Page 41 of Cry of Blood and Joy (French Quarter Vampire Enforcer #2)

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Enzo

The silence in the room was suffocating, thick enough to choke on.

Every eye in the elegant sitting room focused on me with laser intensity—some with concern, others with barely concealed wariness.

Their unwavering attention felt like standing in a firing squad’s crosshairs, but I didn’t care.

My anger had gotten the best of me again, rage boiling through my veins like molten silver.

This wasn’t me—or rather it wasn’t who I used to be.

But I would do anything to find Joy, even if it meant becoming the monster everyone expected me to be.

Intimidation wasn’t beneath me; it was a tool I’d wielded countless times when I needed information or had to protect the Santi family.

The familiar coldness settled over me like a well-worn coat.

Angelo and Keir stood motionless, watching the confrontation unfold with the patient stillness of apex predators. The tension radiating from Angelo was palpable—I could smell the deadly scent of his barely controlled fury with the expensive cologne and leather that always surrounded him.

Alice met my fierce gaze with surprising steadiness, though I could see her pulse hammering frantically at her throat. “Release me—please.”

I loosened my crushing grip on her arm, feeling the indentations my fingers had left in her soft flesh. Blood rushed back into the compressed tissue with a sensation she’d probably feel for hours. I tilted my head toward Rocco with deliberate menace. “Then heal him.”

Alice broke free from my grasp, rubbing her arm where dark bruises were already beginning to bloom like ink stains beneath her pale skin.

She glanced around the room with wide, frightened eyes, taking in the faces of some of the most dangerous supernatural beings in New Orleans. She reeked of nervousness and fear.

She swallowed hard, her throat working visibly as the implications of her situation sank in.

Disappointing the Santi family was never a good idea—everyone in the supernatural community knew that.

And Angelo’s special interrogation room was right down the hall, with its soundproof walls and collection of tools that had made ancient vampires weep.

With trembling hands, Alice knelt gracefully in front of Rocco, her knees settling on the Persian rug with barely a whisper of sound. The candlelight cast her shadow long and waveringly across the unconscious man’s still form.

If this didn’t work, I was totally fucked and so was Joy.

“Be careful.” Rose sat on the leather couch opposite Rocco. Some of the color was returning to her pale face.

The Unseelie contingent remained unusually quiet, their otherworldly presence adding another layer of tension to the already charged atmosphere.

Nyx and Lorcan flanked Keir like twin statues carved from winter itself, their pale eyes tracking every movement in the room with predatory focus.

The Unseelie king had a talent for melting into the background of any room, becoming part of the furniture while he gathered intelligence.

I knew he was cataloging everyone’s reactions, searching for strengths and weaknesses he could exploit later.

More than once, Angelo and I had to avoid falling into one of his traps.

The air itself seemed to hold its breath as Alice raised her hands toward Rocco’s motionless form, and I found myself holding my breath, every muscle locked with tension.

“ Velithra .” Alice’s voice rang out with surprising power, stronger and more resonant than Rose’s had been.

The ancient word seemed to reverberate through the very bones of the house, making the crystal chandelier above us tremble.

Ethereal lights flickered around us like fireflies made of starlight, dancing through the air in spiraling patterns that cast shifting shadows across the expensive wallpaper.

For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened.

Rocco remained as still as death, his glassy eyes staring at nothing, and despair nearly choked me.

My chest tightened with crushing disappointment as I watched Alice’s concentrated expression, waiting for her to be thrown backward like Rose had been.

The familiar taste of failure filled my mouth like sour lemons.

But then white billowing smoke started to grow and deepen around Rocco’s motionless form, pooling like fluffy cloud that seemed to have a life of its own. The shadows moved with fluid grace, swirling and dancing with an intelligence that made my heart lurch with desperate hope.

Rocco suddenly moaned, a low sound of agony that cut through the silence like a blade. I let out a shaky breath and began pacing, torn between hope and the fear that this might be all we’d get.

His spine arched off the leather sofa in a graceful bow, muscles straining against some invisible force as his head tilted back at an unnatural angle. Tendons stood out like cords in his neck, and his hands clenched into tight fists.

Thin wisps of red smoke began to seep from his mouth, nose, and ears like blood made vapor.

The smoke moved with malevolent purpose, writhing and coiling as it tried to escape his body.

But the white smoke was faster, hungrier.

They surged forward, then wrapped around the crimson mist with predatory satisfaction.

The red smoke began to scream—an inhuman sound that made me flinch.

It was the sound of something ancient and evil being torn apart, a shriek that seemed to bypass the ears and go straight to the soul.

The white smoke consumed the screaming mist piece by piece, devouring it until nothing remained but the sweet silence of victory.

Rocco’s body went limp, collapsing back onto the sofa as the last of the red smoke disappeared into the protective embrace of the white smoke.

Alice’s arms collapsed to her sides like severed puppet strings, her entire body swaying dangerously as if the effort had drained every ounce of strength from her bones.

Her face had gone pale as parchment, beads of perspiration dotting her forehead despite the cool evening air, and her green eyes rolled back slightly as consciousness threatened to slip away.

I lunged forward with vampire speed, catching her before she could crash to the hardwood floor.

Her body was surprisingly light in my arms, and fine tremors ran through her muscles—the aftershock of channeling that much magical power.

“Did you do it?” I asked urgently, supporting her weight as she struggled to remain upright.

“I... I think so.” Slick sweat had broken out across her pale forehead, making her skin gleam in the chandelier’s warm light. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, like someone who’d just run a marathon.

“Just rest here.” I carefully guided her to the couch and sat her down next to Rose, who immediately reached over to steady her friend with gentle hands. Alice’s head lolled back against the leather cushions, and dark circles formed under her eyes from the magical exertion.

Keir moved with his characteristic fluid grace, placing one pale hand over Rocco’s forehead. His touch was gentle but purposeful as he assessed the man’s condition. “She broke the spell,” he confirmed after a moment.

“Thank fuck.” The words exploded out of me as I dropped to one knee beside Alice.

“You did it. You actually did it.” I gripped her shoulder gently.

“I won’t forget this. If you ever need anything—and I mean anything—call me.

” I meant every word. In my world, debts were sacred, and this woman had just given me hope when I’d had none.

Keir lowered his hand and leaned back. “Rocco, can you hear me?”

Rocco shook his head slowly, as if trying to clear cobwebs from his thoughts.

His eyes fluttered open, pupils dilated and unfocused as consciousness gradually returned.

He struggled to sit up, his movements clumsy and disoriented, blinking rapidly as he looked around the elegant sitting room with obvious confusion.

“Where am I?” His voice was hoarse and cracked, like someone waking from a deep sleep. His dark eyes darted from face to face with growing bewilderment.

I positioned myself where he could see me clearly, keeping my voice calm and steady despite the urgency clawing at my chest. “Crescent Manor. Someone put a powerful spell on you when you were at the police station.” I paused, watching his expression carefully. “Do you remember anything?”

“They did?” Rocco’s eyebrows drew together in concentration as he rubbed the sweat off his brow. “I remember... talking to Flanagan about...” His voice trailed off, confusion clouding his features.

Flanagan had been a thorn in my side. There was something off about him. I just couldn’t figure out what it was…yet.

“What do you remember?” Keir asked quietly. Where Angelo would have demanded answers, Keir simply waited, his stillness somehow more compelling than any threat.

Rocco frowned and shook his head as if trying to shake free fuzzy memories.

“It’s confusing.” He frowned deeply, the expression carving lines across his forehead as fragments of memory swirled just out of reach.

“He said something... then I can’t remember what happened.

Someone else joined us…a captain…I think. ”

This was nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing that would help me find Joy. Rage made my entire frame rigid as I fought the urge to grab Rocco and shake the information out of him. The clock was ticking, and Joy was still trapped with Ari.

“Can you remember his name?” Keir held Rocco’s confused gaze with the patience of a saint—patience I didn’t possess. My jaw clenched so hard my teeth might crack, but Keir remained perfectly composed, as if we had all the time in the world.

Rocco rubbed his forehead more vigorously, his fingers pressing against his skull as if the pressure might unlock the missing pieces. He paused, squeezing his eyes shut in concentration. “Boudreaux. I think it was Captain Boudreaux.”

I stepped closer with sudden interest. “Captain Boudreaux?”

“Neither have I,” Angelo said quietly.

Rocco shook his head again, more vigorously this time, as if trying to dislodge stubborn memories.

When he looked up at me, his dazed stare carried something that made my blood run cold.

“Flanagan had just told me a girl had been burned to death. Clear to the bone. There was no flesh. They identified her through dental records.” He fixed his unfocused gaze directly on me as the pieces clicked together in his recovering mind. “They think you killed her.”

My breath caught in my throat, and the familiar taste of copper flooded my mouth as my fangs extended involuntarily. “Me? Why me?” The question came out as a growl, barely controlled rage bleeding through every syllable. “I don’t burn people.”

“Flanagan was insistent about it,” Rocco continued. His fingers drummed nervously against his knee as more fragments of memory began to surface. “He kept saying they had evidence, that it was solid.”