Page 21 of Cry of Blood and Joy (French Quarter Vampire Enforcer #2)
“You’re the one that’s keeping yourself like this.” The irony wasn’t lost on me—his own protective nature was what made my shadows so effective. I tilted my head toward Rocco, who had been watching our battle of wills with growing fascination. “Take him with you, and I’ll let you go.”
Rocco straightened, sensing his moment to contribute.
“I’m not helpless, Enzo.” His voice carried the authority of his royal bloodline, even dressed in flour-dusted work clothes.
“I could get into places where you can’t—such as the police department to find out what happened.
” The suggestion made perfect sense if only Enzo would listen to reason.
Enzo stopped struggling against my shadows completely, his body going still as logic warred with his protective instincts. He took a deep breath and his body relaxed. The anger in his eyes was replaced with calmness; Enzo understood Rocco’s offer actually made tactical sense.
He turned his gaze back to me. “You will not leave this room.”
Relief flooded through me like warm honey, and my shadows relaxed their grip slightly in response to my emotional shift. “I promise. I won’t.”
Guilt pressed down on my shoulders like sharp talons, crushing and inescapable.
I was the reason for this entire debacle, and the knowledge ate at me like acid in my veins.
I had to make it right—somehow, some way, I had to fix what my uncontrolled powers had broken.
Enzo was powerful, devastatingly so, but he was only one vampire against impossible odds.
He didn’t possess an army like Keir and Angelo, didn’t have the resources of an entire police department hunting him down.
“I have to make sure you won’t leave.” His statement made my stomach clench with sudden unease, something dark and determined that I’d never heard before.
Confusion clouded my thoughts as I tried to parse the meaning behind his words.
But then he grabbed my hand with fierce urgency and pulled me hard against his chest, the impact stealing my breath.
His lips crashed against mine with bruising intensity—it was the kiss of a desperate man, someone determined never to let me go, never to leave me behind.
I gradually melted into his embrace, my body reacting to his familiar touch while my mind wrestled to comprehend the situation.
His kiss was commanding, much like the man himself, assertive and unyielding.
I responded to his intensity with every ounce of passion within me, clinging to him with a fierce desperation.
I poured all my love and fear into the bond that connected us, as if trying to convey the depth of my emotions through our shared breath.
I wanted to wrap him in my shadows, and shield him from his enemies.
But then sharp, sudden pain pierced my neck like lightning, and understanding crashed over me with horrifying clarity.
His fangs sank deep into the tender flesh of my throat, and the sensation was tantalizing and agonizing all at once—pleasure and pain twisted together until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
“Enzo,” I whispered, but the word came out weak and breathless. The pleasure of his bite warred with the crushing realization of what he was doing—taking something beautiful between us and twisting it into a cage.
He drank and drank with the aching hunger of someone who knew this might be his last chance.
My life force flowed out of me with each pull of his mouth, my strength ebbing away like water through cupped hands.
My legs wobbled beneath me like a newborn foal, and my arms dropped to my sides as if the strings holding me up had been cut.
“Enzo,” I whispered. The betrayal was worse than the physical weakness, worse than the dizziness that made the room spin around me.
Part of me wanted to hate him for this, wanted to rage against the manipulation.
But even through my anger and hurt, I understood why he'd done it.
He was terrified of losing me, just as terrified as I was of losing him.
It didn't make what he'd done right, but it made it.
.. human. Or as human as a vampire enforcer could be.
He finally stopped and pulled back to look down at me, his dark eyes filled with something that might have been regret.
Blood—my blood—ran down his chin in crimson streams that caught the dim light.
“I’m sorry. I know this was a betrayal, but compulsion would have been worse.
That would have made you a puppet, stolen your mind. I would never do that to you.”
The apology felt like salt in an open wound.
My knees buckled completely, and he caught me before I could fall, lifting me into his arms with the same gentleness he’d always shown me.
But now it felt like mockery—gentle hands that had just drained my strength, tender touches that had betrayed my trust.
He carefully placed me on the bed, and even that simple movement made my head spin violently. The mattress felt like quicksand beneath me, threatening to swallow me whole. He covered me with a blanket that felt heavy as lead against my weakened limbs.
“I love you with all my heart. I can’t risk losing you again.
Please forgive me.” His words were raw and tormented and filled with so much anguish it made my chest ache even through my weakened state.
He kissed me on my parted lips one more time, and the salt of tears slipped into my mouth—mine or his, I couldn’t tell.
My heart shattered and soared at the same time.
Even through my growing weakness, even with the bitter understanding of what he’d done, those three words hit me like lightning.
He loved me. With all his heart. The confession I’d been longing to hear was finally here, but it came wrapped in manipulation and desperation that made it impossible to fully embrace.
I wanted to tell him I loved him too, wanted to reach up and cup his face and promise him forgiveness, but my limbs felt like lead and my voice had abandoned me.
All I could do was stare into his dark eyes, hoping he could read the complex storm of emotions there—love and hurt and understanding all tangled together like thorns around my heart.
“I... love...” I managed to whisper. I needed him to know, needed him to understand that even this—even using our bond against me—couldn’t destroy what we had.
His eyes closed briefly, as if my whispered response was both salvation and torment. When he opened them again, I saw his conflict reflected there—the enforcer who had to make hard choices warring with the man who would do anything to keep me safe.
“Let’s go,” he said to Rocco, his voice already shifting back to business with a speed that made my heart clench. The sudden change was jarring—one moment professing his love with burning intensity, the next moving past what he’d just done to me as if it were simply another tactical decision.
His jaw clenched and the lines around his eyes tightened as he pulled away from me. This wasn’t easy for him either—it was tearing him apart just as much as it was destroying me, and somehow that made it both better and infinitely worse.