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Chapter Thirty-Nine

Enzo

Angelo led us out of the fort, the night air thick with the stench of blood and death we’d left behind.

Cicadas screamed from the surrounding trees, their relentless chorus a stark contrast to the eerie silence from the girls.

The gravel crunched beneath our boots as we approached the clearing where Pascal waited with the limousine, its black surface gleaming like oil under the moonlight.

Surprisingly, all the girls fit in the back seat.

They were crammed but they fit, huddling together like frightened birds, their heartbeats a rapid symphony to my sensitive ears.

Some wept silently, while others stared with vacant eyes that had seen too much.

The scent of their fear hung in the air, acrid and sharp, making my fangs itch beneath my gums.

Steve still carried the red-headed girl close to him, her small frame dwarfed in his arms. Her pulse was weak but steady, the rhythm somehow different from the others.

I watched as he adjusted his hold, his fingers careful against her bruised and blistered skin, cradling her head as if she were made of spun glass.

Something had shifted in him—the predator momentarily tamed by something more powerful than bloodlust.

I recognized the look in his eyes—the same fierce protectiveness that had driven me to tear through Maximo’s men tonight. The same need that now pulled me toward Joy with an intensity that bordered on obsession. Steve might have found something worth protecting, just as I had.

“I’m going to ride in the limo.” His eyes had darkened, possessive and protective in equal measure.

He opened the passenger door and slid into the passenger side, cradling the redhead against his chest. His movement against the seat created a soft whisper of friction, unnaturally loud in the tense silence.

Through the tinted window, I caught his gaze one last time—a look that spoke volumes about what he was feeling.

The newborn vampire was experiencing something I recognized all too well.

Angelo nodded to Pascal, who slipped behind the wheel with military precision.

The engine purred to life, a low rumble that scattered nearby night birds from their perches.

Mud sprayed from beneath the tires as the limousine began its journey through the bayou, the red taillights slowly disappearing into the misty darkness.

Dimitri emerged from the shadows, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, which he then licked clean with dramatic flair. His eyes gleamed with a predatory light as he surveyed what remained of our night’s work.

“Well, isn’t this touching?” he drawled, nodding toward the departing limousine.

“Baby vamp’s found himself a little human pet.

Do we need to have the birds and the bees talk with him?

Or in our case, the bats and the blood?” His smirk was infuriating as always, but I caught the slight tension in his shoulders that betrayed his eagerness to return to Gianna.

“Let’s go,” Angelo said, tilting his head. As I followed him, I heard the chorus of insects and the distant call of an alligator. Already his form was beginning to shimmer at the edges, the ancient magic of transformation rippling beneath his skin.

Dimitri rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. Race you back? Last one there has to explain to Elena why there’s blood on the Persian rug... again.” His form began to blur and contract, the transformation more showy than necessary—typical Dimitri.

I closed my eyes, surrendering to the change.

My bones cracked and reformed, skin dissolving into leathery wings as my consciousness compressed into something primal yet focused.

The night air felt different against my altered form—richer, filled with currents and scents imperceptible to human senses.

With a powerful thrust, I launched skyward, Angelo’s dark form beside me and Dimitri’s slightly smaller bat shape already darting ahead with characteristic impatience.

The fort shrank beneath us, its blood-soaked corridors already becoming just another memory in centuries of violence.

But unlike those other memories, I now had something to return to—someone waiting whose heartbeat I could almost hear, even across the miles of cypress and water that separated us.

Joy. The thought of her name was enough to propel me faster through the starlit sky, a strange hunger that had nothing to do with blood driving me homeward.

The city lights were like a beacon, leading me back to Joy.

The night air rushed past me, carrying the scents of the bayou—cypress, moss, and murky water.

My thoughts centered only on her, an obsession I couldn’t shake.

She probably would want me to remain with the girls, her compassion extending to others first. But I had searched so long for her only to have her stolen from me once, that all I could think about was being with her and pulling her into my arms, feeling her warmth against my cold skin, her pulse fluttering beneath my fingertips.

A sudden chill cut through the night, different from the usual coolness of altitude.

The air thickened, grew heavy with malevolence that even in bat form I could sense.

In the dark clouds ahead, a pair of red eyes materialized—not animal, not vampire, but something ancient and malicious.

They glowed like twin embers, unblinking and unnaturally still against the shifting vapors of the cloud bank.

Was that Ari? The hatred emanating from those eyes was palpable, shooting at me like shards of ice that pierced even my vampiric resistance to cold.

Rage filled me, primal and consuming. My small bat form trembled with it, wings beating harder against the sudden resistance in the air.

Was he following us? Had he tracked us from the fort?

My thoughts raced to Joy at Crescent Manor.

Angelo’s men were capable fighters, but if our enemies knew Angelo and I were gone, would they attempt something bold?

Serenity and the others might not be enough.

Angelo veered sharply, his larger bat form cutting through the night like a shadow given purpose.

He headed directly toward the cloud where the eyes hovered, fearless as always.

The crimson orbs widened momentarily—surprise, perhaps fear—before vanishing as if they had never been there at all.

Whatever was hiding thought better than to face the vampire king, even in this realm between earth and sky where we all became creatures of darkness.

The cloud itself seemed to recoil, dispersing unnaturally fast as if fleeing Angelo’s approach.

A faint sulfuric scent lingered, confirming my suspicions.

Dark Demon. They were watching us, tracking our movements, perhaps planning their next move in whatever game they were playing—a game that somehow involved Joy.

I pushed myself faster, racing toward the only thing that now mattered in my centuries of existence.

Angelo shot through the cloud where the creature had been hiding but came out again, his bat form momentarily illuminated by a shaft of moonlight.

Even without words, I could sense his frustration—whatever had been watching us had vanished completely, leaving nothing but that lingering sulfuric scent.

We all three raced toward Crescent Manor, our wings cutting through the night sky with desperate speed.

The urgent need to protect Joy raced through me like liquid fire, burning away centuries of careful control.

The thought of her in danger again clawed at my insides, a visceral pain that surprised me with its intensity.

I couldn’t risk losing her again—not when I’d just found her, not when she’d awakened something in me I thought had died the night I was turned.

Dimitri flew slightly ahead, his smaller form more agile in the air currents.

Even he seemed to sense the gravity of the situation, his usual playfulness absent in the determined beat of his wings.

Angelo maintained a steady course beside me, his presence a cold comfort.

If Dark Demons were truly returning to New Orleans, even the boss would face a challenge that could rock our empire.

The image of Joy’s face floated in my mind—her defiant eyes, the stubborn set of her jaw, the way her pulse jumped at the base of her throat when she was afraid but trying not to show it.

The thought that those red eyes might be fixed on her, hunting her, made my vision sharpen with predatory focus.

I would tear apart anyone—anything—that threatened her.

Three centuries I had walked this earth, taking what I wanted without hesitation or remorse. This human woman had become something I couldn’t bear to lose. The realization was as terrifying as it was exhilarating, a vulnerability I hadn’t allowed myself to feel since I was turned.

Crescent Manor appeared on the horizon, its old walls gleaming pale against the darkness of the surrounding oaks. Home. Safety. Joy. The three concepts had somehow become entwined in my mind, inseparable and vital in a way nothing had been for longer than I cared to remember.

I soared past Dimitri and landed first on the ground, the transformation back to human form swift and violent in my urgency.

The night had taken on an unnatural stillness—no crickets chirped, no night birds called, as if the wildlife sensed the predators among them.

Fog crept across the grounds of Crescent Manor, tendrils of mist curling around ancient oaks like ghostly fingers.

The air felt charged, heavy with the promise of violence.

Drawing on vampire speed, I burst through the back door, throwing it off its hinges, my teeth bared and fangs fully extended, ready to tear apart anything that dared to threaten Joy.

The taste of her name in my mind was sweeter than any blood I’d ever consumed.

My vision sharpened, the world taking on the crimson tinge that came with rage and bloodlust combined.

She was mine—the realization burning through centuries of carefully constructed indifference—and no one, not Ari, not any Dark Demon that dared walk this earth, would take her from me again.