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Chapter Sixteen

Joy

Maximo hadn’t taken me back to his home, back to my room.

I pictured Anton’s book sitting on Maximo’s desk where Marsha had slammed it down after taking it from me.

My fingers itched with the need to touch those ancient pages again.

The book would have given me more information about my power, about how to control the shadows that seemed to respond to my emotions.

Instead, he’d taken me to a mansion in the bayou, a place I’d never been before. The sprawling Victorian structure loomed with its imposing facade. It was surrounded by oak trees draped with Spanish moss that had swayed gently in the humid air.

I was stuck in an ornate bedroom, tied to a wooden chair.

My friend Zoe had already been strapped to the bed when I was dragged into the room.

Her eyes were wide with fear, and ice-cold dread pooled in my stomach.

I knew exactly why Marsha had brought her here—Zoe was leverage, a way to ensure my cooperation.

The bruises from Marsha’s previous “lessons” were barely faded on Zoe’s arms, a visual reminder of what would happen if I refused to comply.

Marsha had been furious with me too, her eyes burning with a hatred that sent chills down my spine as she struck me repeatedly across my face.

Each blow had stung worse than the last, but I’d refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

She acted as if I was the one who had engineered my escape, as if I had somehow betrayed her trust. It’s not like I contacted Enzo—he had found me on his own, had seen something in me worth saving.

Maximo had stood there and watched Marsha beat me.

He actually had a bored expression on his face.

Tears had flowed down Zoe’s face as she watched helplessly from the bed.

She was still wearing the same white ceremonial gown, marking her as a virgin.

She thrashed her head back and forth, her red hair whipping across her pale face as she yanked desperately on her restraints.

I took a deep breath as I looked over at the window, trying not to concentrate on the throbbing pain.

The heavy red velvet curtains were shut tight, only allowing a thin sliver of golden afternoon light to slice through the slit like a blade.

Dust motes danced in that solitary beam, swirling with each anxious breath I took.

There was a hint of stale perfume in the room that clung to everything—the silk bedspread, the tasseled lampshades, the ornately carved furniture—a sickly sweet floral scent that barely masked darker odors beneath.

It all hinted of women being forced to serve clients in here, of fear and desperation soaked into the very walls.

At the thought, bile rose in my throat as I swallowed hard against the wave of nausea.

The gilded opulence of the room couldn’t disguise its true purpose—a beautiful cage for beautiful birds they intended to sell.

My hands were securely tied behind my back, the ropes digging into my skin with every slight movement. The metallic taste of blood lingered on my tongue. I could feel my cheek swelling already, tightening the skin across my face.

Maximo stepped closer, his towering frame blocking what little light filtered through the curtained windows. He wrapped his hand in my hair, his fingers ice cold against my scalp, and yanked my head back hard.

I winced as I stared into his merciless eyes. “Where are we?”

“Someplace where your hero won’t find you. You will learn that you belong to me,” he whispered, his breath chilling my ear, “and you will do as I say.”

His words sent ice through my veins, and for a moment, real fear clouded my thoughts.

Enzo wouldn’t know where to look for me.

My breath caught in my throat as Maximo’s presence loomed over me, his confidence suffocating.

But then I thought of the light I’d always carried inside, the same light that had somehow connected to shadows, and I found my center again.

I swallowed hard, tasting blood, and chose my words carefully. Even now, I searched for some way to catch him off guard, some way to get more information from him.

“There’s goodness in you too, Maximo,” I whispered through swollen lips, wincing as even those few words sent pain shooting across my bruised face.

Despite the effort it took to speak, I met his gaze with a fierce determination.

If he believed me, maybe he and Marsha wouldn’t hurt Zoe.

“Everyone has light inside them, even when they can’t see it themselves. ”

Something flickered in his eyes—confusion, perhaps even a moment of recognition—before his mask of cruelty returned. But I’d seen it, that tiny spark, and it gave me hope.

Marsha appeared behind him, her crimson lips curved into a smile that never reached her eyes. Splashes of my blood were on her black dress and on her palms. She whispered something into his ear that I couldn’t hear.

Maximo nodded as if agreeing with her, his gaze never faltering.

Then she pulled away and patted his arm.

“Come, Maximo.” Her hips swayed as she headed toward the door as if trying to entice him.

“We have much to do to prepare for another auction since the last one was so rudely disrupted. The buyers are impatient for our girls, and we only have two days to prepare for the next one.”

Two days? I had to find a way to save these girls.

Without saying another word, Maximo dropped his hand from my hair and followed Marsha out. The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind him, and I heard the distinct click of a key turning in the lock.

Tears glistened in Zoe’s eyes and she muffled something underneath her gag, but I couldn’t understand her.

I pulled on my restraints, but they wouldn’t budge.

I doubled my efforts as I turned my wrists and pulled on my arms, the rope digging deeper and deeper into my flesh.

Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and rolled down my temples.

“I’ll get us out of here, Zoe. I promise. I won’t let anyone buy you.”

Something fluttered in my chest and I thought I saw a shadow quiver underneath her bed.

I wished Enzo would burst through the door like he had last time.

But I didn’t even know if he was alive. The last I’d seen him, he had been wounded, dark blood pouring from his chest. How had Maximo wounded Enzo so badly?

He wasn’t a supernatural. Marsha must have given him something that hurt vampires, even a vampire over three hundred years old.

A loud click stopped my struggling. Crap, they were back.

But neither Marsha nor Maximo entered the room. Henry did, one of Maximo’s men. He didn’t even look at me, as usual. I was just a burden in his eyes. Something that he had to guard and wasn’t worth a simple hello. His gaze was focused on poor Zoe.

He took off his jacket, revealing his gun holster, and flung it on a velvet chair. Desire flashed in his gray eyes, cold and predatory. A lump of dread clogged my throat as he stared at Zoe. “Maximo said I should sample the goods. I can’t fuck you, bitch, but I can do everything else.”

Zoe shook her head frantically and twisted the restraints, her eyes wide with terror and humiliation. She was a helpless victim sprawled out on the bed for his taking. The pressure built between my eyes as rage and fear churned through me, a violent undertow pulling me toward darkness.

“Stay away from her!”

Henry sat on the bed and slowly pulled up her gown until it was bunched up at her neck. Her breasts were exposed and she had a birth mark on her left one. He ran his hand over it with a sickening possessiveness. “Exquisite.”

Bastard! I pulled on my restraints like a wild woman, wanting to scratch his eyes out, but I couldn’t break free.

He bent over and suckled her breast. Zoe let out a startled sob that cut through me like a knife, ripping me open. Tears streamed down her face as she turned her head away, closing her eyes tight.

“No!” I screamed, thrashing against my restraints with such feral desperation that the chair legs scraped against the floor.

I pulled until my shoulders threatened to dislocate, until my skin tore and blood streamed down my wrists, soaking into the rope fibers.

I kept fighting even as the pain sharpened, even as my vision spotted with the effort.

But it was pointless. The ropes held firm.

Something fierce and protective rose inside me, a fury so pure it burned away every other thought. The shadows in the corners of the room began to pulse.

A tingling sensation spread from my core to my fingertips as rage and protective fury crystallized inside me. The shadows continued to writhe and dance, responding to the storm of emotions within me. I focused all my will on them.

A hand formed in my mind, massive and powerful, and to my astonishment, the shadows swirled together, forming a giant shadowy fist that pulsated with dark energy. It hovered near the ceiling, solid yet made of darkness itself, my anger and determination giving it form.

“Get him off her,” I commanded. The words seemed to vibrate through the air, echoing with authority that didn’t even sound like me. My eyes burned with intensity as I poured every ounce of protective instinct into the shadow manifestation.

Henry lifted his head, confusion flickering across his face as he sensed the sudden chill in the room. His eyes widened in terror as he caught sight of the massive shadow hand looming above him.

“What the f—” Before he could finish, the shadowy fist plunged downward with frightening speed. It slammed into him with surprising solidity, tearing him away from Zoe and hurling him across the room.

He crashed onto the floor with a crumpled thud, the impact forcing the air from his lungs in a pained whoosh. The gun holster clattered against the hardwood as he lay there stunned, his eyes glazed with shock and fear.

The shadowy hand hovered protectively over Zoe for a moment, then gradually dissolved back into wisps of darkness that retreated to the corners of the room.

As my heartbeat slowed, my vision darkened at the edges and a coppery taste filled my mouth.

The exertion of what I’d just done left me dizzy and drained.

But seeing Zoe safe from his touch, even momentarily, was worth whatever toll this power took on me.

The door swung open with a loud bang against the wall.

Maximo burst in, his eyes immediately calculating as they scanned the room.

He took in every detail with cold precision—Henry’s crumpled form on the floor groaning in pain, Zoe lying partially naked and trembling on the bed, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks, and me, slumped in my chair with blood trickling from my nose onto my already stained shirt.

“Interesting,” he murmured as he stepped over Henry without so much as a glance of concern.

Marsha appeared in the doorway behind him, her crimson lips parting in a triumphant smile as she surveyed the chaos. She laughed—a high, brittle sound that scraped against my ears like broken glass, reminiscent of the witch in Snow White. The sound echoed off the walls, devoid of any genuine mirth.

“See, Maximo?” she purred, circling around me like a predator. “I told you. Her power is all about protection.” She reached out and lifted my chin with one sharp-nailed finger, forcing me to meet her gaze. “All we have to do is make sure she has something to protect to get her to do what we want.”

Her cold, harsh words stole the breath from my lungs.

My power—the shadows I was only beginning to understand—wasn’t freedom at all.

It was another chain they could use to bind me.

Ice spread through my veins as the horrible truth dawned on me: the more I cared about protecting others, the more vulnerable I became to their manipulation.

“No,” I whispered, the word barely audible.

The room seemed to dim around me as despair threatened to extinguish the light I’d always carried inside. How many people would have to get hurt to satisfy their lust to manipulate my power? How many innocent lives would they threaten just to control me?

I looked over at Zoe, who still had her gown bunched up around her neck, and saw my own horror reflected in her eyes. In trying to protect her, I’d revealed the very weapon they would use against both of us. Against everyone I cared about.

Henry staggered to his feet and glared at me with pure hatred. “Bitch.”

He struck me with a closed fist, the impact cracking against my jaw. Pain ricocheted inside my skull as my head snapped sideways. The room tilted violently, darkness rushing in from the edges of my vision until consciousness slipped away entirely.