Chapter 20

Chapter

Twenty

S erenity

Balthazar left to get Shannon and me food, as if we were guests at some twisted dinner party rather than his prisoners. I sat on the floor next to Shannon and leaned back against the wall. I doubted she would even be able to eat. My own stomach churned like a storm-tossed sea, each revelation making me sicker. He was methodically dismantling my world piece by precious piece, stripping everything away with surgical precision.

Petar Dragan wanted to be king. The thought sent ice through my veins, because the only one way that crown would ever touch his head would be through Angelo’s death. Raw panic clawed up my throat at the mere thought of losing him. He wasn’t perfect—he could be cruel, possessive, and dangerous—but he had become my anchor in this supernatural storm. In his arms, I felt invincible. Protected. Like all the darkness in New Orleans couldn’t touch me as long as he held me.

But it wasn’t just Angelo. Balthazar’s poisonous influence had also reached Steve DuPont—my protector, my brother in all but blood. Now he moved like a marionette on demon strings, his eyes black and empty where warmth once used to live. Trapped in some hellish trance, dancing to Balthazar’s music.

The pieces clicked together with horrible clarity. That’s why Angelo’s compulsion had failed. He couldn’t break what was already broken. Balthazar had gotten there first, turning Steve into something worse than dead—a puppet who helped murder the very people he once would have died protecting.

Steve, who’d once growled at anyone who looked at Joy wrong. Steve, who’d been our shield, our protector. The thought turned my stomach to ice. If Balthazar ordered him to hurt Joy...to make her the demon’s next toy...

I had to get out of here.

Angelo, please find me. Please. Find Joy. Save her.

Shannon slumped against the wall beside me, more corpse than girl. Tears cut clean trails through the blood on her cheeks, the only pure thing left in this nightmare. I watched every shallow breath she took like a hawk, terrified that it might be her last.

Please hurry, Angelo. Before there’s nothing left of us to save.

My hand trembled as I reached toward her. I could heal her—but Balthazar would only hurt her again. And again. Still, my fingers stretched out, power gathering at my fingertips. What kind of healer was I, if I allowed her to suffer?

I placed my hand on her skin, searching for that familiar spark of power, but it was like trying to draw water from a dried-up well. My healing powers had abandoned me when I most needed them.

A sudden crash came like thunder, shaking dust from the ceiling—something massive had just hit the building with devastating force. Footsteps pounded down the hall, a stampede of panic punctuated by screams that froze my blood, each cry cutting off more suddenly than the last.

My heart slammed against my ribs as I leaped to my feet. Whatever was coming, we absolutely could not be here when it arrived.

Shannon dissolved into gulping sobs, her entire body trembling. She looked so small, so fragile—Balthazar’s latest broken toy.

I rushed to her, grabbing her arm. “Something’s happening. We need to get out of here.” Now. Before whatever’s causing those screams finds us.

She sagged against my shoulder, dead weight. “I can’t. I’m too weak.” Her voice faded away.

“No, you’re not.” I hauled her upright, ignoring her whimpers of pain. Gentle wasn’t going to keep us alive. “Come on—walk.”

“Where?” Her arm swept over the windowless room in a gesture of defeat. “There’s no place to go.”

Another crash, closer now. The screams had taken on a wet, gurgling quality that turned my stomach. Metal clashed against metal, punctuated by sounds of bodies hitting walls—heavy thuds that spoke of broken bones and worse.

My eyes darted around our prison. No windows. The door might as well be a death sentence. There—the ventilation grate. Old buildings like this always had oversized ductwork. It might be wide enough.

I lowered Shannon to the floor, her confusion clear. She clung to my leg like a cat, her fingers trembling where they gripped my jeans. “What are you doing? Don’t leave me. Please.” Her skin was paper-white where Balthazar had fed, blue veins stark against her neck.

I squared up to the vent, channeling all the self-defense lessons Steve had ever taught me into my every kick. The hardwood creaked beneath me.

“Trying—”

BANG

“to find?—”

CRASH

“a way?—”

CRACK

“Out of here!”

Each impact sent pain shooting up my leg, but the metal was beginning to give.

The grate finally tore free with a shriek of protest, sending me stumbling backwards. My heart slammed against my ribs—part terror, part wild triumph. Stale air rushed out, bringing with it the musty promise of escape. I braced myself against the wall, legs trembling from the repeated kicks, my right shin screaming where I’d connected with the metal. Worth it. Every bruise would be worth it.

The tunnel was narrow, but it would do. One person at a time, at crawling speed—not ideal, but infinitely better than whatever horrors were closing in behind us. Those screams were definitely getting closer, although on the plus side the confined space would slow down anything bigger than us. I flexed my foot, ignoring the throb. We’d have to move fast, injury or no injury. Whatever was coming down that hall, whatever was causing those screams—it would have to catch us first.

“You first.” I grabbed Shannon’s arm and shoved her toward the vent opening. The screams outside were getting closer.

“I can’t.” Her voice quivered, exhaustion and terror warring in her eyes.

“Those things out there could be more demons. Do you want them to find you?” The words came out harsh, but fear had stolen any softness from my voice. “What do you think they’ll do to you if Balthazar hands you over to them?”

Terror flashed across Shannon’s face. She glanced over her shoulder at the door, then back at the dark, gaping maw of the vent. The hope of survival finally won. She dragged herself forward with trembling arms, each movement punctuated by soft groans of pain. I crawled in after her, the cold metal pressing against my palms, my knees. The vent felt smaller now that I was inside it, the walls too close, the air too thin.

“Faster,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady. “Please, Shannon, try to go a little faster.”

The door exploded inward with a sound like a thunderclap. Wood splintered, metal shrieked, and my heart stopped.

“Serenity?” Balthazar’s voice rolled through the room like black smoke. “Where are you?”

My whole body locked up, ice flooding my veins. That voice. That falsely tender voice that promised such beautiful things only to ripped people apart. My lungs seized up, and I had to press my fist against my mouth to contain the panicked sound trying to escape. Sweat slicked my palms against the metal vent, and for a horrible moment, I was back in his grasp, drowning in sulfur-sweet darkness.

No. No. Keep moving. Don’t let him in your head.

Shannon froze ahead of me and let out a soft, muffled cry. Her entire body started trembling, her ankle quivering under my warning grip. I could hear her ragged breathing echoing in the metal tunnel, too loud, too fast. She was hyperventilating.

Through the darkness, I saw her shoulders hunch, making herself smaller and more vulnerable—exactly what he wanted. His voracious feeding had left her too weak.

I could picture him standing there, probably still wearing that pleasant smile, Shannon’s blood dried on his chin. Surveying the empty room. Seeing the broken vent. Knowing exactly where his prey had gone.

Crawl. Crawl. Crawl. My mind screamed at my body to move faster, but there was nowhere to go but forward, nowhere to hide in this metal tunnel. If he reached in with those long arms...

Shannon’s harsh breathing echoed off the metal walls. My own pulse roared in my ears. Behind us, silence, the kind that comes before a storm. Then?—

“How did you get in here?” Balthazar’s angry voice echoed through the vent.

“Where is she?” The voice sounded exactly like Angelo’s, that perfect mix of ice and rage. My heart clenched painfully. Balthazar was such a master of deception. This could easily be another of his games, another way to toy with my emotions, a trick to make me turn back.

“Someplace you’ll never find her. She’s mine.”

The words bounced off the metal walls, trapping me in their threat. my stomach lurched, hope crumbling to ash in my mouth. I pressed my back against the cold vent, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from this horrible uncertainty. This was exactly how Balthazar operated—letting you believe rescue was at hand before tearing all hope away. But god, it sounded so like Angelo, that protective rage I’d trusted with my life before.

My fingers scraped against the metal as I fought to keep myself from coming apart. One wrong choice in this metal coffin and Shannon and I were both dead.