.

Their presence lurked in every corner, pooling beneath the broken windowsill, gathering in the spaces where the afternoon light couldn’t quite reach.

It was as if the shadows knew I was still upset, could taste my frustration and fear like blood in the water, and they were ready to protect me whether I wanted them to or not.

The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up with the thought of their watchful presence.

They weren’t gone—just waiting, coiled like rattlesnakes ready to strike at the first sign of real danger.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees, and I could swear I felt invisible fingers brushing against my arms, offering comfort I was too afraid to accept.

They didn’t understand the difference between helping and hurting.

A chill seeped into my bones as the shadows’ unnatural cold fingers crawled over my skin.

To them, my brother’s refusal to take my blood might seem like a threat to my wellbeing.

I needed to protect Steve. The wall I’d accidentally destroyed was proof of what happened when they decided someone was a danger to me.

I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, trying to project calm I didn’t feel.

Guilt ate at me from the inside. The splintered cracks on the wall were still visible, a dark reminder of how dangerous I’d become.

How many more people would I hurt before I learned to control this chaos inside me?

The question haunted every step I took, every glance at my brother’s bruised form.

I thought I was getting a handle on my powers, slowly learning to feel the shadows before they erupted.

But when I became angry—really, truly furious—everything changed.

Control became a joke, and I became a weapon that couldn’t distinguish between friend and foe.

A shadow moved in front of the window. I pressed myself against the wall, terror flooding through me. My hands shook uncontrollably, and cold sweat broke out across my skin, making my shirt cling to my back. The metallic taste of fear filled my mouth. Angelo was here. He’d found us.

Adrenaline burst inside me like a dam breaking. My heart hammered against my ribs as I stumbled across the room to Steve, nearly tripping over my own feet. ‘Steve!’ I gasped, my voice barely a whisper.

I held out my palms with trembling fingers, drawing on the shadows, praying this time they would obey me.

The familiar electric tingles swept over me as darkness pooled in my hands, cool and responsive.

But my chest tightened with dread. What if I lost control again? What if I made Steve’s injuries worse?

I forced myself to take deep breaths.

Stay Calm Stay Calm Stay Calm

“Protect us,” I whispered, my voice cracking with desperation.

The shadows surged toward us, wrapping around Steve and me so tightly I could barely breathe. They pressed against my skin with desperate intensity, as if trying to pull us both into some dark hiding place where nothing could reach us.

The front door creaked open with a groan that echoed through the empty house, the sound making my heart leap into my throat.

A dark shape slipped inside, nothing more than a silhouette against the harsh afternoon light streaming through the doorway.

My muscles coiled tight, ready to run or fight, as the shadows in the room surged toward me like loyal guard dogs sensing danger.

“Stay away from us,” I said, as I positioned myself between the intruder and my sleeping brother. I refused to show any fear although I shook violently. I held out my palms, poised for a fight.

“Joy, it’s me.”

Oh god. Enzo. It was Enzo. A shaky laugh escaped me, part hysteria, part relief. Deep gratitude crashed over me like a physical wave, making my knees weak. I rushed into his waiting arms, desperate to feel his solid warmth against me, to prove he was really here and safe.

I opened my mouth to say something—to demand answers, to scold him for staying away so long—but his lips were on mine before I could speak.

He kissed me with desperate intensity, as if he’d thought he might never see me again, and I melted against him.

Heat flooded through my body, making me dizzy with desire despite my lingering fear.

For a moment, the empty house, my injured brother, and all our troubles faded away.

But reality crashed back as quickly as it had left.

“I was so worried about you,” I gasped against his mouth, my heart still hammering from both the kiss and hours of anxiety.

“Did you see Angelo? What happened with Keir?” I pulled back from him, my hands fisting in his shirt as anger replaced relief.

“Don’t ever do that again. Don’t leave me wondering if you’re alive or dead. ”

Something dark flickered across his features.

He frowned as he looked over my head toward where my brother lay sleeping against the cracked wall.

The spider web of damage spread across the plaster like a scar, chunks of debris still scattered on the floor around Steve’s motionless form.

I could see the tension creeping back into his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened as he took in the destruction, the weight of whatever he’d learned at Keir’s settling on him like a heavy cloak.

His expression hardened like concrete setting. “What happened to the wall?”

Shame crashed over me in burning waves. I lowered my head, unable to meet his eyes as heat swelled over my cheeks, making my skin feel tight and flushed. The urge to disappear, to sink into the shadows themselves, was almost overwhelming. “I…I didn’t mean to,” I whispered, the words barely audible.

He placed his hands on my arms, fingers gentle but firm as he gripped me. “Tell me, Joy.” The command was soft but unyielding.

I forced myself to search his dark eyes, bracing for disappointment or anger, for the look that would confirm I was as dangerous as everyone said. But all I saw was concern—deep, unwavering concern that made my chest ache with a different kind of pain.

“Steve wouldn’t tell me where you went.” I talked superfast. “He said it was too dangerous for me to follow you, that I needed to stay here and wait.” My hands twisted in the fabric of his shirt, seeking comfort.

“But when you left, I wanted to follow you and protect you with my shadows in case Angelo found you.”

He waited patiently, his thumbs stroking small circles on my arms, encouraging me to continue without words.

“I got angry and lost control of my shadows.” The confession tumbled out in a rush, and I felt like a little girl admitting to her father that she’d broken an expensive vase—except this vase was my brother’s body and the pieces couldn’t be glued back together.

“They just…erupted. Steve tried to calm me down, and I threw him into the wall without even meaning to.”

He pulled me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me like a protective shield as he hugged me tightly.

I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my cheek, a comforting counterpoint to my own erratic pulse.

His lips found the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss there that sent warmth cascading through my body despite the cold fear still clinging to my bones.

“We’ll get through this,” he murmured against my skin, his breath tickling the fine hairs at my nape. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

But something in his voice—a subtle tension, a carefully controlled edge—made my chest feel too tight for my lungs. I pulled back just enough to search his face, noting the tight lines around his eyes, the way his jaw was clenched despite his reassuring words.

“You found out something, didn’t you?” My voice cracked with fear.

His hands moved to frame my face, thumbs stroking across my cheekbones as he slowly untangled himself from our embrace. The loss of his warmth left me feeling exposed, vulnerable in the afternoon light streaming through the dusty windows.

“Yes.” The single word hung heavy between us.

He took a measured breath, and I could see him choosing his words carefully, like walking through a minefield.

“Keir said you need to learn how to manage your emotions, specifically your anger. He has someone on assignment—someone who has the same powers as you do.” His voice grew softer, more gentle, as if he knew how much this would hurt.

“When he returns, Keir will send him to teach you how to control the shadows. But in the meantime, you have to learn how to manage your anger so you don’t hurt anyone else. ”

I winced as if he’d physically struck me. Don’t hurt anyone else. Like I’d already failed, already proven myself dangerous to the people I loved most. The shame burned in my throat like acid.

“Did he say anything about Angelo?” I managed to ask, though part of me didn’t want to know the answer.

“Angelo is still hunting us.” He took a deep shuddering breath that told me there was worse news coming. “There’s something else. Something you need to know about Serenity.”

Fear fluttered in my chest like a trapped moth, making it hard to breathe. My hands reached for him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “What? She’s okay, isn’t she?” I could see the answer written in the tight lines of his face.

“No, she’s not, Joy.” His words fell like stones into still water, each one sending ripples of horror through me. “She’s in a coma. Angelo will want blood for this. If the worst happens, there will be nowhere we can go that he won’t find us.”

The world tilted sideways. I clasped both hands over my mouth, but it couldn’t stop the sob that tore from my throat. My legs gave out completely, and Enzo had to catch me as I collapsed against him, shaking uncontrollably.

Serenity. My sister. The one person who’d never looked at me with fear, who’d accepted my chaotic nature without question. My uncontrolled shadows had put her in a coma. And now I’d dragged Enzo and Steve into this nightmare too, painted targets on their backs because of what I was.