Page 2 of Cry of Blood and Joy (French Quarter Vampire Enforcer #2)
Chapter One
Joy
My vision blurred as neon lights from the bars streaked past in violent slashes of red and blue.
Colors whipped around me like angry spirits as Enzo carried me over his shoulder, each pounding step bouncing my body against his back.
The humid night air rushed past my face, thick with the scent of spilled beer, cigarettes, and something darker—blood.
I gasped for breath, my ribs aching from where his shoulder dug into my stomach.
The sounds of Bourbon Street faded behind us—drunken laughter, jazz music spilling from doorways, the clatter of heels on cobblestones. My heart slammed against my ribs as we plunged deeper into the shadows.
He finally set me down in a narrow alley where the streetlights couldn’t reach. The brick walls pressed close on either side, slick with moisture and years of grime. My legs trembled as I found my footing on the uneven pavement. Enzo grasped my arm, his fingers warm and steady against my cold skin.
He gazed at me, his dark eyes searching my face in the dim light filtering from the street. Concern etched lines around his eyes. “Are you all right?”
I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering despite the New Orleans heat. “I’m fine. I’m…I’m so sorry, Enzo.”
He drew me into his arms without hesitation, his embrace fierce and protective.
I breathed in his familiar scent—leather and something uniquely him that made my racing heart slow just a fraction.
He stroked my hair as I pressed my face against his chest. “Don’t worry about it,” he murmured against the top of my head.
“Finding out Angelo had to kill your father was a shock. I should have told you earlier.”
I wanted to be angry, but I couldn’t. Everything happened so fast—the rescue from Maximo Barone, him claiming me. When would he have told me?
I looked at him. Anguish and guilt swirled in his eyes. He’d risk so much for me, even facing down Angelo. I kissed him softly. “It’s not your fault, Enzo.”
My brother, Steve, peered around the corner, his face pale in the moonlight. Sweat glistened on his forehead despite the late hour. “No one’s following us,” he said in a hushed whisper barely louder than the distant hum of the city.
Enzo stepped in front of me, blocking my view. “Not yet. But Angelo will send out an army to hunt us down.”
Dread brought tears to my eyes. Angelo wants to kill us. Torture us. Rip us to pieces.
And it was all my fault.
I lost control of my shadow powers, and Serenity got hurt.
Her scream still echoed in my ears—that terrible sound as my shadows slammed her into the wall.
The blood that ran down her nose. Her cheek swelling before my eyes.
What if she had even more injuries? That’s something Angelo Santi would never forgive. I put everyone I love at risk.
How could we escape from the vampire mafia king? I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to Enzo or Steve because of me.
Steve dragged his fingers through his red hair, a nervous habit he’d had ever since childhood. “What do we do now? We can’t stay here all night.”
Enzo’s face turned grim, the shadows in the alley deepening the harsh lines around his mouth.
He clenched his jaw, the muscle ticking with tension.
“We have to go where Angelo and Dimitri can’t find us.
Serenity wasn’t the only one who got hurt.
Angelo’s sister Gianna did too. They’ll both be out for blood.
We have to go where they wouldn’t suspect us to for the time being. ”
The sultry evening air pressed against us, thick and suffocating.
Sweat beaded on my forehead despite the chill of fear running down my spine.
I didn’t mean to hurt either of them. Serenity was my best friend, more like a sister to me.
A lump formed in the back of my throat. I wanted to apologize, but Angelo had exploded with rage.
He was terrifying. Ruthless. Unforgiving.
The only reason he didn’t murder us on the spot was because he’d rushed over to Serenity first.
“It has to be some place close,” Steve said. He leaned heavily against the brick wall, his skin almost luminous in the dim light filtering up from the street. Dark circles shadowed his eyes. “Some place where I won’t burn up like a crispy critter when the sun comes up.”
The reminder of dawn approaching sent a fresh wave of panic through me. I placed my trembling hand on my brother’s arm. His muscles bunched and corded beneath his skin. “I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t mean for you to get into this mess too.”
“You’re my little sister.” His voice was fiery with protective love, the same tone he’d used when defending me from playground bullies years ago. “I’ll always protect you.”
The distant sound of sirens wailed somewhere in the French Quarter, making us all freeze.
The sirens reminded me of Detective Chester Flanagan, who still believed the Santi family had something to do with the deaths of Simon Cartier and his men.
There was something odd about the detective.
My blood thumped between my temples as we listened, waiting to see if the sound would grow closer.
“I have an idea where Angelo wouldn’t think to look for us.
” Enzo looked between my brother and me, his expression troubled.
“Serenity’s old house. Angelo had me keep tabs on it to ensure no evidence that we’d ever been there was found.
It hasn’t been rented yet. We could stay there for a couple days until we figure out what to do next. ”
The thought of staying there sickened me.
Serenity had suffered so much in that house.
I was sure the ghost of her stepfather, Freddie Evans, still walked those halls.
He’d always made me want to take a shower just from being in the same room with him.
It was the way he’d look at me—like he was slowly undressing me with his eyes—then lick his lips afterward.
Steve shook his head. “That nightmare place?”
Enzo narrowed his eyes. “You got a better idea?”
Steve was quiet for a long moment then bowed his head. “No.”
Enzo stretched out his hand. “Come on. We have to go now before Angelo gets organized and sends out more men.”
“I should use my shadows to cover us.” My hands trembled as I flexed my fingers, feeling the familiar dark energy stirring beneath my skin like restless serpents.
He gave me a sympathetic look, his thumb brushing across my knuckles in a gentle caress. “We can’t risk it. If something should go wrong, it would draw Angelo to us.”
I winced as if he’d slapped me across the face, my chest tightening. Now I was more of a liability than a help, a weapon that couldn’t be trusted not to hurt the people I loved most.
I slipped my hand into his, my palm damp with nervous sweat. His skin was warm and reassuring, but I couldn’t stop dreading where we were going and, even more, what would happen if Angelo found us there. Cold fingers of panic crept up my neck, and I shivered.
“Stay close,” Enzo murmured, his breath warm against my ear. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something darker, more dangerous—the metallic edge that came with his vampire nature.
He lifted me into his arms effortlessly, one hand supporting my back while the other cradled my thighs. The world tilted, and I gripped his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle beneath his shirt. Then he was moving with inhuman speed, and everything became a blur of motion and wind.
The muggy air whipped past my face, carrying the scents of the French Quarter—cigarette smoke, fried food, and the underlying mustiness of the old city. Streetlights streaked by like fallen stars, and I squeezed my eyes shut against the dizzying rush of speed.
Steve’s footsteps pounded behind us, his breathing labored as he struggled to keep pace with Enzo’s supernatural velocity. I could hear his heart racing, smell the anxiety sweat on his skin even over the rushing wind.
I laid my head against Enzo’s chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath my cheek—slower than a human’s, but reassuring in its consistency. His arms tightened around me protectively, and despite everything, I was filled with safety from his embrace.
But it wouldn’t last.
Soon we’d be at that house, surrounded by ghosts and memories of suffering, hiding from the dawn while Angelo hunted us through the streets of New Orleans.
I wasn’t sure there was anywhere in this town that we’d be safe. But then, Angelo’s connections stretched out from beyond NOLA. Was there anywhere we could go that he wouldn’t find us?