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Chapter Thirty-Three

Joy

I dipped in and out of consciousness, exhaustion dragging me under like a stone tossed into murky waters.

My eyelids fluttered against the absolute darkness, unsure if they were open or closed, reality blurring at the edges.

Each shallow breath echoed sharply in my confined prison, the sound bouncing back to mock me.

My knuckles throbbed—raw and sticky with blood from hours of pounding against unyielding metal.

I curled my fingers inward, wincing as the torn skin pulled tight, each heartbeat sending fresh waves of pain through my hands.

My sandpaper-rough throat ached from the remnants of screams that had accomplished nothing but to steal what little moisture remained in my body.

All I heard was nothingness—a silence so complete it seemed to have taken on a life of its own, pressing against my eardrums until they hurt.

The absence of sound became its own kind of torture, leaving me alone with the rasp of my breathing and the thunder of my pulse.

Forgotten in my cramped chamber of horrors, I had become a secret even to those who had imprisoned me.

I shifted my leg a fraction of an inch, seeking any relief from the cramping, and gasped as dull pain from my fall pulsed over me like electricity through water.

Every bruise and wrenched muscle announced itself in a chorus of agony.

I had broken out in a cold sweat, my skin clammy and slick against the metal floor, the acrid scent of fear mingling with the copper tang of blood in the stale air.

Time had lost all meaning. Had it been hours? Days? Sometimes it seemed like it was cooler. Maybe that had been nighttime. But I wasn’t sure. Nothing seemed real except for the darkness.

It was eternal, unchanging. I pressed my forehead against the cool metal lid, seeking any sensation that wasn’t pain. A sob caught in my chest, but I swallowed it back—crying would only waste precious moisture, would only confirm my helplessness.

“Please,” I whispered to the shadows that should have been mine to command.

I reached for them with my mind, grasping desperately at that connection.

For a moment—just a heartbeat—I felt something stir in response, a whisper of power flickering like a dying ember.

My heart leaped, but then it was gone, snuffed out by my own exhaustion.

I was truly alone. Even the shadows had abandoned me.

A piercing scream sliced through the silence, so close it might have come from just outside my metal prison.

The sound—high and desperate, raw with terror—froze my heart mid-beat.

My body went rigid, every muscle locking in horror as ice flooded my veins.

Panic pulsed through me in violent waves, my breath coming in ragged gasps that echoed in the metal confines.

Zoe. Ellie. Mina. Their faces flashed behind my eyes, young and terrified. What if it was one of the girls? What if Marsha had moved on to her next victim right here, just feet away from where I lay helpless, trapped like a forgotten doll in a metal coffin?

I tried to draw on my shadows, clawing desperately at that well of power within me. Nothing. Not even a tingle shimmered through me, just a hollow emptiness. A whimper escaped my cracked lips, the sound pathetically small against the memory of that scream.

I kicked and pounded on the top with renewed frenzy, my heels drumming against the metal, my fists hammering until fresh blood slicked my skin.

Pain shot up my arms, but I welcomed it—anything to fight the suffocating helplessness.

Desperation rushed through me, hot and electric, drowning out all reason and self-preservation.

I had to save them. Had to get out. Had to stop whatever was happening beyond these metal walls.

“Please,” I pleaded. Tears burned trails down my temples, pooling in my ears. “Please, not them. Take me instead.” My words contained every ounce of strength I had left.

And then—a flicker. A response. Something swirled around me.

My shadows? Were they answering my call at last?

Hope surged in my chest, nearly choking me with its intensity—until I realized the truth.

My shadows had come, but they were as trapped as I was, unable to slip through the seams of the box, unable to extend beyond my prison.

They curled around my fingers like frightened animals, seeking comfort rather than offering escape.

Another scream pierced the air, even closer this time, as if someone was being tormented just outside my box.

The sound reverberated through the metal walls, vibrating against my skin.

I could practically feel the agony in that voice, could almost recognize whose it might be.

My body twisted violently with dread and helplessness.

I couldn’t tell if the voice was female or not.

Time was running out.

“No. Don’t hurt them.” Raw emotion scraped and splintered my throat as the words echoed off the metal walls inside the box.

Desperation surged through me like electricity, giving strength to my battered limbs as I renewed my effort of kicking and pounding on the dreaded lid.

Each impact sent shockwaves of pain up my arms and legs, but I couldn’t stop—wouldn’t stop.

My fingernails bent and broke against the unyielding surface, fear for the others overwhelming my own agony.

A growl outside stopped my efforts—a sound so deep and inhuman it vibrated through the metal against my back.

My breath caught in my lungs, my heart stuttering with a new kind of terror.

Something scraped against the box, metal grinding against metal, the sound piercing my eardrums. My body tensed, coiling tight as a spring as I prepared to face whatever new horror awaited.

The lid swung open with a screech that made my teeth ache. Cold air rushed in, shocking my sweat-slicked skin as my shadows—finally free—sprang out in a violent burst, swirling in protective fury around a dark figure looming above me.

“Joy?”

That voice. It couldn’t be. My mind was playing cruel tricks, fabricating salvation from despair. “Enzo?” My hope was so fragile in my chest I feared even speaking his name might shatter it.

The shadows faded away like mist in sunlight, responding to the recognition in my heart before my mind could process it.

And it was him—real and solid and there.

Just like last time, blood dribbled down his chin in crimson rivulets, stark against his pale skin.

His cream shirt had turned a glistening red, soaked through with evidence of the violence that had preceded this moment.

His eyes burned with an intensity that stole what little breath remained in my lungs.

I winced as he grabbed my hand, but his cool fingers encircled my wrist with gentle urgency.

The contrast between his tender grip and the savage fury in his expression sent a shiver down my spine.

He pulled me out of the box in one fluid motion, supporting my weight as my legs threatened to buckle beneath me.

“Who did this to you?” Controlled rage vibrated beneath each syllable. He held me as if I might break, even as his body radiated lethal purpose.

A wild drumbeat echoed in my chest, confusion blurring my brain.

Relief and fear and exhaustion tangled together until I couldn’t separate one emotion from another.

The courtyard spun around me, faces and shadows merging in a dizzying kaleidoscope.

I clutched his bloodied shirt to steady myself, anchoring to the one certainty in this nightmare.

“Marsha.” Her name tasted like sour vinegar on my tongue. I felt the tremor that went through Enzo’s body at the sound of it—a predator hearing the name of its prey.

Enzo’s head snapped up, his body tensing like a bull elk sensing danger.

His eyes narrowed as he scanned the courtyard, nostrils flaring slightly as he took in scents I couldn’t detect.

The moonlight cast harsh shadows across his blood-spattered face, highlighting the ancient vigilance in his expression.

“I’ve got to get you out of here.” One arm curved protectively around my waist, already angling my body toward what I assumed was an escape route. “Now.”

Screams and hisses echoed around us, bouncing off stone walls and twisting into something inhuman that raised the hair on my arms. The sounds weren’t just of pain—there was something primal and otherworldly in them, something that made my shadows twist restlessly around my ankles.

I clasped my fingers into his shirt, feeling the wet fabric stick to my skin, the salt-heavy scent of blood filling my nose.

My legs still trembled beneath me, but determination hardened in my chest. “No,” I insisted, sounding stronger than I expected.

“You have to save the other girls this time.” The faces of Zoe, Ellie, and Mina flashed through my mind, their terror even more vivid after the horror I’d just endured inside that box.

Frustration and urgency battled across Enzo’s features. He cupped my face with one hand, his touch gentle despite the tension thrumming through his body. “You don’t understand.” His eyes locked with mine, willing me to comprehend. “Your captors aren’t human. They’re Dark Demons.”

It was as if he had suddenly started speaking in tongues, a language I’d never heard of, a meaning I couldn’t grasp. Not demons from hell or religious nightmares—something else entirely.

“Dark... Demons?” I whispered.

A crash from across the courtyard drew my attention.

I followed Enzo’s gaze, my breath catching painfully in my throat.

The men in the courtyard were fighting Steve and Angelo with savage intensity, moving with impossible speed that blurred their outlines.

But it wasn’t their movements that made my heart stutter—it was what erupted from their backs as they fought.

Dark wings—leathery and vast—unfurled from their shoulder blades, spanning wider than seemed possible.

The wings weren’t like illustrations of fallen angels or the feathered appendages I’d imagined—they were membranous and muscled, more like a bat’s but larger, stronger, edged with what looked like razor-sharp bone.

As I watched, one of the creatures turned, the moonlight catching its face. For a moment, it looked human—then its features rippled, revealing elongated canines and eyes that reflected light like an animal’s.

Steve dodged a blade by mere inches, moving with the preternatural speed only vampires possess.

Razor-sharp fangs emerged from his gums, prominent and lethal against his snarling lips as he countered with a blur of motion.

His fist connected with Henry’s jaw with a crack that echoed off the stone walls—a blow that would have shattered a human’s skull.

Henry merely staggered back two steps before laughing, a sound like stones grinding together.

“You’re strong, leech,” Henry taunted, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “But we’ve been killing your kind since before your maker was born.”

“Maybe so, but I’m dangerous—a newly turned vampire.”

“What makes you so dangerous?” Henry scoffed.

“Because I’m always hungry.”

My brother’s answer left me reeling—did he just threaten to drain Henry dry?

This was the brother who’d always looked out for me, now talking about feeding on someone like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Relief warred with horror as I watched him, strong and predatory in ways that made my stomach turn.

I had prayed for Steve to be saved, but I hadn’t expected vampirism. Watching him now, I could only hope that newly turned vampires were stronger than Dark Demons, a species I knew nothing about.

Steve circled warily, hands curled into claws. “Talk less, bleed more,” he growled, feinting left before diving right, using his supernatural strength to tackle Henry mid-wing beat. They crashed into the courtyard wall, stone crumbling under the impact.

With horrified fascination, I watched my brother—who I’d seen win countless bar fights with casual ease—struggling against this otherworldly opponent.

Henry’s wings beat once, powerful enough to create a gust that threw Steve back several feet.

The Dark Demon was already advancing, sword weaving patterns of death in the air between them.

I ran toward Steve, not wanting to lose him again. But Enzo caught me, pulling me against his powerful chest.

“No, let me go. I can’t lose him.” Fear pumped through me, stealing my breath and nearly stopping my heart.

It was exactly as Zoe had described through terrified sobs—the wings, the inhuman strength, the weapons that seemed born from darkness itself. The monsters I’d dismissed as hallucinations born from trauma were terrifyingly real, and one was trying to kill my brother before my eyes.