Chapter 32

Chapter

Thirty-Two

S erenity

I was in the same decrepit church again, where stained glass windows let in barely enough moonlight to be able to see anything. Balthazar stood with a strange glow around him, like a twisted halo, studying me with ancient eyes.

“You didn’t believe me about Joy,” he said. Not a question.

The name ripped through me. Joy—missing for weeks now, her disappearance haunting every waking moment. My best friend since childhood, vanished without a trace despite Angelo turning New Orleans upside down searching for her. My throat closed around a scream of rage and grief. “Don’t,” I choked out. “Don’t you dare speak her name.”

He snapped his fingers and the world spun away, leaving me stumbling in darkness. When everything stilled, I found myself in an abandoned house. Wooden boards covered the windows, but slivers of light cut through the gaps.

The soft glow appeared again, illuminating Balthazar as he stood next to a female figure sitting in a chair. Chains wrapped around her wrists and ankles, binding her to the metal seat. Her dark hair hung forward, obscuring her face, but I would know the butterfly tattoo on her shoulder anywhere. It was the same one I’d held her hand through when she got it on her eighteenth birthday. I knew the silver ring on her right hand, too: Louis had given it to her when she had graduated high school.

“No,” I whispered. “Please, no.”

Balthazar reached down, fingers tangling in her hair. He pulled her head back with deliberate slowness. I saw the wounds first—the right eye swollen shut, the lip split and crusted with dried blood, the left cheek a violent purple. But it was still unmistakably Joy’s face. My best friend. My sister in every way but blood.

My hands trembled but my rage came fast, burning away the horror. “I’ll kill you for this.”

“Me?” Balthazar released her hair, letting her head fall forward again. His smile was almost gentle. “Oh, I’m not the artist responsible for this work.” He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. “He is.”

Detective Louis DuPont emerged from the shadows like he’d been part of them. The man who’d treated me like a second daughter, who’d let me stay with them so I could escape from Freakie Freddie, the man who had kept me safe all these years. He was the only father figure I’d ever known. He was my real father in every way that mattered. His badge still gleamed on his belt, a mockery of everything it stood for. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up, spattered with what could only be his daughter’s blood. His usual methodical stride had changed to something... wrong. Like he’d forgotten how legs were supposed to work.

Then I saw his eyes. Solid black, like two holes punched in reality. Something shifted beneath the skin of his face, a ripple that shouldn’t be physically possible, and every instinct I had screamed at me to run. But what hit me hardest was seeing the man who’d promised always to protect us both standing there with his daughter’s blood on his hands.

I took a shaky step forward. “What’s wrong with him?”

Balthazar prowled behind Louis, placing his hands on his shoulders. “He works for me now.”

Tears blurred my eyes, hot and angry. “You bastard.”

Balthazar moved away from Louis, his shoes clicking against the floor as he walked. “But you can heal him, Serenity.” His voice dropped lower. “Come to St. Christopher’s Church.” His lips curved into a cruel smile. “If you don’t, dear Louis will finish what he started, and you’ll lose your best friend.”

I woke with a start. My mind swam, thoughts scattered like broken glass. This room... I recognized it. It was the same room where Angelo had first held me captive. The memory of those early days hit me—the fear, the shock, not knowing if I’d live or die.

Drool had dried on my pillow, and my neck ached from sleeping in an awkward position. I felt awful. My mind was strangely blurry, and a slick sweat made my blue silk robe cling to me like a second skin. The sheets beside me were rumpled but empty.

Where was Angelo?

My temples throbbed like someone was driving railroad spikes into my skull. Every heartbeat sent fresh pulses of pain ricocheting through my head. I squinted at the clock through a fog of agony—three-thirty. It was pitch black in my bedroom, so it had to be three-thirty in the morning.

My heart quickened as the dream came flooding back. Joy’s bruised face. Those things moving under Louis’ skin. Balthazar’s ultimatum.

How was Balthazar able to contact me again? Angelo had said that I was powerful enough to keep him out of my mind. He’d also strategically placed those ancient coins that were supposed to keep him out. Obviously, they hadn’t worked. And if Balthazar could break through Angelo’s magic...

I had to tell Angelo. Now.

The door was out—Luigi would never let me pass. But the window was a possibility.

I stumbled out of bed, steadying myself on the table when my legs threatened to give out. The room spun, but I forced myself toward the window. Only three stories. Not too high, and there was the thick ivy growing up the side of the mansion. If I could just?—

My hands banged against iron as I reached for the heavy curtains. I yanked the fabric aside. Thick bars crisscrossed the entire window frame, the metal thrumming with protective magic. Angelo hadn’t just posted a guard—he’d turned the entire room into a cage.

I stumbled away from the window, already forming a new plan. If I could convince Luigi that Angelo was in danger, maybe he would let me out. The room spun viciously, the aftereffects of Balthazar’s dream-walking still clouding my head.

“Luigi. Luigi!” I pounded on the door desperately.

He opened it, his broad shoulders blocking the hallway. He gave me that familiar scowl, the one that always made his scar twist across his cheek.

“Where’s Angelo? He’s in danger.” I moved away from the bed, still unstable, my sweaty palm sliding across the slick comforter. The overhead light was too bright after my nightmare. “Please, Balthazar’s going to?—”

“No.” He crossed his arms and planted himself in the doorway, muscles bulging under his black shirt as if I were some dangerous prisoner trying to escape. A cold smile touched his lips. “The capo warned me you might pull something like this. Said you’d probably try to convince me he was in danger.” He scoffed, and his dark eyes hardened. “The capo is too powerful for a demon to take down. Besides, he’s got Enzo and Dimitri with him.” He shifted his weight, blocking even more of the doorway.

My stomach dropped. Of course Angelo had thought of this—had predicted exactly how I’d try to escape. He didn’t just plan for threats; he anticipated every possible move I might make. I wasn’t just trapped by the bars and the guard; I was trapped by Angelo’s ability to think ten steps ahead of me. God, he probably had contingencies for his contingencies.

“Where did he...” Another sharp pain shot through my skull. Then the pieces clicked together despite my pounding head, and fury cut through the pain. “Did Angelo have you drug me?” My legs felt weak as realization hit—he’d planned this, all to keep me trapped in this house.

The fuzzy feeling, the weakness, the way the room spun—memories crashed through me. Being drugged before, waking up in that auction house. The same helpless feeling, the same violation. And now Angelo, who’d sworn to protect me, who’d helped save me from that nightmare, was using the same tactics. Different purpose, same method. Different cage, same loss of control.

The room spun, but I couldn’t tell anymore if it was from the drugs or the rage. Had this been his plan all along? How many other “contingencies” did he have ready? How many other ways was he prepared to control me while calling it protection?

Luigi’s face paled, guilt flashing across his features briefly before he schooled them back to enforcer-blank. “No.”

My fingers curled into fists at my sides as I stared at Luigi’s immovable form in the doorway. Angelo needed me whether he wanted to admit it or not. So did Joy and Louis. I could save them—I was probably the only one who could. Fury pulsed inside me, and with it came my power stirring like a wild thing beneath my skin. I crossed the room, going nose-to-nose with him. The spicy scent of his cologne couldn’t quite mask the metallic smell of blood that clung to him. ‘You need to take me to him.’”

“No.” He crossed his arms and spread his legs apart, using every inch of his height advantage to loom over me. He was ready for a fight.

“Let me pass.” I tried to slip past him, feinting left, but he moved surprisingly quickly for someone his size. His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, iron fingers pressing into my delicate bones.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Luigi stepped in front of me, his stance unyielding but careful not to touch me. His dark eyes were apologetic but firm as he gestured toward the bed. “Please return to bed, Miss Serenity. The capo was explicit about keeping you safe.” When I hesitated, he sighed. “I understand you’re restless, but you know how Angelo is about your safety. He would have my head if anything happened.” He picked up the comforter and held it out. “Please. Rest. He’ll return soon.”

“You can’t keep me here, Luigi.” I rolled to the other side of the bed, but he was there in an instant, his supernatural speed making my attempt at escape look painfully slow.

“I can and I will. I will not disappoint the capo again.” I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard fear in his tone. I remembered the rumors about what happened to guards who failed Angelo. The ones who…disappeared.

I glared up at him, my heart pounding against my ribs. “You don’t understand. If I don’t go, Balthazar will kill Joy.” The image of her bruised face was still fresh in my mind.

He shrugged but wouldn’t meet my eyes. “The capo made it clear that you’re the only one that matters. He’s not concerned about anyone else.” The words sounded rehearsed, as if he’d been practicing them.

I wanted to scream at him. To make him understand that Joy wasn’t just anyone—she was family. That Louis was more than just another victim.

Behind him, a shadow moved. Not the natural shift of light and dark, but something alive, something wrong. I scrambled backward across the bed, my heart battering my ribs like it might shatter them. The drugs made everything blur, shadows dancing and shifting. Was that Gage's silhouette? My mind spun with memories of the plantation, of being trapped, helpless. Terror exploded through me, turning my blood to ice water as the shadow loomed larger behind Luigi's shoulders.

Crapcrapcrapcrap

Gage. It had to be Gage.

He'd found a way in. Past the guards, past the security, past everything Angelo had done to keep me safe. My hands shook so badly I could barely grip the sheets, cold sweat soaking through my silk robe.

My guard, with all his muscle and loyalty, had no idea he'd just trapped me in here with a wolf enforcer. And I was still too weak from the drugs, my powers feeling distant and sluggish when I needed them most.

There was a whistle of movement behind Luigi. A vase smashed into his head, and he crumpled to the floor with a groan. Blood matted his dark hair as he tried to push himself up. Gianna dropped the bookend with a dull thud, then lunged at Luigi, moving faster than my eyes could track. She sank her fangs into his neck. Luigi's legs and body convulsed, his fingers clawing at the carpet, then he went limp.

Something was wrong. Gianna’s movements were too jerky, too violent—even for a vampire. The way she’d struck Luigi... This wasn’t just about freeing me. My stomach lurched as I studied her face. Her eyes weren’t black like Steve’s had been, but that didn’t mean anything. The demon prince was clever. Perhaps he had found another way to control her. What if—oh God—this wasn’t really Gianna anymore?

“What’s wrong?” I almost laughed at the question. What wasn’t wrong? First Joy and Louis, now this.

“Dimitri.” Her shoulders curved inward, grief etched in every line of her body. “He’s nearly lost his mind. He’s sure Balthazar has his brother. Angelo had him chained up in the interrogation room until he calmed down.” Her voice cracked. “But then he talked one of the guards into undoing the chains, then he overpowered him. I’ve never seen him like this—not even when we were fighting the wolves.” Her fingers tightened around mine with desperate strength. “I know my husband. He’ll sacrifice himself to save Valentin. He doesn’t care if he lives or dies, as long as his brother survives. We have to help him, Serenity. We have to save him from himself.”

I gave her a doubtful look, glancing at Luigi’s unconscious form. “Can you get us out of here?” Angelo’s compound was like a fortress, with guards at every exit. Even with one down, there had to be dozens more. I could already picture Carmine at the front gate, Nicola patrolling the east wing and who knew who all else, all of them ready to drag me back to this bedroom.

She gave me a mischievous smile. Blood still stained the corner of her mouth. “Yup. Thanks to Elena. She drugged Angelo’s men’s tea.” A soft laugh escaped her. “Who would suspect the sweet little witch who makes their espresso every morning?” She nudged Luigi’s boot with her toe. “They’ll wake up with nasty headaches, but they’ll live.”

I nodded. “Take me to Angelo.” If Balthazar was powerful enough to break through all the wards, powerful enough to invade my dreams despite everything... My stomach knotted, imagining finding Angelo too late, finding him facing that demon prince alone. Yes, he’d be furious when he saw me—I could already picture that look, that mix of fury and fear that meant he’d been trying to protect me. Again. But I’d rather face his anger than his funeral.

And it wasn’t just Angelo I could lose tonight. Joy’s bruised face flashed through my mind—my best friend, my sister in every way that mattered. Plus those things writhing under Louis’ skin... Balthazar had already hurt so many people I loved. The demon prince would keep taking and taking until there was nothing left.

No more playing it safe, no more being the one left behind to be protected. I couldn't stand in this gilded cage while Angelo faced a demon prince, while Joy suffered God knows what tortures. My hands trembled, but not from fear—from the thought of losing either of them. Let Angelo rage. Let him punish me later. Some things were worth his fury, and this—saving the two people I loved most in this world—this was one of them.