Page 37 of Cry of Blood and Joy (French Quarter Vampire Enforcer #2)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Enzo

I rose to my feet with deliberate control, every movement calculated and precise.

My muscles bunched with restrained tension as I kept my focus laser-locked on Angelo, refusing to let my gaze drift to Steve’s deteriorating form on the floor.

The sight of him dying by degrees would only fuel the rage I was barely keeping leashed, and I couldn’t afford to lose control again.

I needed Angelo to allow Serenity to heal Rocco and Steve.

This could be the difference between life and death for Joy—literally the thin line between finding her alive or discovering her corpse in some godforsaken place.

That wasn’t something I could risk, not with Joy trapped somewhere with god knew who while I wasted time here.

Right now, I had no leads on where Joy was. Nothing. The trail had gone completely cold, and I was desperate—absolutely fucking desperate—to know where to begin tearing New Orleans apart building by building until I found her.

Angelo met my steady gaze, his jaw set in that stubborn line I knew all too well.

His fingers wrapped around Serenity’s delicate arm with protective possessiveness, pulling her away from me and toward his chest. “You can’t heal them.

” He had the authority of someone who expected to be obeyed without question.

“You’re going to exhaust yourself completely. ”

Serenity twisted her arm in his grip, not violently but with firm insistence. Her blue eyes flashed with determination that reminded me exactly why she’d survived everything life had thrown at her. “I’m a Nephilim, Angelo. This is literally what I was born to do.”

But Angelo’s grip didn’t loosen. If anything, his protective instincts seemed to intensify as he focused entirely on her face, searching for signs of fatigue or strain. “You’ve been getting sick every morning for weeks now. This constant healing has to be putting an enormous toll on your body.”

Serenity rolled her eyes with the exasperated expression of someone who’d had this argument before.

“I feel perfectly fine. You’re the one who’s having problems with this, not me.

” Her tone had a hint of fond irritation, like she was dealing with an overprotective parent rather than a centuries-old vampire.

In the background, Steve’s labored breathing grew shallower as the scent of death grew stronger—that sweet, cloying odor that clung to those who were slipping away. Time was running out, and we were standing here debating while the one person who might know where Joy was could die at any moment.

My hands clenched into fists at my sides. If Steve died, I would have no more leads on Joy’s whereabouts.

Keir raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, his magical bluish-green eyes glittering with that calculating intelligence that made him such a formidable political player.

“Angelo, if you want to protect Serenity from the dark forces I fear are brewing in New Orleans, we need information.” He gestured toward Steve and Rocco.

“The only way we can get that information is for Serenity to heal them.”

His logic was flawless—cold, pragmatic, and absolutely undeniable. It penetrated Angelo’s reluctance like a blade sliding between ribs. Angelo’s jaw worked silently for a moment, the internal war between his protective instincts and his strategic mind playing out across his angular features.

Finally, with visible reluctance, he released Serenity’s arm. His fingers trailed along her skin as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go completely.

The tension drained from my muscles. Good. If he’d kept holding her back, I would have had to fight him again—and Steve didn’t have time for that.

Serenity immediately moved with purpose, kneeling gracefully beside Steve, who had slumped against the base of the leather chair where he’d slipped through Lorcan’s supporting grip like water.

His head lolled to one side at an unnatural angle, and his long red hair had fallen forward to shield his face like a copper curtain.

The strands were damp with sweat and stuck to his pale skin in dark streaks.

She leaned in closer, her delicate nose wrinkling as she lifted the torn edges of his blood-soaked shirt.

Three deep gashes carved across his chest like claw marks, the edges black and festering with something that definitely wasn’t natural.

“This smells really bad.” She glanced up at Keir.

The odor was vile and chemical, like antiseptic that had gone rancid. “Do you know what this is?”

Keir met her worried gaze with grim acknowledgment, his usual mask of cool composure cracking slightly. “Some kind of deadly poison, unfortunately powerful enough to kill even a newly made vampire.”

I paced back and forth across the floor, trying to contain the nervous energy about to explode inside me. “He’s the only one who knows where Joy is being held. You have to try Serenity, or Joy dies.”

Serenity placed her palms gently on Steve’s thigh, and the moment her skin made contact, she jerked back as if she’d been burned. Her face contorted with pain. Steve’s body went rigid before erupting into violent convulsions.

“Serenity, no!” Angelo lunged toward her and grabbed her arm.

“I can do this, Angelo,” she said as she yanked her arm free. “We need to find Joy.”

Steve’s limbs thrashed wildly, muscles seizing and releasing in rapid succession as foam began to appear at the corners of his mouth.

“Fuck, he’s dying!” I stopped pacing and dragged my fingers through my hair. “Do something! He’s the only one who knows where she is!” Desperation clawed at my throat as I watched my last hope slipping away. “Serenity, please—if he dies, Joy dies with him.”

“I know, I know, Enzo. I won’t let him die.” Serenity moved away, wiping her sweat on her arm and pointing. “He needs to lie down on the floor while I heal him. I need someone to hold down his arms and someone to restrain his legs, or he’s going to hurt himself—and me.”

Using vampire speed, I lowered Steve to the floor.

I positioned myself at Steve’s legs, wrapping my arms around his ankles and pressing my full weight down.

Even semiconscious and poisoned, he was incredibly strong—his muscles bunched and strained against my hold with enough force I had to draw on every ounce of my own vampire strength to keep him pinned.

His legs kicked and twisted like a wild animal caught in a trap, and the raw power still flowed in his limbs even through the poison’s effects.

Lorcan’s massive hands clamped down on Steve’s right arm, his knuckles white with the effort of restraining the convulsing vampire. Angelo took the left arm, his gaze focused on Serenity as Steve’s supernatural strength fought against their combined grip.

His sickness polluted the air with that wrong, chemical smell and the copper tang of blood. But underneath it all was something else—something that made my enhanced senses recoil.

Serenity took a deep breath and placed her hands on Steve’s thigh again, her palms glowing with that familiar white light.

The moment her healing energy made contact, his body erupted into chaos.

His torso rose up and slammed back down against the hardwood floor with bone-jarring force.

His head whipped side to side so violently I was afraid he might snap his own neck, red hair flying in wild arcs around his face.

The putrid smell that had been hovering around him suddenly got thicker, more repulsive, as if whatever poison was killing him was being forced to the surface by Serenity’s divine power. The stench was overwhelming—like a combination of sulfur and rotting meat—making my throat close up in protest.

Steve’s spine curved in an impossible arch, his back bowing off the floor until only his shoulders touched.

I had to hold him tighter as the convulsions intensified.

Then his mouth fell open. Thick black ooze, like crude oil mixed with tar, began pouring out, but I forced myself to maintain my grip even as the viscous substance pooled dangerously close to my hands.

“Turn him to his side!” Serenity ordered. “Before he chokes to death!”

I released Steve’s ankles, allowing Angelo to roll Steve toward Lorcan, who barely managed to scramble backward before another torrent of vile black vomit erupted from Steve’s mouth.

This wave was worse than the first—chunks of something solid mixed with the liquid darkness, splattering across the hardwood floor in chaotic designs that seemed to writhe and shift, the black substance rippling and pulsing as if it had a life of its own.

Tendrils of the ooze reached out like tiny fingers.

Shapes moved within the dark mass—things that shouldn’t exist in any natural substance.

Keir stepped back from the spreading puddle, his usually composed expression twisting with disgust as he turned up his aristocratic nose.

“Dead demon blood,” he said with grim certainty of someone who’d seen this horror before.

“Someone must have scratched him with either fingernails or something sharp coated with dead demon blood. It’s designed to kill people or supernaturals from the inside out—slowly and agonizingly. ”

My hands shook as I dragged my fingers through my hair. If someone had scratched Steve with this poison...what about Joy? Was she somewhere suffering the same horrific death?

The black substance continued to writhe on the floor, making soft, wet sounds, like whispers or tiny screams trapped within the ooze.

Serenity pulled her hands back and wiped the hair off her sleek face. “I think he’s going to be okay.”

I held my breath, waiting to see if she was right, praying that she was.

Steve’s eyes fluttered open like a hummingbird’s wings fighting against a hurricane, the blue irises unfocused and dilated with pain.

Thank fuck. Relief crashed through me so hard I nearly staggered. He was alive, conscious; he could tell me where Joy was.

His chest heaved as he panted desperately, each breath a monumental effort that seemed to cost him everything he had left. Saliva mixed with traces of black ooze still clung to his lips as he struggled to force words past his damaged throat.

“Joy.” Her name came out cracked and broken, but it was like a lightning bolt straight to my chest.

My grip on his ankles tightened, my fingers digging into his flesh, making him wince. Every muscle in my body went rigid with desperate anticipation. “What about her?”

Steve’s head lolled slightly toward me, his unfocused gaze trying to find my face through the haze of pain and lingering pain.

“Ari…” He paused, sucking in another shuddering breath.

“Did this to me. Scratched me. He can…he can change. He was Dimitri… but his face melted away. I’ve never fucking seen anything like that. ”

Son of a bitch. My hands shook with rage. Ari had been right under my nose and I couldn’t see it. How could I have been so blind?

“Where is she?” I leaned forward over his legs. Joy was out there with a monster who could become anyone, be anywhere, and I was wasting precious time.

Steve’s eyes rolled back slightly before focusing on me again with obvious effort. “In the bayou...” He sucked in another deep, ragged breath that sounded like air being dragged through broken glass. “Lumina Glade.” Another pause, another struggle for oxygen. “St. Louis Cathedral.”

The abandoned, cursed church. It had been stained with malevolence.

Foul creatures infested it. Battles between light and darkness had been fought on its grounds.

It was the perfect place to hide Joy, a perfect place for corruption to manifest. If Ari had taken her there, to that godforsaken place where screams would never be heard. ..

Terror and rage warred in my veins, fear clashing with fury.

I spun on my heel and headed toward the front door with determined strides, my hands already clenched into fists as adrenaline surged through my system.

The polished hardwood creaked under my boots, and my fangs extended, aching for blood—Ari’s blood.

The need to hunt screamed at me to move, to act, to tear through the bayou until I found her.

But Keir’s iron grip closed around my bicep like a steel trap, his supernatural strength easily halting my momentum. “If you’re planning on storming St. Louis Cathedral, you’re making a deadly mistake.”

The winter chill that always surrounded the Unseelie king seeped through my shirt sleeve where his fingers pressed against my arm. I yanked myself free with enough force that I heard the fabric tear, spinning to face him with barely controlled fury blazing in my eyes.

“Joy—” Her name tore from my throat, raw and desperate.

“You don’t know what’s hiding at Lumina Glade,” Keir interrupted, his magical eyes holding mine with unwavering intensity.

His platinum hair caught the lamplight as he stepped closer.

“If you rush in blind, you could be either killed or captured. Then you’d be no closer to finding out what Ari’s real plans are. ”

The logic hit me like cold water, but every fiber of my being rebelled against it. My jaw clenched so hard I could hear my teeth grinding together, and my hands shook with the effort of not putting my fist through the nearest wall.

Keir’s gaze shifted to where Rocco sat slumped in the leather chair, drool still sliding down his chin in silver trails. “I believe the only one who can tell us what really happened is Rocco. There’s a reason someone put him under such a powerful spell.”

Serenity rose gracefully from where she’d been kneeling beside Steve, wiping her glowing hands on a towel Elena had provided.

Her blue eyes were troubled as she studied Rocco’s vacant expression.

“I heal people,” she said softly. She looked directly at Keir, meeting his penetrating stare.

“I don’t have the power to break magical compulsions.

You need a witch to unravel something like this. ”

Not what I wanted to hear. It was as if Ari had planned this. He was holding a royal flush and I had nothing.

Keir’s lips curved into that enigmatic smile. “Then I believe we need a Nightshade witch.”

Angelo nodded thoughtfully, already moving toward his phone. “Valentin? We have a problem.”

My muscles locked up with pent-up fury. Ari was one step ahead of us, ready to cross the finish line.

Angelo’s expression darkened. “Wait. If Ari can shapeshift into anyone…” His eyes met mine with growing horror. “How do we know he’s not already here? How do we know one of us isn’t him?”