Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Serenity

After Angelo left, I didn't have much choice but to roam around the library, especially with Jacques watching my every move. Curiosity welled up inside me to read these books and to actually learn about my heritage. Was I really descended from an angel? How was that even possible?

I plopped down in a chair and picked up the book Angelo claimed would answer my questions. It hummed, and I immediately dropped it onto the desk again.

Jacques' brows furrowed as he studied me. "Is there anything wrong?"

I hesitated, unsure of how to explain. "The book…it's…it's humming."

A petite woman with long, thick, black hair and deep green eyes came up behind Jacques. She cast an amused gaze over me, and I broke out in goosebumps. "So you're the one everyone's been talking about and why I was dragged here from my home?"

Jacques immediately got out of his chair. "Princess, you should be back in your room."

I blinked. "Princess?"

The woman sat down across from me and rolled her eyes. "Such an exhausting title. They only call me that because I'm Angelo's little sister. Gianna. Hi."

Angelo had a sister? I guess vampires could have an actual family. I thought they just called each other that, but as I stared at her, I saw her eyes were the same shape and color as his. She was definitely related to him. I wondered if he had other family members that were vampires too.

Jacques frowned. "Princess, you really should?—"

She flicked her hand, as if accustomed to getting her way. "Leave us, Jacques. I want to get to know her."

He let out an exasperated sigh. "I will not be far away."

It amazed me that a big, muscular Mafia soldier obeyed such a petite woman. She definitely wielded her power well.

"Whatever," she mumbled pettishly. She glanced down at the book in front of me. "Did I hear you say this book was humming? I'm not surprised. Some of the books are magical, and you need to be careful handling them. However, Angelo wouldn't have given you anything to read unless he thought it was safe."

I stared nervously at The Celestial Hierarchy: A Compendium on Angels , not sure if I should pick it up again. It was bound in a supple, midnight-blue leather that had felt warm to the touch, as if holding the faintest pulse of life. The cover was embossed with intricate silver filigree images of various angels in flight, their forms shimmering with an ethereal glow when caught by the light.

She laughed. "Don't worry. It won't bite. Your name is Serenity, isn't it? And you're the one who healed Enzo?"

I nodded. "Yes," I whispered quietly.

She gave me a sympathetic look. "You don't have to fear me, Serenity. I'm a prisoner here, same as you."

I tilted my head in shocked confusion. "What?"

Her lips curled into a sardonic smile, revealing pointed fangs. "Oh yes. When you're the sister of a Mafia king, you're always well-guarded. Sometimes too well-guarded. We have many enemies, and my brother doesn't trust anyone to protect me, especially not my husband."

I furrowed my brows. "Why not?"

"Because Dimitri is a born vampire, and therefore, according to my dear brother, not as powerful as made vampires like us."

"Born…made… What does that mean, exactly?" Maybe I could find out something that would eventually help me escape from here.

"Really? No one has told you about our world? So typical of my brother, Mr. Man-who-keeps-secrets. Okay—there are two kinds of vampires—made vampires, meaning we were born human but then turned at some point, and then born vampires, which is…well, just how it sounds. Made vampires are practically immortal, and we become even more powerful as we age. We're much stronger than the born vampires."

"So you're a?— "

"Made vampire, yes. My brother turned me centuries ago." There was a hint of resentment in her tone that made me want to ask about that, but after seeing how Jacques had reacted to her, I didn't think questioning the princess was a good idea.

She narrowed her eyes. "However, my husband isn't, so my wonderful brother made him his chauffeur, even though Dimitri really is powerful in his own right."

If I wasn't so terrified, I would have laughed, but Gianna didn't seem to have a sense of humor about her husband being treated like a servant, so I kept quiet.

Luckily, Gianna changed the subject as she glanced around the room. "I take it you're doing research." She studied me. "Do you know what you are?"

"I'm…human?" I ventured, still not ready to believe I was anything else.

"Your parents were both human, then?"

"Yes…well…I don't know. I'm not quite sure what to believe." I just met this woman, and here she was asking me all kinds of personal questions. Normally, I shied away from those, especially ones about my father. It was too painful to talk about him. I glanced down at the way I was wringing my hands. It was something I always did when I got nervous.

She leaned back in her chair as if she was conducting a job interview. "Tell me about your parents."

I didn't want to share my whole torrid family history with her, so I just told her the basics. Hopefully, it would appease her and keep her from attacking me. "I never knew my biological father. He left before I was born. Then Mom married my stepfather, and he's the only father I've ever known."

Silence fell over us like a blanket. I opened the book, not wanting to dive into family history with Gianna any further.

I dug into the book, hoping the interrogation had stopped. I had just finished reading a chapter when she suddenly spoke, breaking my concentration.

"Is your stepfather the one that gave you the marks on your lower back?" Her voice rippled with genuine kindness…kindness I wasn't ready to accept yet.

I gritted my teeth. "God, is there a flipping newsletter circulating about my body? Remind me never to tell Elena any secrets." Bitterness laced my words.

What was I thinking? Elena and Gianna were both vampires and could easily kill me for being disrespectful. I needed to keep my anger in check better.

But Gianna didn't seem to get annoyed. Instead, she gave me an understanding smile like my mother used to do when I would get mad. "Don't be angry. Elena is worried about you, that's all. She's a real mother hen and wants to protect all her chicks, even my husband."

"And now I'm another one of those chicks?" A sharp edge crept into my voice like an icicle shattering on the pavement.

She gave me a warm smile. "I'm afraid so." She stretched her arms over her head. "Do you want some help researching?"

She seemed kind, but then again, she was Angelo's sister. "You would help me?"

"Sure, I don't have anything else to do except file my nails for the millionth time." She came over and looked at my book. "Angels, huh? What specifically about them?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe healing powers. Unless you have a better idea?"

She shrugged as she got up and brushed her fingers over the spines of the book. "No, that sounds like a good place to start." She pulled out another angel book and returned to her spot across from me. "Anything specific?"

"Start with just healing in general. Maybe there's a particular type of angel that heals. Oh! Or one that has a penchant for loving humans and leaving a trail of broken hearts—an angel deadbeat dad."

"That narrows it down some, but not much. Just so you know."

"Great," I mumbled. "It's going to be like looking for an earring in the dark."

I flipped to a page filled with meticulously written longhand, each letter a work of art in itself. The words were inked in a deep, rich hue that shifted and changed depending on the angle of light. Turning each leaf, I was struck by the beauty of the stunning hand-painted illustrations adorning the margins, each piece a velvety canvas come to life that pulled me deeper into this world. I couldn't believe someone had created this entire masterpiece by hand.

As I turned the pages, memories of Sunday school started flooding back. The words on the page were reminiscent of sermons I had heard as a child—stories of angels watching over us, delivering messages from God, and battling demons in the spiritual realm. But this book delved far beyond that and into angelic lore, revealing a complex society with its own hierarchy and a purpose beyond just guiding humans toward salvation or, conversely, passing judgment. My eyes were glued to the pages as I soaked up every detail.

Angelo had definitely left me breadcrumbs on who I was, and I was eager to learn.

Every once in a while, I heard Gianna turning page after page, almost as if she were speedreading.

After what might have been a couple of hours, she glanced up at me. "I'm curious…if your father was an angel, how did your mom end up with this stepfather who obviously hurt you?" Her soft voice echoed with concern, as if she'd been pondering it ever since we discussed my back.

"I don't know." Or I didn't—until I had my dream in which Mom had claimed she married Freaky Freddie for stability. Freddie must have really pulled the wool over her eyes. He was nothing but a monster, and the memory of what he did to me still haunted me.

I returned to poring over the ancient text, my eyes widening in horror at the intricate drawings of winged creatures with twisted horns and sharp fangs. The hairs on my arms prickled as I read about their deceptive ways and their desire to corrupt humans. A knot formed in my stomach as the realization slowly dawned on me—these were not just mythical beings, but actual, living creatures. And some angels fell from grace and became evil demons.

Gianna gazed at me and put her finger underneath her chin. "You found something that troubles you?"

I glanced up from the book. "What?" I squirmed in my seat. "No, nothing. "

Her lips parted, revealing her fangs as she chuckled quietly. "Your face is pale, and I can hear your rapid heartbeat. Tell me. What's wrong?"

"I'm just…excited about what I found," I lied, and immediately returned to my book. How could I tell her that my father might possibly be a demon? That would make me twice as evil as any vampire.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Gianna studying me, but then she shrugged and returned to her reading.

What had Mom been keeping from me? She'd always been evasive about my real father. Did my father have horns and dance around with a pitchfork? Demons were evil, and I didn't want to end up like my deadbeat dad in Hell, chanting ‘Satan is our pal.'

And what about Freddie, my stepfather who couldn't keep a secret to save his life—did he know the truth about my father? Is that why Mom chose him? Because in my book, he was just as evil as any demon father. My stomach turned sick at the thought.

I heard murmured voices, but I was so engrossed and horrified by what I was reading I ignored them.

"Enzo!" Gianna snapped her book shut. "You look so much better."

Startled, I jumped in my seat, banging my knees against the table. My heart beat a rapid rhythm in my chest as I fought to maintain a calm demeanor in the face of Enzo's piercing gaze.

"Surviving, is more like it." Enzo leaned against the door frame with one hand on it, as if to prop himself up for support .

Gianna got up and hugged him briefly. "I'm so glad."

I thought I saw tears in the corners of her eyes, and her voice cracked as if she cared about him. Enzo was definitely handsome, and I wondered briefly if maybe they had a thing before she met her husband. Somehow, I didn't think Angelo would allow that. Maybe they were more like brother and sister?

He stumbled over to a chair, his movements unsteady and uncertain.

Gianna clasped his arm to prevent him from falling.

He gritted his teeth. "I can do it."

She glared at him as she helped him sit down. "No, let me help you, Enzo."

He fixed me with a look. "Serenity, can we talk alone?" he asked, his voice laced with vulnerability.

"I'll leave you be." Gianna slid out the door.

I almost wanted to beg her to stay, but I didn't want to get on the bad side of Angelo's enforcer. With my luck, I'd jump straight to the top of his hit list.