Page 44 of Cry of Blood and Joy (French Quarter Vampire Enforcer #2)
Chapter Forty-Two
Joy
“Now,” Ari murmured over his shoulder.
Marsha’s fingers worked quickly at the silver bracelets around my wrists, the metal cool against my fevered skin as the restraints fell away with soft clicks. The moment my shadows were unbound, they stirred eagerly beneath my skin as if awakening from forced slumber.
“Use your shadows to bind Gunnar and Ebony.” She twisted her fingers in my hair and yanked my head back. Her breath was hot and rank against my cheek as she whispered, “Do it or Zoe dies. Right here, right now.”
She shoved me roughly through the doorway, and I stumbled into the harsh morning sunlight.
The brightness hit my eyes like needles after hours in the dim cathedral, forcing me to squint and blink rapidly as tears streamed down my cheeks.
The humid Louisiana air felt thick and oppressive against my skin, heavy with the scent of stagnant bayou water and decaying vegetation.
Ari’s hand closed around mine with possessive firmness, his fingers intertwining with mine in a mockery of intimacy that made my skin crawl. His stolen face wore Dimitri’s most charming smile as he stepped forward with practiced grace.
“Joy,” he said warmly. “I want you to meet some very dear friends of mine. This is Gunnar and Ebony Khan, King and Queen of the Dark Demons.”
My breath caught in my throat as I took in the approaching figures.
They were breathtakingly beautiful in the way only powerful beings could be.
The man—Gunnar—walked forward, his long white hair catching the morning light like spun silver.
Even the guards straightened unconsciously in his presence, and Marsha’s grip on my hair loosened slightly.
Beside him walked a woman, her hair flowing like liquid moonlight down her back.
She must be Ebony. When Gunnar shifted left, she moved right without looking, covering his blind spot.
When she hesitated at the threshold, scanning the room with suspicious eyes, he stopped mid-step, their movements perfectly synchronized.
Even with Ebony’s caution, Ari’s deception was working.
It was as if he had spun a spell around him.
For all I know, he had. They were approaching what they believed was a friend in need.
Everything in me screamed to warn them, to shout that this was a trap, that the man they thought was Dimitri was actually their enemy wearing his face like a grotesque mask.
But then I heard it—a small, choked gasp from behind me and all my defiance died.
The sound was barely audible, but I knew it was Zoe.
I could picture her with terrifying clarity: the cold steel pressed against her vulnerable throat, her green eyes wide with terror as she waited to see if I would sacrifice strangers to save her life.
My shadows writhed beneath my skin, eager to be unleashed, but my heart felt like it was being torn in two. Every fiber of my being rebelled against what I was about to do, but I couldn’t let Zoe die.
Not when I had the power to save her.
Ari pulled me close against his side, his arm snaking around my waist with possessive force that made my skin crawl.
I could feel the heat radiating from his stolen body, smell the lingering scent of Dimitri’s expensive cologne.
But there was something else—something that reeked of sulfur and decay.
“Do it now.” He ran his fingernails down my arm, the deadly points barely grazing my skin—one small scratch would mean agonizing death. “Bind them with your shadows.”
The command was so cold, so merciless, so final I thought I might be sick. But the image of Zoe with a blade at her throat burned in my mind, overriding every moral instinct I possessed.
Hating myself with every fiber of my being, I drew on the power that had been dormant since the iron bracelets were removed.
The familiar sensation ignited within my chest like cold fire, spreading through my veins with electric intensity.
Tingles pulsed through my entire body, racing down my arms and concentrating in my fingertips until they felt like they were buzzing with energy.
Around us, the shadows cast by the towering cypress trees and tangled bayou undergrowth responded to my call.
They moved with unnatural fluidity, growing longer and thinner, stretching across the marshy ground like dark fingers reaching for their targets.
The very air seemed to grow colder as my power awakened fully, and my breath formed small puffs of vapor in the suddenly frigid atmosphere.
Tears slipped down my cheeks in hot tracks. “Bind them,” I whispered. My cheeks heated with shame.
Gunnar’s head snapped up, his blue eyes suddenly alert. His entire posture shifted into a predatory crouch, centuries of survival instincts screaming warnings that came a heartbeat too late. “Ebony, get back?—“
But my shadows were already moving. They burst from my fingertips like living smoke, dark tendrils racing through the humid air with serpentine grace.
Simultaneously, more shadows erupted from the boggy ground beneath their feet, rising like black vines to wrap around their legs with constricting force.
The shadow-bonds moved with my will, coiling around Gunnar and Ebony’s limbs like living restraints. I watched in horror as the dark magic I’d been born with—power that should have been used to protect the innocent—instead became the instrument of their capture.
Gunnar’s eyes met mine across the distance, but he realized too late what was happening. Not anger, but something far worse—disappointment. He knew I was being coerced, knew this wasn’t my choice, but that knowledge couldn’t change the reality of the shadows tightening around them both.
The sound of their struggle was minimal—just the soft rustle of clothing and the wet squelch of feet shifting in the marshy ground. But their power was immense, and I had to pour more and more of my energy into the bindings to keep them contained.
My knees buckled slightly as the effort drained me, but Ari’s grip kept me upright, his fingers digging into my waist with bruising force.
“Well done,” he purred in Dimitri’s voice, the words making my stomach turn with revulsion.
Ari’s stolen features began to shift and melt like wax under intense heat, Dimitri’s handsome face dissolving and reforming with wet, organic sounds that made my stomach lurch.
Bones cracked and reshaped themselves as his jaw narrowed, his skin lightened to pale perfection, and his dark hair lightened to flowing blond locks that caught the morning sunlight.
Within seconds, his true face emerged—devastatingly handsome with angular, aristocratic features and piercing blue eyes that seemed to dissect everything they saw.
But his beauty was the kind that belonged on fallen angels—perfect and terrible. There was no warmth in those blue eyes, no humanity in that flawless face, only predatory intelligence and ancient malice.
Terror filled Gunnar and Ebony’s blue eyes as recognition dawned and blood drained from their faces.
Bile burned in my gut, and I had to swallow hard to keep from vomiting right there in the marshy ground. The taste of betrayal burned my throat with the overwhelming remorse that threatened to consume me whole.
“Ari, you did it!” Marsha’s voice rang out with triumphant glee as she rushed outside, her heels clicking against the wooden steps. Her face was flushed with excitement, and her eyes glittered with the kind of satisfaction that came from witnessing others’ suffering.
“Of course I did,” Ari replied with casual arrogance. He motioned toward the waiting guards with an imperious gesture. “Bring them inside. Carefully. I need them conscious for what comes next.”
“What are you going to do to them?” I stared in horror at the two royal figures bound by my own darkness.
Ari’s perfect lips curved into a smile that belonged on a Renaissance painting of a beautiful devil, cold and terrible in its flawless symmetry.
His blue eyes gleamed with anticipation as he watched Ebony struggle against my shadow-bonds, her regal composure cracking under the strain of supernatural restraint.
“Move the shadows on Ebony so we can properly bind her wrists,” he commanded with casual authority, as if he were discussing what to order at a restaurant rather than orchestrating the imprisonment of demon royalty.
My shame was like a punch to the gut, and I doubled over slightly. “Show her wrists,” I said, as hot tears burned tracks down my cheeks. Each word felt like swallowing broken glass.
I moved my trembling hand in a subtle gesture, and the shadows responded to my will like obedient serpents.
They parted around Ebony’s wrists, the dark tendrils pulling back to expose her pale flesh to the humid morning air.
The moment her hands were visible, Marsha pounced with predatory efficiency.
The silver bracelets clamped around Ebony’s wrists with loud clicks, sounding like snapping branches.
The moment the cursed metal touched her skin, I saw her face contort with pain, the same burning agony I knew all too well.
A soft hiss escaped her lips—the only sound of distress she allowed herself to make.
“Chain her up,” Marsha commanded as she stood, brushing dirt from her knees with satisfied movements.
The guards moved with practiced brutality, their thick hands grabbing Ebony under her arms and dragging her across the uneven ground toward the stone pillar where Valentin was now fully conscious and struggling desperately against his own restraints.
His dark hair was matted with sweat and blood, and his eyes blazed with fury as he watched his captors manhandle the demon queen. He was gagged and unable to speak.