Chapter 1

Chapter

One

A ngelo

The leather seat creaked as I slumped back. “The last thing I wanted to do was disappoint Serenity,” I grumbled to Enzo. Jazz seeped in through the limousine’s windows as the heady scent of blood mingled with the lingering aroma of bourbon in the air—the unmistakable essence of New Orleans at night.

Dimitri Dragan—my driver and brand-new brother-in-law—caught my eye in the rearview mirror, a sardonic smirk on his lips. “Trouble in paradise, Your Majesty?” he quipped. “Or just another night failing to find a certain human girl in a city full of them?”

I scowled at him. “Just drive, Dimitri. Your ‘wit’ is as unwelcome as it is unimpressive.”

He chuckled, but I caught the brief flicker of genuine concern in his eyes. As my sister’s husband…and a royal pain in my ass…Dimitri never missed an opportunity to push my buttons. Yet despite being a born vampire—typically a weakness in my eyes—he’d proven himself time and again, even taking on a powerful wolf who threatened my sister, dispatching the beast with a mix of charm and brutality that was uniquely him.

In other words, his dedication had earned him my grudging respect, if not my full trust.

“Joking aside, Angelo,” Dimitri said, his tone turning somber, “we need to find Joy. For Serenity’s sake...for everyone’s.”

Serenity. My Nephilim. The prize I’d won at auction and now refused to let go. Her celestial blood sang to me, a siren’s call I couldn’t resist. But she was more than just a captivating creature—she was our salvation. Her powers had healed the Aeternum Stone, which had been fading. If it had gone completely dark, Dracula would have found us and wiped out not only me, but my entire family for not following his rules. The stone was the only thing that kept him at bay, a shield against our enemy.

My mind filled with images of Serenity anxiously pacing the halls of Crescent Manor, our mansion overlooking Bourbon Street, waiting for news about her best friend Joy DuPont who’d vanished into the labyrinthine streets of the French Quarter without a trace. Serenity’s anguish clawed at my gut, fueling a primal urge to hunt down Joy and prove my unwavering devotion to my mate.

Enzo Di Salvo, my most trusted enforcer, ran his piercing gaze over me. His handsome face held a flicker of guilt. “You mustn’t blame yourself for her disappearance, Angelo. I was the one who was supposed to be watching her.” He looked out the window at the raucous crowds on Bourbon Street, his jaw clenched. “If it hadn’t been for that damn explosion at Crimson Stakes...”

Enzo had been following Joy as she passed out flyers about Serenity near my casino Crimson Stakes when an explosion had occurred. He had raced into the casino to find out what happened, and while his back was turned, Joy had disappeared without a trace.

I ran my tongue over my fangs, feeling the pulse of the city outside. Serenity might not have chosen this life with me, but she was now integral to our survival. The delicate balance of power, life, and death rested on her slender shoulders.

“We’ll find Joy,” I said, my voice low. My hand instinctively moved to the hilt of my sword concealed beneath my coat. “And whoever turns out to be responsible will learn why crossing the Santi family is a death sentence—one delivered as inevitably as the tide of the Mississippi.”

Frustration rolled through me. As king of New Orleans’ vampire underworld I commanded legions of immortal warriors and controlled a vast criminal empire that stretched from the Mississippi to the bayous. Yet I couldn’t find one missing girl? My failure choked me like the suffocating humidity of a Louisiana summer night.

Dimitri stopped the limousine at the back of Crescent Manor and opened the door for Enzo and me. He always let us out at the rear entrance of the antebellum mansion, away from curious eyes on Bourbon Street. I didn’t like my movements being tracked.

I approached the door, my heart heavy. Serenity had been frantic for days, pleading with me to find Joy. I’d pursued every lead, even following a false trail to Simon Cartier’s auction house at Ravenwood Estates. Now, returning empty-handed, I braced myself for Serenity’s disappointment.

I reached for the doorknob, expecting her to burst out, eyes wide, bombarding me with questions about her best friend’s whereabouts—the best friend she feared had been sold into slavery.

Instead, the door creaked open and silence whisked over me like a cold wind.

No running footsteps.

No anxious face peering around the corner.

No excited voice calling out for news.

The quiet was oppressive, the kind of silence that made your skin prickle and your shoulders tighten. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. Serenity’s absence screamed louder than any words could. As I stepped inside, the silence seemed to thicken, filling the air with almost tangible dread.

Enzo glanced over at me, his lips pressed to a worried line. His eyes asked the question we were both thinking: Where was Petar? He was supposed to be guarding Serenity. His absence set off alarm bells in my head.

As I stood there my nostrils flared, instinctively seeking out information. The familiar scents of vampire and Nephilim lingered, but something was off. I strained my ears, but the only sound was the thunderous pounding of my own heart.

Step by cautious step, I entered the house. My heightened vampire senses worked overtime. No wolf. No human. No Fae. The side hallway loomed before me, a tunnel of growing dread. My movements were measured, silent. I was a hunter now, stalking an unknown threat in my own home.

Then it hit me. Metallic. Unmistakable.

Blood.

I signaled to Enzo to cover the rear as we moved silently through the mansion. Years of survival had taught me never to announce my presence to my enemies.

Enzo nodded, drawing his blade with a whisper of steel. His eyes scanned every corner, every shadow. “I don’t like this, boss,” he muttered under his breath.

I didn’t either, but I kept it to myself.

I worked to keep my face impassive, but beneath my stony mask panic was rushing through me like wildfire. My fingers twitched, longing to tear through the mansion, to call out her name, to find her safe and unharmed. But I knew better. Any display of emotion, any hint of weakness, could be fatal—not just for me, but for Serenity and everyone under my protection.

The scent of blood grew stronger as I moved deeper into the house. Where was Serenity? Was Petar protecting her? If anything had happened to her, he would pay with his life.

Soft footsteps approached from behind, and Dimitri joined us. His usual smirk was gone, replaced with an uneasy look that matched our own. A glint of fear flashed in his eyes, no doubt at the idea of losing my sister. She was his life, just like Serenity was mine.

A soft whispered moan reached us, like thunder in the oppressive silence.

“Dimitri…”

Gianna!

Dimitri raced past us, drawing on his vampire speed. He could be heading into a trap, but no one could tell him anything—not when it concerned Gianna.

“Dimitri, wait!” I hissed. Too late. He had already disappeared into the depths of the mansion.

I exchanged a quick glance with Enzo, seeing my own tension mirrored in his eyes. We had to move fast. This might indeed be a trap, but we couldn’t let Dimitri walk into it alone.

As I cautiously followed Dimitri’s path, my thoughts were a chaotic mix of concern for Gianna, fear for Serenity, and a growing dread of what we might find. The scent of blood grew more pronounced with every step.

Enzo and I entered the living room. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, mixed with the lingering aroma of bacon and Elena’s famous beignets—a bizarre contrast of homely comfort and violent intrusion that made my stomach churn.

A vase lay shattered on the floor, jagged shards glinting in the dim light filtering through the heavy curtains. Water from the vase had pooled on the floor, seeping into the hardwood and leaving a dark stain that spread like a sinister omen. But I was sure that wasn’t what hurt my sister. Hitting her over the head with a vase wouldn’t take her out.

No, something else did this. The air felt heavy, oppressive, carrying an undercurrent of...dark magic? The hairs on the back of my neck stood up when I tasted the acrid remnants of powerful, malevolent energy on my tongue.

Dimitri was sitting on the antique leather couch, cradling Gianna in his arms. The crimson of her blood stood out starkly against the rich, dark leather as it slipped down the side of her temple. The cocky grin on his face that I’d grown so accustomed to had vanished entirely, leaving only an uneasiness that matched our own.

He gently pushed back her hair, his fingers trembling slightly—whether from fear or fury, I couldn’t have said. “Who did this to you?” His voice was low, dangerous, so different from his usual sarcastic tone. The fury vibrating through his words almost charged the very air around us.

His eyes burned with a cold fire as they flicked up to meet mine. “Whoever did this is dead,” he remarked to me in a lower tone, his voice deceptively calm. “They just don’t know it yet.”

“I... I’m not sure,” Gianna murmured, her usually melodious voice now weak and uncertain. “Elena was making breakfast, then she cried out. I came to investigate and… Someone hit me.” She rubbed her head, wincing.

I scanned the living room, my eyes darting from the overturned side table to the paintings hanging askew on the wall. The grandfather clock in the corner had stopped, its pendulum frozen mid-swing. It was as if time itself had paused in this moment of crisis. “Where is Serenity?” I asked, unable to keep the note of desperation from my voice.

Gianna gave me a dazed look, her usually sharp eyes unfocused. “I don’t know,” she whispered, each word seeming to cost her effort.

Dimitri’s head snapped up, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine. “Let me guess. Daddy Dearest is MIA. How positively shocking.” He arched an eyebrow, his tone biting. “I thought guarding damsels in distress was his specialty. But I guess I was wrong.”

Cold anger gripped me. My fangs lengthened, aching to rip someone’s throat out. “If you’re right and Petar has betrayed me, he’ll learn a new definition of pain.”

I turned to Enzo, keeping my face a mask of cold determination despite the fear clawing at my insides. “Search the house,” I ordered, my voice quiet. “They could still be here.”

A floorboard creaked upstairs.

In that instant, my predatory instincts took over. I didn’t hesitate, didn’t waste time with caution or stealth. Whoever was up there had made a fatal mistake.

“Secure the perimeter,” I snarled to Enzo lethally.

Then I moved.

My vampire speed transformed the world into a blur. One moment I was at the foot of the stairs, the next I was on the landing, my preternatural senses scanning for threats. The scent of blood was stronger here, stoking a dangerous mix of fury and hunger within me.

I refused to skulk around my own home like prey. I was the predator here. The vampire king. And someone had dared to intrude on my territory and threaten what was mine.

My fangs yearned for blood as I stalked down the hallway, every muscle coiled, prepared to unleash devastating violence. Whoever was responsible for this would learn the true meaning of fear. They would beg for death long before I granted it.

But first, to find Serenity. And God help anyone who might have dared harm her.