Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

A ngelo

I was stalking down the hallway toward the bedroom I shared with Serenity, every sense on high alert, when sharp, sudden pain lanced through my skull like a white-hot blade. My vision blurred, the familiar walls almost twisting and warping around me. The familiar scents of the manor—old wood, leather, and a lingering trace of Serenity’s perfume—were suddenly obliterated by the acrid smell of smoke and fear.

I staggered, my usual vampire grace deserting me. I shot out a hand, bracing myself against the wall as my knees threatened to give out, but it did little to steady me.

“Boss?” Enzo’s concerned voice floated up from downstairs, sounding distant and muffled, as if I was underwater.

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog that had descended over my senses. It was incomprehensible. In all my centuries, I’d never experienced anything like this.

I staggered to our bedroom as the smell of smoke grew stronger, suddenly mixed with Serenity’s scent. She was here. Here, and in danger.

I forced another step, fighting the pain that threatened to bring me to my knees. “Enzo!” I snarled. “Up here. Now!”

He appeared in seconds, eyes scanning for threats. “Boss?”

“Smoke,” I growled.

His frown deepened. “I don’t smell anyth?—”

“Serenity’s here,” I cut him off, my voice raw with desperation. “Serenity. I can smell her perfume. It has to be her.”

Another wave of pain hit. I swayed but caught myself. Now was no time for weakness.

“Find her,” I ordered, already moving down the hall. “Now. Search every room. Go!”

My heart, long silent, felt like it might burst. Serenity was close. In danger. And nothing—not this bizarre pain, not any force on Earth—would stop me from saving her.

My hands trembled as I flung open the door and burst into our bedroom, desperately praying to find Serenity waiting for me. But as my eyes darted around the room, my heart sank.

Nothing was out of place.

No smoke.

No Serenity.

Our crimson canopy bed, where we’d shared so many tender moments, was perfectly made. The bookshelves stood like silent sentinels, neatly dusted and every book in place, taunting me with their orderliness. Not a lamp was out of place, not a stick of furniture overturned.

A wave of frustration washed over me. I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to tear the room apart in my desperation to find any trace of her. “Serenity,” I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion. “Where are you?” The thought of her in danger, possibly hurt, made my centuries-old blood run cold.

I took a deep breath, fighting to stay in control, but I could feel my composure slipping. My mind spun with terrifying possibilities, each worse than the last. If the wolves hurt her like they had my sister... A red haze of fury threatened to overtake me as the memory of my sister’s broken body in the alley flashed before my eyes.

My fangs lengthened involuntarily, pricking my lower lip as I allowed the rage bubbling inside me to boil over. The taste of my own blood fueled my rage. I’d skin Trystan alive, hang his hide as a warning to every wolf. And yet the savage thought brought little relief against the fear chewing on my insides.

“Angelo, come quick.” Enzo’s urgent cry shattered my dark fantasies.

I burst from my bedroom, the world blurring as I moved at vampire speed. My beating heart nearly stopped when I saw the woman on the ground at Enzo’s feet.

I skidded to halt. It wasn’t Serenity.

I didn’t know if I should feel relief or frustration. The figure Enzo was bent over in my sister’s room was Elena Moreau, my housekeeper who was almost like a mother to me. I gritted my teeth and my heart clenched as he slowly rolled her onto her back. Her face was pale, a bloody wound on her temple matching Gianna’s. Unconscious. But alive, thank God.

“Take her to her room. Stay with her,” I ordered, moving toward my sister’s and Dimitri’s room, nerves crackling.

Enzo’s voice was tight with tension. “Do you smell that? Something foul.”

“Yeah, I do.” As soon as I crossed the threshold, an oppressive energy swirled around me like smoke, making every hair on my body stand up. The air felt thick, making it difficult to breathe, as if the very atmosphere itself was tainted by something unnatural.

The stench was unmistakable—a mixture of decay and ozone, the telltale scent of dark magic. I’d been around dark forces enough to recognize the reek of evil. As I made my way deeper into the room, the pull became stronger, an invisible current tugging at my senses.

My eyes were drawn to a drawer left open in Gianna’s dresser, as if magnetized. I held out a hand and a wave of cold energy washed over me as I drew closer, raising goosebumps along my arm. My stomach churned with a mixture of dread and anticipation, and a cold sweat broke out over my brow.

My eyes fell upon a wicked-looking dagger nestled in some delicate scarves in the drawer. Its wavy, iridescent blade appeared to writhe in the dim light, alive and hungry for flesh. The hilt was adorned with black diamonds, their facets greedily absorbing what little light there was in the room. The gems, often associated with darkness and mystery, pulsed with an inner malevolence that made my skin crawl.

The dagger wasn’t the only magical object in my sister’s dresser drawer. My breath caught when I spotted my missing ring—the Solarite ring—lying next to it. It glittered with gold, a beacon of hope in the darkness, its bronze stone shaped like the sun. It had the power to negate magic or break a spell at sunrise. I had been anguished when it had been stolen, and my heart sank as a sickening realization washed over me and the pieces fell into place.

Dimitri. I should have known.

White-hot anger surged through me, threatening to consume everything in its path. I had never wanted my sister to be with him. He’d proven himself a traitor too many times, but this... This was beyond the pale. He was now my own family, and yet still he conspired against me. Against Serenity. The sharp points of my fangs pressed against my tongue.

Was this the tool used to subdue Serenity? The thought of the dagger touching her and draining her essence made me want to tear the room apart. Worse—had my sister played a part in this nightmare? Bile rose in my throat as images of Serenity, weakened and afraid, flashed through my mind. The mix of fury and anguish they brought threatened to bring me to my knees.

“Enzo,” I called, my voice ragged with the effort of maintaining control. My hands shook as I clenched them into fists. “You need to see this.”

Enzo came up alongside me, cradling Elena to his chest. Surprise flashed in his eyes. “The Nightshade’s Thorn Dagger?” He glanced up at me, surprise hardening to cold fury. “Where the hell did Dimitri get this?”

“I don’t know,” I said, a maelstrom of emotions—rage, fear, and a deep, aching betrayal—threatening to overwhelm me. “But I intend to make Gianna a widow.”

Enzo pursed his lips and growled. “Never trusted that bastard.”

I glanced down at Elena in his arms, my heart squeezing at the sight of her unconscious, pale face.

He followed my gaze, his expression softening slightly. “She’s okay. I gave her some blood. She’ll be fine. But I’ll take her to her room to rest.”

“Good. Don’t let Gianna near her,” I growled, my low voice rumbling. The beast inside me was surfacing together with my anger, deadly fangs ready for blood. I snatched up the dagger, its weight ominous in my hand, then slipped the ring onto my finger. The cool metal pulsed against my skin, a comforting reminder of the power I now wielded.

I whisked down the stairs, my vampire speed blurring my movements. The scent of fear and blood hit me as I entered the living room, my eyes narrowing on the scene before me.

Gianna sat next to Dimitri on the couch, her face flushed with unnatural vitality. The coppery scent of vampire blood lingered in the air. It confirmed my worst fears: Dimitri had given her his blood—tainted blood. Well, I’d drain every last drop of it out of his throat. My jaw clenched as I considered this might be the last time she’d ever see her husband alive.

I rolled my shoulders and cracked my neck. Gianna’s eyes flicked to me, fear flashing in them. “Angelo? What’s wrong?” Her voice trembled.

In a blur, I crossed the room and shot out my hand, fingers wrapping around Dimitri’s throat with crushing force as I slammed him hard against the wall.

“You stole my ring,” I snarled, my face inches from his. “And where did you get the Nightshade’s Thorn Dagger? Did you use it on Serenity?” Her name tore from my throat. “Answer me, you fucking bastard!”

The Solarite ring glowed on my finger, its power thrumming against Dimitri’s skin. I saw a flicker of fear in his eyes.

Dimitri gripped my wrist, his eyes watering. “Your ring… Yes, I took it,” he sputtered. “I won’t…deny that.” He paused, trying to swallow, but my fingers tightened around his throat. His eyes darted to the dagger. “But that’s not…mine. I swear. I’ve… I’ve never seen it before in my life.”

Spittle dripped down his chin.

Gianna frantically beat her fists on my back. “Angelo—let him go. You’re going to kill him.” Her voice was laced with a desperation that I might have once cared about.

I threw her a withering look. “That’s the idea,” I growled, narrowing my eyes, my vision tinged red with bloodlust. I pressed the blade against his jugular until blood began to trickle down his neck. The coppery scent filled the air, mixing with Gianna’s perfume.

“Enzo!” Gianna screamed, her composure shattering. “Please help.”

The soft sound of hurried footsteps announced Enzo’s arrival. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him enter the room.

Tears swam in Gianna’s eyes as she made one last, desperate appeal. “Enzo, please,” she cried, turning to him for mercy or intervention. “He’s my husband.”

Enzo’s face remained impassive, unmoved by her distress. He shrugged, and his voice was devoid of emotion. “He shouldn’t have betrayed us. You know what happens when someone does that.”

Her eyes widened. “Angelo—no!” she screamed.

Her plea fell on deaf ears. I poured on my vampire speed, taking Dimitri to my secret room. I would get my answers, even if it meant extracting them from his dead corpse.