Chapter 2

Chapter

Two

S erenity

The dream of Angelo melted away from me…

My eyes fluttered open, and panic immediately gripped my chest when I found myself on a strange bed in an unfamiliar room. “Not again,” I whispered, my voice trembling with both pain and fear. Memories of waking up at Crescent Manor after Angelo bought me at the auction flooded back, intensifying my anxiety. At least this time I still had my red sundress on, I realized. It was something.

A horrible headache pounded between my temples. I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to will away the pain and the rising tide of dread threatening to engulf me.

As if from a distant dream, the melody of “Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again” from Phantom of the Opera drifted through my mind. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was important, that it was tied to Angelo somehow. The song’s wistful notes mirrored my own longing for him, making my heart ache for his presence. Why did this music make me think of him so strongly?

Where was I? I let out a shaky breath, fighting back tears. That question was important enough, but it paled in comparison to the one that truly mattered: How do I get back to Angelo?

My chest tightened with each passing moment. I wanted to return to him. No, not wanted—needed. He was my home, my safety, my world. And I would crawl through Hell itself to get back to his arms.

“I’m coming, Angelo,” I whispered, my voice filled with determination. “I don’t know how, but I’ll find my way back to you, I swear.”

I forced myself to stand, ignoring the way the room spun around me. Every instinct screamed at me to curl up and wait for rescue, but I refused. Angelo was out there, and nothing—not fear, not pain, not even whoever had taken me—would keep me from him.

On shaky legs, I began to explore my surroundings. Each step was an agonizing battle against my own body. But I pressed on, driven by a desperate, all-consuming need to return to Angelo. I had to get back to him. The alternative was unthinkable.

Where was Petar? Why had he betrayed us? Did he have a death wish? Angelo would kill him! My stomach churned as I recalled how Petar had lured me into that delivery truck with a lie about Joy being wounded inside. He’d claimed Angelo was in there too. How could I have been so stupid to believe him? Guilt and self-recrimination joined the cocktail of emotions swirling inside me.

I had to escape and get back to Angelo, but how? I thought back to when I had believed Joy was dead, and I had thrown objects around telekinetically. Perhaps I could use those powers to could break out of this place?

Heart racing, I eased myself off the bed, wincing at every squeak of the springs.

Please don’t hear me Please don’t hear me.

I focused, reaching for my Nephilim powers, the ones Angelo believed in. They had manifested before—they had to manifest again now.

Tiptoeing across the room carefully, my bare feet silent on the cold floor, I fought the urge to run. I couldn’t afford a single mistake.

Reaching the window, I threw open the plantation shutters with trembling hands, desperate for some indication of where I was, some chance of escape. My heart sank when I was greeted by thick iron bars, their presence a mocking reminder of my captivity. Beyond them, no comforting, familiar sight of the French Quarter met my eyes. Instead, an endless sea of trees stretched out before me, draped in eerie Spanish moss. Tall thistles and plants covered with flowers dotted the landscape.

My eyes were drawn to the colorful blooms. They were a deep, majestic purple, like something you’d see adorning a king’s robe. Their beauty seemed out of place in this nightmare.

As the full reality of my situation sank in, a sob caught in my throat. I was alone, trapped, and clearly miles from anything familiar. From Angelo. Each thought of him sent a fresh tumult of emotions through me—fear for myself, worry for him, and above all a desperate hope that somehow he would find me, since escaping myself was clearly out of the question.

I sank to the floor beneath the window, hugging my knees to my chest. “Please, Angelo,” I whispered to the empty room. “Please come for me.” Even as I pleaded, a darker fear took root. What if he couldn’t? What if this time I was truly on my own?

The sudden, scraping sound of a key turning in the lock sent my heart racing. I scrambled to my feet, pressing my back against the wall, as if I could somehow disappear into it. The door creaked open agonizingly slowly, each inch revealing more of the figure behind it.

A tall, muscular man with shaggy brown hair stepped into the room. His gray eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto me immediately. I felt naked under his gaze in a way that made my skin crawl. He moved with a predator’s grace, each step deliberate and menacing.

“Ah, Serenity, you’re awake. Good.” His voice was smooth, almost pleasant. Why did that make it all the more terrifying? He bowed slightly. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Gage Bray. You are now my…prisoner.”

The way he said “prisoner” sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn’t just a word; it was a sinister promise of things to come, none of them good.

I squared my shoulders, summoning every ounce of courage I could muster. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I held them back. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, pleased that my voice didn’t give away the fear coursing through my veins.

Gage’s lips curled into a cold smile. He looked at me as if he wanted to devour me, his gaze continuing to roam over my body in a way that made me feel dirty.

“Oh, Serenity…” he purred, taking a step closer. I pressed myself harder against the cold wall, wishing I could melt through it.

“It’s not about what I want from you. It’s about what you represent.” His eyes gleamed with anticipation. “You’re the key to bringing down the mighty Angelo Santi and the arrogant Trystan Hunter.”

The name sent a jolt through me and my breath caught in my throat. “Trystan? The wolf mafia king?” He had tried to buy me at the auction but Angelo had outbid him.

My captor’s eyes shone bright, a gleam in them that made my skin crawl. “Not for long.” His voice dripped with a dark promise.

That’s when I noticed he held a mirror in his hand, and he followed my gaze to it. “This is the Moirai Mirror. Ever heard of it?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Angelo is clearly keeping secrets from you. This mirror has the power to show you both present and future.”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. I flinched away from his touch.

“Don’t touch me,” I spat, surprised by my own vehemence.

Gage chuckled, but it was a sound devoid of real humor. “Hmm. Fiery. I can see why Angelo is so...invested in you.” He stepped back, giving me a little more room, but his presence still dominated the space. “Get comfortable, Serenity. You’re going to be here for a while. And you’ll do as I say, or two friends of yours will die. Look.”

He thrust the mirror at me. I gasped, my heart plummeting at what I saw in it.

Joy’s brother Steve and her father Louis—my protector, and a good friend—sat motionless in a sparse bedroom. Their haunted, vacant stares chilled me to the bone.

“Is this real?” My voice quavered.

Gage’s eyes flashed with cruel delight. “Very real, I promise you.”

“You’re lying,” I spat. Even so, doubt gnawed at me.

Without a word, Gage dropped a silver Celtic cross into my trembling hands. I’d have known it anywhere. It was the one Steve’s dying grandfather had given him. The one he never took off.

My fingers clenched around it, nausea rising. Gage turned to leave, triumph radiating from him in waves.

“Angelo will come for me,” I called out, my voice stronger than I felt. “He’ll save the DuPonts, too. And when he does, you’ll beg for mercy. But you won’t receive it.”

“I don’t think so. Look again.” The mirror rippled. Angelo and Enzo were in the back of a limousine, talking softly. Angelo didn’t look at all upset.

“He doesn’t seem overly concerned to me, Serenity.”

Something wasn’t right. This guy was messing with my head. “Angelo must not realize I’m missing yet. When he does, he’ll tear New Orleans apart to find me.”

Gage paused at the door, looking back with an amused expression. “Oh, I’m counting on that. In fact, I’m looking forward to it.” With that, he was gone, the lock clicking shut ominously behind him.

I slid down the wall to the floor, my legs no longer able to support me. My brave facade crumbled, and all the tears I’d been holding back finally streamed down my face. Angelo would come for me, I knew he would. But as I sat there, alone and afraid, I now wondered: at what cost?

What twisted game was Gage playing? Challenging two mafia kings was madness...unless he had a secret weapon. What power could possibly overshadow Angelo’s?

The answer whispered through my thoughts, freezing my breath: Dracula.

Angelo’s words echoed in my mind: “Dracula wants me dead.” I trembled, terror and rage warring within me. If Dracula himself was involved, we were all in danger beyond imagination, and I was trapped here while Angelo faced this nightmare alone.

Desperation clawed at my insides. I needed out now, so I could get to Angelo and warn him. I wasn’t going to be a damsel in distress.

Angelo’s words echoed in my mind: “Your power is limitless, Serenity.”

I closed my eyes, reaching deep within myself. Remembering the Aeternum Stone, and Angelo’s unwavering belief in me.

At first, nothing. Then—a spark.

Tingling sensations skittered across my skin, raced down my arms, danced along my spine. My breath caught.

“Come on,” I hissed, fingers curling into fists. “Come on!”

The spark ignited. Power surged through me like wildfire in my veins. Every nerve ending crackled with energy. My body felt too small to contain this force.

I gasped, my eyes flying open. The world looked sharper, brighter. I could feel every molecule of air around me.

It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

I turned to the barred window, heart pounding. This was my chance. Possibly my only chance.

“Angelo,” I whispered. “Watch me fly.”

The energy surged. Nothing happened to the bars, but suddenly, heat licked at my back. I spun around, my heart in my throat.

Shitshitshitshit

The quilt on my bed was engulfed in flames, hungry tendrils of fire reaching for the ceiling. Smoke billowed, thick and choking.

“No, no, no!” I coughed, my eyes stinging.

As panic flooded my system, my concentration was broken and my powers slipped away. The warmth drained from my limbs, leaving me cold and shaking. That incredible strength, that sense of invincibility—gone in an instant.

My knees buckled as the last whispers of power faded. I was empty, hollow, utterly drained—and now, helpless in the face of the inferno I’d unleashed.

Noxious smoke filled my lungs. The unbearable heat was closing in from all sides. My eyes darted frantically around the room, searching for an exit that wasn’t there.

What had I done? I’d wanted freedom. Instead, I’d created my own fiery tomb.

The door swung open with a bang. Gage stood there, his eyes widening at the inferno before him.

“What the hell?” he growled. “Fire. FIRE!”

He seized my hand and pulled me out of the smoke-filled room. I twisted, trying to get away, but he was too strong and easily slammed me up against the wall, his hands at my throat. His long fingers squeezed tighter and tighter, cutting off my air.

Tears sprang to my eyes as I batted at his hands, but he didn’t loosen his grip. His gray eyes turned gold, and he released a growl that stopped my heart.

“Were you trying to burn down my home, Nephilim?” he snarled.

I didn’t answer, just kicked and scratched, but it was useless. He shook me violently. “Do not disobey me. Do not resist. I am your master, and you will stay here. If not, the DuPonts die. Remember that.”

As suddenly as he’d grabbed me, he dropped me to the hardwood floor. I fell in a heap, sputtering and gasping for air.

I looked down the empty corridor, wishing I could speed away and escape. But something told me the DuPonts were here, too, and I couldn’t leave them to die. Aside from Angelo, they were my only family.

As I lay there, my throat still burning and my body still aching, despair seized me. It appeared I was only able to control my abilities when Angelo was present. His presence and belief in me gave me confidence, almost like a shot of adrenaline. My feelings bubbled up inside me like a volcano, exploding into frustration. I wanted him so badly.

Tears streamed down my face as I curled myself into a ball on the cold, hard floor. The intensity of my longing for Angelo overwhelmed me. It was more than a desire to feel safe or protected; it was as if a part of me was missing. The void left by his absence left an almost physical ache deep in my bones.

Angelo, where are you?