Page 33

Chapter Thirty-One

Enzo

She searched my eyes, hers glistening with unshed tears that threatened to spill over her lower lashes.

The red light caught the moisture, making them shimmer like blood-stained diamonds.

Hope and suspicion warred on her face as she weighed my words against countless broken promises she’d heard before.

“How?” She glanced at her reflection in the mirror beside us, taking in her too-adult makeup and revealing clothes with a flash of shame. “I belong to him.”

The word “belong” ignited something ancient and furious within me. No child belonged to anyone, especially not a man who would chain her wrists and sell her body.

“You’ve heard of my reputation?” I let just a hint of the predator show in my smile—enough to confirm the whispered stories, but not enough to break her fragile trust. The mirrored walls reflected my expression from multiple angles, creating the illusion of a room full of dangerous men.

Fear radiated off her in waves, her scent sharpening with fresh adrenaline. A fine tremor ran through her body, visible in the slight quivering of her lower lip. “Yes,” she whispered, eyes darting to the locked door before returning to my face. “But why would you help me?”

She tilted her head, watching me through lowered lashes while her lips pressed into a thin line. In her world, nothing came without a terrible price.

I studied her, taking in details my vampire senses revealed that human eyes would miss—the slight malnutrition evident in her brittle hair, the fading track marks partially hidden by her bracelets, the way she unconsciously made herself smaller, a learned behavior from months of abuse. My jaw tightened imperceptibly.

“What’s your name?” I kept my voice deliberately gentle, a tone I rarely used—one reserved for witnesses I needed to coax rather than terrify.

“Gloria.” The word emerged tentatively, as if she hadn’t spoken her real name in so long she’d nearly forgotten it. Her fingers played nervously with the hem of her too-short skirt, picking at a loose sequin.

“Gloria,” I repeated, the name a contract between us now. “I take care of my informants.”

The mirrors around us captured our strange tableau from every angle—the ageless vampire and the child forced to grow up too soon, both searching for someone lost. Santi family protection colored my words—a promise backed by centuries of power.

She shifted her weight, wincing slightly as she leaned against her bruised back. “I’m just a lowly whore. It’s not like they tell me anything.” The self-loathing in her voice was bitter and practiced, words she’d been forced to internalize.

“I’m sure you’ve at least heard rumors about where Maximo took her.

” I drew nearer, mindful that these walls sometimes had ears.

“Is she here or at one of Maximo’s other clubs?

Does he have a secret place?” I maintained eye contact, watching how her pupils dilated slightly at the implied knowledge of girls who disappeared.

The scent of her fear spiked, mingling with something else—a desperate hope that perhaps salvation was possible.

She gave me a pleading look, her eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears.

Her fingers twisted the cheap bracelet on her wrist, the nervous gesture of someone weighing impossible choices.

“You’ll really keep my sister safe?” The question came out broken, the voice of someone who’d had every promise ever made to her shattered.

“I promise.” In my long existence, I had broken many things—bones, bodies, lives—but never my word. I lifted her chin again, my cold fingers gentle against her bruised skin. “Tell me what you heard.”

Her lower lip trembled, and she glanced at the door as if expecting Fremont to burst through at any moment.

The pounding bass from the club vibrated through the walls, masking our conversation from human ears but providing a rhythm to her accelerating heartbeat.

“I don’t know if this means anything,” she whispered, leaning closer as if sharing a terrible secret, “but he bought an old fort.”

My body went still with predatory focus, the kind of unnatural stillness that often frightened humans instinctively. “Fort? What fort?” I forced my breathing to stay even as excitement threatened to crack my carefully maintained composure.

“All I know is that it was abandoned and used during the War of 1812.” She raised her head, a hint of certainty returning, as if pleased to provide something concrete.

“One of the girls who... disappeared... she was taken there first. She managed to send a text to her friend here before her phone was taken. Said it was in the bayou, surrounded by water and cypress trees. Almost impossible to find unless you know where to look.”

The information clicked into place in my mind—a fortress hidden in the swamps, dating back to America’s second war against the British, a perfect place to hide someone you didn’t want found.

The Louisiana bayou was a labyrinth of waterways and isolated islands, a place where screams would be swallowed by wilderness and secrets could remain buried forever.

My jaw tightened as images of Joy trapped in such a place flashed through my mind. How long had she been there? What had Maximo done to her? The glass of the mirror beside us cracked slightly under the pressure of my fingers—a lapse in control I hadn’t experienced in decades.

“The mirror,” she gasped, flinching back as the crack spread like a spider’s web across the reflective surface.

Her eyes widened at this casual display of strength, a physical reminder of what I was capable of.

Her heart rate spiked, the rhythm changing from fear to something closer to awe mingled with terror.

I pulled my hand away, brushing glass dust from my fingertips. The scent of her fear had changed subtly—no longer afraid of me, but of what would happen when I left. My mind raced, calculating how to ensure her safety after I departed.

“Tell Duncan that I tasted your charms and that’s how the mirror got broken.” I stared at her, willing her to follow my instructions that might save her life. “Then you told me that Joy was dead so I would stop looking for her.”

Hope flickered across her features, quickly replaced by doubt. She bit her lower lip, leaving a small smear of gloss on her teeth. “Will he believe that?”

“Yes.” I gave her a smile that didn’t reach my eyes, the kind that had made hardened criminals confess their sins. The kind that promised consequences for those who crossed me. “I’ll make sure he does.”

Understanding passed between us—an unspoken assurance that Duncan would have more to worry about than questioning her story once I was finished with him. The red light caught the tears still clinging to her lashes, making them glisten like drops of blood.

She clasped my arm with her trembling hand, her touch featherlight, desperate. Her fingers were ice cold with fear, nails bitten to the quick. “Remember your promise about my sister?”

I covered her small hand with mine, a gesture I hadn’t made in decades—physical comfort was rarely part of my role as enforcer. “I’ll remember. And I keep my promises.”

My vow settled around us, more binding than any contract written in ink.

In that moment, her fate and her sister’s became entangled with mine—another responsibility I hadn’t sought but wouldn’t shirk.

The mirrored walls created a haunting kaleidoscope—a monster making a promise to save a child, both knowing that blood would be spilled before the night was through.

I paused at the door, realizing a critical flaw in our plan. If she acted fearful or nervous, Duncan would suspect something. She needed to act normal—as if nothing more significant than a routine private dance had occurred. The slightest hint of our conversation would put her in grave danger.

I clasped her arms gently but firmly, feeling the delicate bones beneath my fingers.

Her skin was warm against my cool touch, her pulse racing with adrenaline.

Drawing on my compulsion, I focused my will into a concentrated force, letting the power build until it tingled through my fingertips and into her consciousness.

“You will act normal,” I commanded, my voice taking on a hypnotic quality that no human could resist. I caught my reflection in the mirror—my pupils dilating as the power flowed between us, creating an unbreakable connection.

“Nothing is amiss. You danced for me and I kissed you—nothing more. That’s how the mirror got broken. ”

The air between us seemed to thicken as the compulsion took hold. Gloria’s breathing slowed, her pupils expanding until her eyes were mostly black. The fear drained from her scent, replaced by a calm compliance that would keep her safe until I could fulfill my promise.

“I understand,” she responded, almost dreamlike. The transformation was subtle but complete—her posture relaxed, her expression shifting to the practiced seductive mask she wore for clients. Even the way she held her hands changed, no longer protective but casual.

I released her and adjusted my suit jacket, smoothing away any evidence of our intense conversation. I placed a hand lightly at the small of her back as I escorted her out of the room, the gesture possessive enough to satisfy watching eyes.

The club’s cacophony hit us as we reentered the main area—pounding music, clinking glasses, the murmur of desperate conversations. The shifting colored lights played across faces frozen in various states of artificial pleasure. Gloria moved casually at my side.

I scanned the room for Duncan, my eyes cutting through the manufactured haze and darkness with preternatural clarity. My senses extended beyond human limitation, searching for his heartbeat, his scent, any trace of the man who had marked Gloria’s wrists with chains.

But he wasn’t at his usual post. The spot where he’d been standing was now occupied by one of Maximo’s lower-ranking men, a thug whose name I’d never bothered to learn. Where had the bastard gone? A ripple of unease moved through me. Duncan’s absence felt calculated rather than coincidental.

I maintained my mask of bored indifference while my mind raced through possibilities, none of them good.

Had he somehow sensed my true purpose? Was Gloria’s performance not the only trap laid tonight?

My fangs instinctively pressed against my gums, ready to extend at a moment’s notice.

The predator within me stirred fully awake now, senses heightening further as I continued my casual surveillance, ready to unleash centuries of lethal power should an ambush be taking shape around me.