Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Serenity

Still sitting frozen in the dining room chair, I stared at the door through which Angelo had disappeared with some of his men. My heart raced as I tried to process the shocking revelation. Someone was out to destroy Angelo, or at least someone in the Santi family. Was this over me, or something else? The thought of being the cause of this danger filled me with guilt and dread. First the killer had wounded Enzo, and now he…or she…had brutally killed Jacques.

I could practically feel their cold breath on the back of my neck, and I shivered, breaking out in a rash of goosebumps. A war was brewing, and I was caught square in the middle of the crossfire. I had to do something to stop it, but what could I do against such a ruthless and determined enemy ?

Detective DuPont! Maybe he could help me. If I could get word to him, perhaps he could track down whoever was attacking Angelo's men in an attempt to get to me. He could also get me out of this den of vipers.

Poor Elena had fallen asleep with her head on the table, and her soft snores filled the room.

Enzo slid into a chair next to me. He picked up my cold shaking hand. "Serenity?" His soft tone wrapped my name in a blanket of concern.

I shifted my worried gaze from the door to Enzo.

"You'll be all right. I promise I won't let anyone hurt you."

My numb mind returned to the grisly scene of poor Jacques' murder. I searched Enzo's eyes, wondering if he would tell me the truth or only give bits and pieces of what I needed to know.

"Enzo…What's a Nephilim?" My voice cracked with fear.

Please not a demon Please not a demon Please not a demon

Enzo's eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped open in astonishment. "You didn't discover that in any of the books that Angelo let you read?" His tone said he couldn't believe I was so na?ve.

I sighed, thinking of the information I had uncovered. Information I never wanted to know. "They talked of fallen angels…"

Enzo's face softened. "Fallen angels are demons. They were once angels, but they were cast out of from Heaven. "

I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the answer to my next question. "Is that what a Nephilim is?"

Enzo hesitated, as if struggling between telling me the truth and protecting me from it. But I needed to know, for my own safety and sanity.

Gianna's gaze bored into mine, her words coming fast and sharp like arrows aimed directly at the heart of the truth. "Nephilim are born from the union between an angel and a human."

The heavy dread on my chest felt heavier with every word. "But some are…?" I trailed off, needing to confirm my suspicions yet terrified to hear the answer.

"Yes," Enzo confirmed solemnly. "Some Nephilim are born from fallen angels."

"You mean demons," I whispered. That meant my father could be buddies with Satan himself. It seemed likely, since he had left my mom and me high and dry. That didn't seem like something an angel would do, but based on what I had read, demons wouldn't think twice about abandoning their young.

Gianna flashed Enzo a frown. "Not all of them, Serenity. Your father could be an Archangel for all we know."

"And if my father was an Archangel, he would be good?" I glanced at their faces.

Enzo grimaced. "Not necessarily."

Gianna glared daggers at Enzo. "We don't know what your father was, Serenity, so don't panic. Not yet anyway."

My heart plummeted as my mind connected the dots, hurtling toward a sinister truth. The pieces of this twisted puzzle came together in slow motion, each one bringing me more dread and fear. I couldn't shake off the memory of the dream where my mother had desperately tried to warn me about something. Or stop thinking about all the times she'd evaded my questions as a child. Well, of course. She didn't want to tell me she'd slept with a fallen angel! It wasn't exactly something to be proud of. And now, between my newfound healing powers and Jacques' brutal murder, it all made sense.

I gasped as my vision blurred and my fingers turned numb—the blood draining from my face. I looked at Enzo then at Gianna. "That message written in blood...about the Nephilim…they were talking about me, weren't they? I am the Nephilim." Desperation crept into my voice.

Enzo's expression darkened and he muttered under his breath. "Shit, Angelo's probably going to kill me for this." Then he met my gaze and nodded. "Yes, you're a Nephilim. That's why the others want you."

My head spun as I tried to wrap my brain around his words. My brows crunched into a deep scowl. "And which supernatural do you think murdered Jacques?"

Enzo shrugged. "I don't know. It could have been anybody." His words settled on my shoulders like a heavy cloak, filling me with fear and uncertainty.

"They want to kill me, don't they? Because my father's a demon."

"We don't know that for sure," Enzo warned.

Gianna got out of her chair and clasped my hand. "What we do know is that you're safe here, Serenity. My brother would never let anyone hurt you." She wasn't fooling me. I could hear the troubled note in her voice .

Silence swept around us, stilling my breathing. My lungs seemed to be frozen in time. I couldn't remember how to inhale or exhale. It was as if the knowledge had flown out of my brain.

Enzo shifted in his chair, and it snapped me back to attention. I finally remembered how to breathe and greedily sucked in a gulp of air.

He put his hand on my shoulder. "You look like you could use a drink."

I met his gaze, my heart heavy with the weight of the night's events. "I feel like I've aged a decade in the past few hours. Yes, that might help, thank you."

It was probably stupid to have a drink around vampires and when something was after me, but right now, I needed something to distract me from everything that was going on. Normally, I would work out or go for a run, but that was out of the question right now.

Gianna sat next to me and smiled wryly. "I don't know about her, but I definitely could."

Drinking after getting bad news was following Freddie's example, but honestly, right now, I didn't care. I needed to chase away the shock of finding out my father could be a demon. That was a million times worse than having Freddie as a stepfather.

Enzo walked over to the bar, moving silently in a way that only a vampire could. He picked up a bottle of red wine and filled three large, ornate goblets, then handed one each to me and Gianna. I swirled the deep crimson liquid around, its rich aroma wafting up to my nostrils.

I hesitated for a brief moment, wondering if it was wise to accept a drink from a vampire, but the temptation was too strong to resist. I finally found my tiny voice. "If they caught me, do you think they would kill me like they did Jacques?"

He sat beside me again. "Absolutely not. You're too valuable. They need your power. They're desperate for it."

"Great, so they want to unleash a power that never should be released," I murmured bitterly. Demonic powers wouldn't make anyone a superhero.

Gianna looked down at my shaking hand as I kept swirling the wine in my glass, then at my face full of fear and dread. "Drink, Serenity. The wine will calm you."

I numbly did as she asked, unsure if I was doing it on my own volition or if she was compelling me. The minute the wine crossed my pinched lips, it was as if a great thirst came over me. I wanted to forget everything I had learned. Forget I had a price on my head. Forget my dad wasn't just a deadbeat dad, but a fucking demon deadbeat dad.

I downed the glass and handed it back to him. "Another one."

He cocked his eyebrow but didn't argue.

The second glass went down even faster than the first. Usually I drank wine slowly since it went straight to my head, but not tonight.

He pointed to my empty glass. "You're going to get sloshed if you keep drinking like that."

I laughed softly. "That's the idea. I don't want to remember anything. I want another one, right now."

He took the goblet from my shaking hand. "I don't think that's a good idea. "

I lifted my chin defiantly. "Do it, or I'll tell Angelo you touched me."

Gianna laughed and held up her own glass in a toast. "I like her. I like her a lot."

Enzo's face paled, his hands gripping the edge of the table as he stared at me in disbelief. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he might physically lash out at me. But instead, he stood up abruptly and stormed into the kitchen, returning with another glass of wine which he thrust into my hand.

He glared at Gianna. "You compelled her to drink, didn't you?"

Gianna shrugged. "She needs to forget, Enzo."

"Angelo will not like this," he growled.

I should have been furious at Gianna, making me drink when normally I wouldn't, but she was right. Forgetfulness was a gift right now. I smiled smugly at him, then quickly drained the glass just like the previous two. Too quickly. The room spun, and my eyes went in and out of focus. I stood up, knocking over my chair in the process.

"I wanna go t'my room," I slurred.

Enzo clasped my arm. "If he catches me touching her, it's your fucking fault, Gianna."

Gianna took another sip. "Don't worry, enforcer. Your secret's safe with me."

He grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the dining room, sending me stumbling into the hallway. The next thing I knew, I was being dragged down the hall and into my bedroom. My feet barely touched the ground as he threw me onto my bed with a swift, supernatural speed .

I collapsed onto my bed, and Enzo covered me with a blanket. I shut my eyes, trying to block out the spinning room, Jacques' murder, the fact that I was a fucking Nephilim, and most of all that my dad the angel had given me this gift—or maybe it was curse—and now I was on every supernatural's most wanted list.

As I passed out, the last thought I had was that I had to protect myself or I would never survive…

Joy parked the car in front of my house. "Are you going to be okay? You can spend the night at my house again if you want."

I sighed and laid my head against the back of the seat, staring at the small house. "Thanks, but I can't leave Sammie alone with him."

Mom had gotten the yellow lab for me when I was three. He was the sweetest dog, but he was ten years old now and not doing well. He couldn't get up the stairs and peed when he was scared these days, which, with Freddie around, was all the time. Freddie was less than kind to my buddy. Another reason why I hated the man.

"Look, if you're going to stay in this hellhole, Steve gave me something to pass along to you."

Steve was her older half brother, and he was in a street gang. Ever since he found out that DuPont wasn't actually his father, he'd been on a rebellious kick, lashing out at the world in his efforts to find a sense of identity and belonging. The betrayal had driven him to find a new family, one that accepted him without question, even if it meant living a life of crime. He'd taught me how to fight with a knife, insisting that I needed to know how to defend myself in a world that was full of lies and deception.

Joy reached over and opened the glove box. "Here." She pulled out a six-inch switchblade and handed it to me.

I frowned. "Joy, seriously? Won't your father be mad?"

She scoffed. "Since when has Dad approved of anything Steve's doing these days or the company he keeps?" Her sarcastic laughter died away, and she nudged me in the ribs. "You don't want to piss Steve off, do you? Take it."

I almost argued that I knew Steve would never hurt me. He thought of me as another kid sister.

But things with Freddie had been getting worse…

I took the switchblade and hefted it. It felt right in my hand. "Tell Steve thanks. Even though I don't really think I'll have to use it."

She gave me a doubtful look. "I hope you're right."

I slipped the blade into the pocket of my school uniform. "I know I'm right."

I got out of the car and headed toward the darkened house. Freddie must be out drinking and gambling again. I opened the door, excitedly listening for Sammie clicking his nails across the hardwood floor to welcome me home, wagging his tail.

I was greeted with silence.

That wasn't like him.

I clapped my hands. "Sammie? Sammie? Come here, boy."

The lights whipped on, and I saw Freddie standing in the middle of the living room holding a bottle of tequila. His long hair was pulled back into a greasy ponytail. When he first met Mom, he'd been handsome, but now…now he was the type of guy you'd cross the street to avoid.

He cast his lecherous gaze over me and sneered. "Y' smell like burg'rs an' onions." He was slurring his words so badly I could barely understand him.

I wrinkled my nose. He stunk like four days' worth of barf. I headed toward the back door to let poor Sammie in.

He snagged my arm. "Yer mangy dog ain' here. Had 'im put down after 'e pissed all over the kitchen floor agin."

His words hit me like a punch in the gut. I couldn't move, couldn't even breathe as the reality of what he'd done sank in.

His disgusting mouth came crashing down on mine, his stale breath making me gag. I turned my head desperately, trying to break away from his unwanted kiss, but he grabbed my chin roughly, forcing me to face him. His grip bruised my flesh as his fingers dug into me.

With a brutal shove, he slammed me up against the wall, knocking the wind out of me. Pain exploded through the back of my head and stars danced in my vision. He pinned my body with his own, his weight crushing me, making it hard to breathe. I could feel his arousal pressing against me, and revulsion churned in my stomach.

I struggled against him, trying to push him away, but he was too strong. His hands roamed all over my body, groping and pawing at me, his touch making my skin crawl. Tears stung my eyes as panic and disgust overwhelmed me. I wanted to scream, but fear had my voice trapped in my throat.

He leaned in closer, his hot, rancid breath washing over my face as he whispered disgusting things in my ear. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the horror of what was happening, praying for someone, anyone, to save me from this nightmare.

Suddenly, I remembered what Joy had taught me and kneed Freddie as hard as I could in the nuts.

He swore, stumbled, and loosened his grip long enough for me to break away. I grabbed the blade and flicked it open.

I gritted my teeth and, holding the blade how Steve had taught me—firmly but not too tight—I took a balanced stance. "Stay away from me, you fucker."

And then Freddie lunged…