Page 40 of Cry of Blood and Joy (French Quarter Vampire Enforcer #2)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Joy

A door creaked ominously from the other side of the cathedral, the sound haunting through the hollow sanctuary like breaking bones.

The ancient hinges groaned in protest, cutting through the oppressive silence that had settled over us like a burial shroud.

Terror paralyzed me as I waited for Marsha to emerge from the shadows, probably carrying some new instrument of torture to make us pay for her humiliation.

“Joy,” Zoe whispered, tears in her eyes. “I’m scared.” “I know. Me too,” I admitted quietly. “But we’re going to survive this. I promise.”

But instead of Marsha’s vengeful silhouette, one of the burly guards shuffled toward us, his heavy boots scraping against the cracked stone floor.

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across his scarred face as he approached, carrying what looked like.

.. Po’boy sandwiches wrapped in brown paper.

I blinked hard, wondering if exhaustion and fear were making me hallucinate. That was actually better than I’d thought it would be. I’d been expecting moldy bread crawling with insects, or worse—something that would poison us slowly while Ari watched us suffer.

But where was Marsha, and more importantly, what had she done to the sandwiches? Knowing Marsha’s twisted creativity, she’d probably done something to the food. Maybe not enough to kill us outright—Ari needed me functional for his plan—but certainly enough to make us violently ill.

The guard’s movements were mechanical, dispassionate, as he first reached above my head to unlock the chains holding my arms overhead.

The relief of lowering my aching arms was immediate, blood rushing back into my shoulders as I brought them down.

He moved to Zoe next, releasing her arms with the same efficient detachment before moving toward me with surprising gentleness, his thick fingers working at the leather strap that had been cutting into my mouth for what felt like hours.

The moment the gag came free, I coughed violently, my throat raw and burning.

Saliva mixed with traces of blood spilled from my lips as I spat to the side, trying to clear the bitter taste of old leather and my own fear.

I moved my jaw back and forth experimentally, wincing as cramped muscles protested the movement. My face felt stiff and foreign, like I’d forgotten how to make normal expressions. The relief of being able to breathe freely through my mouth was overwhelming, even though I knew it was only temporary.

He moved to Zoe next, his movements efficient but not cruel as he loosened her leather binding. The moment her gag came free, she gasped and panted like someone surfacing from deep water, her chest heaving as she sucked in desperate lungfuls of the musty cathedral air.

“What is that?” Zoe asked breathlessly as she stared down at the sandwich with revulsion. The smell wafting from the brown paper was familiar yet wrong somehow—like seafood but with something wild and swampy underneath that made my nose wrinkle.

“Nutria,” the guard said with a shrug. “Big swamp rats. If you don’t eat it, you’re gonna be sorry. And don’t even think about trying to escape.”

The mention of nutria meat made my already queasy stomach lurch. The thought of eating something that had been crawling through bayou mud, combined with whatever vindictive additions Marsha might have included, was almost enough to make me gag again.

But the gnawing emptiness in my belly reminded me I hadn’t eaten in hours, and my body was running on nothing but adrenaline and terror. If I was going to have any chance of surviving whatever Ari had planned, I needed to keep my strength up.

The guard stepped back, crossing his thick arms as he watched us with the patient indifference of someone used to guarding prisoners. His message was clear: eat, or face consequences that would make nutria meat seem like a feast.

I rubbed my freed arms frantically, trying to restore the burning circulation to my numb fingers, but the cursed iron bracelets were still intact around my wrists.

They pulsed with malevolent heat, binding my shadows and searing my flesh like red-hot manacles forged in hell itself.

The putrid smell of my own burned skin joined the musty cathedral air, a constant reminder of my helplessness.

Zoe stared at the sandwich as if it were a coiled cottonmouth ready to strike, her green eyes wide with revulsion and growing panic.

Her hands trembled violently as she pressed them against the cold stone floor.

“I’m not going to eat a rat,” she whispered, her voice cracking with barely contained hysteria.

“Then I’m going to have to report your insubordination to Marsha.” The guard uncrossed his thick arms with deliberate slowness, then rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck in the oppressive silence.

He gave us a mischievous grin that revealed yellowed, crooked teeth, his eyes glittering with sadistic anticipation like he was hoping we’d refuse so he could watch Marsha tear us apart piece by piece.

My heartbeat spiked wildly as images of Marsha’s vindictive creativity flashed through my mind. The crashes and screams still echoing from the other room painted a vivid picture of what happened to those who crossed her.

“No, we’ll eat it. I promise.” I grabbed the Po’boy with shaking hands, the greasy brown paper crinkling under my desperate grip.

The smell hit me immediately—rank, swampy, like rotting vegetation mixed with something that had died in stagnant water.

Revulsion hit me violently, bile rising in my throat, but I forced it down. “Just... just give us a second.”

“Joy, are you serious?” Tears were already forming in Zoe’s eyes, her chest rising and falling in rapid, panicked breaths.

“Think about what she’ll do to us if we don’t,” I hissed urgently, leaning as close to her as my restraints would allow. The iron bracelets dug deeper into my raw flesh with the movement, shooting burning pain up my arms. “We have to survive this. We have to.”

I forced myself to take a bite, the sandwich collapsing slightly under the pressure of my teeth.

The taste exploded across my tongue—greasy, gamey meat that tasted like mud and decay with what might have been spoiled mayonnaise.

The texture was rubbery and stringy, and I had to fight every instinct not to immediately spit it out.

I chewed mechanically, swallowing hard as my stomach rebelled against the foul mixture.

“That’s a good girl,” the guard purred with sick satisfaction, watching my struggle with obvious enjoyment. “I’ll tell Marsha one of you is following the rules. Too bad about the other one...”

“No, I’ll eat it! I’ll eat it!” Pure panic exploded in Zoe’s eyes as she lunged for her sandwich, her movements frantic and uncoordinated.

She grabbed it with both hands and took an enormous bite, immediately gagging as the vile taste hit her.

Her face contorted with disgust and she nearly choked, coughing and sputtering as tears streamed down her cheeks in silver tracks.

The guard chuckled darkly, a sound like gravel grinding together, clearly delighted by our misery. The stench of the nutria meat seemed to grow stronger with each bite, filling the cathedral with the smell of our degradation.

I reached over as far as my chains would allow and touched Zoe’s trembling hand. “We’re going to get through this,” I whispered, though my own hands shook with doubt and revulsion.

“Damn, I wanted to see Marsha’s punishment,” he said.

Suddenly, massive black wings erupted from his back with a wet, tearing sound as they burst through his shirt.

The leathery appendages stretched wide, casting ominous shadows across the flickering candlelit walls.

The wings flicked with an oily, unnatural sheen that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it.

I shuddered violently as he walked away, his boots echoing hollowly against the stone floor. The sight of those wings confirmed what I’d feared—we weren’t just dealing with human monsters. Whatever Ari had assembled here was a collection of supernatural nightmares.

“This is disgusting,” I muttered through gritted teeth, forcing myself to take another bite of the vile sandwich.

The nutria meat felt like chewing leather soaked in swamp water, and the taste made my gag reflex kick in with each swallow.

I breathed through my nose, trying to minimize the flavor, but that only made the rank smell worse.

“But we have to eat it,” I whispered as I took another bite that made my body rebel violently, vomit rising in my throat, but I forced it down.

Zoe attempted another bite, her face contorting with revulsion as she chewed.

But her body had reached its limit. She suddenly doubled over, retching fiercely as she vomited the partially masticated food onto the cracked stone floor.

The sound echoed wetly through the cathedral, mixing with the acidic smell of bile and partially digested nutria.

One of the guards stationed near the massive double doors broke into cruel laughter, the sound vile and mocking as it bounced off the vaulted ceiling. “Looks like somebody’s got a delicate stomach!” he called out.

“Are you okay?” My heart broke for her as I watched her shoulders shake with dry heaves.

I glanced nervously into the shadows. What if Marsha was watching? She would consider this insubordination. Insubordination deserved punishment.

She shook her head miserably, wiping her mouth with the back of her quivering hand.

Tears continued to stream down her pale cheeks, and her green eyes were bloodshot from the strain of vomiting “No. Not at all.” She glanced nervously at the guards, who had returned to their casual conversation by the doors. “Can you use your shadows?”

I looked away, not able to face her. My chest tightened with guilt.

I held up my wrists, displaying the silver bracelets that fused with my flesh, still glowing faintly with malevolent red light.

The metal pulsed with each heartbeat, sending ribbons of burning pain up my arms. “No, I’m bound.

Ari wants to use me for some trap to capture a king, I guess.

” I paused, trying to remember the exact name he’d used during his phone call. “His name is?—”

“Gunnar. Gunnar Khan,” Zoe finished quietly. Her green eyes darted toward the guards, then back to me with obvious fear.

I studied her pale, drawn face with growing concern. “You’ve heard of him?” The way she’d said his name—with certainty rather than confusion—froze my blood in place.

She leaned closer, dropping her voice. “When I was first captured, I pretended to pass out and heard the guards talking.” Her words came out in short, nervous bursts as she kept glancing toward the doors.

“I tried to listen to what they were saying to see if I could learn something useful... something that might help me escape.”

My pulse quickened with desperate hope—any information could be valuable. “So why does he want this Gunnar?” I whispered back, my breath barely stirring the air between us.

Zoe’s face grew even more troubled, and she swallowed hard before answering. “He wants to capture Gunnar and his queen, but I didn’t get why. I didn’t hear what they were saying for a while but then they mentioned something about opening the Elder Dimension. Do you know what that means?”

“No.” I leaned back against the wall, the greasy food sitting heavy in my stomach. I closed my eyes, thinking of Enzo’s handsome face. I wanted him to wrap his arms around me, tell me everything would be all right. But he wasn’t here. “But whatever it meant, it’s evil.”