Page 73 of Kiss of Blood and Sin

As Enzo and I fell in behind Angelo, heading back to the limo, I had a terrible feeling that this was far from over. My finely tuned bullshit detector was going off like a five-alarm fire.

I wanted to believe this little barbecue had solved all our problems, but experience had taught me that nothing in our world was ever that easy. It was like expecting a werewolf to fetch—theoretically possible, but likely to end in tears and missing fingers.

Unlike Angelo’s guards, who probably couldn’t protect a sandwich from a determined squirrel, I’d make damn sure Gianna was safe. Anyone who came near her with less than friendly intentions would wish they’d volunteered as kindling for the wolf pyre back there.

“Well,” I muttered as we got into the car, “that was a delightful evening. Next time, let’s skip the execution and go straight to s’mores. I hear wolf fur makes excellent kindling.”

The silence in the limo was thick enough to cut with a fang. No one seemed in the mood for my razor-sharp wit, which was probably for the best. My body felt like it had been stomped on by a supernatural jackhammer, each bump in the road sending fresh waves of agony through me.I gritted my teeth, determined not to let a single groan escape.

As we pulled away from Werewolf Central, my eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. Angelo and Enzo sat like statues, their faces carved from stone. Tough crowd doesn’t even begin to cover it. I half expected tumbleweeds to start rolling through the car.

My hands tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white with the effort of staying upright. Every fiber of my being screamed to floor it, to get back to Crescent Manor at vampire speed. But even in my battered state, I knew better than to test Angelo’s patience. Or the local speed limits.

Gianna’s face flashed in my mind, a beacon of light in this mess of fur and fire. Was she safe? Had Jacques managed to do his job for once, or was I going to come home to another disaster? The uncertainty gnawed at me worse than my injuries.

I swallowed hard, tasting blood—mine or the wolf’s, I wasn’t sure anymore. The coppery flavor mixed with the lingering scent of burnt fur, creating a cocktail that would make even the strongest vampire gag.

As we hit another pothole, sending a jolt of pain through my battered body, I bit back a curse. This was going to be the longest drive of my undead life. But I’d be damned if I let Angelo or Enzo see me falter. I had a reputation to uphold, after all.

All I wanted was to get back to Crescent Manor, to see Gianna’s face and know she was safe. To hold her in my armsand forget, for just a moment, about werewolf politics and vampire grudges. To pretend that our biggest problem was choosing wedding flowers, not avoiding inter-species warfare.

But as the bayou faded behind us and the lights of New Orleans grew closer, I suspected this was just the beginning. The wolf might be dead, but something told me we weren’t out of the woods yet. Not by a long shot.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Gianna

I paced back and forth in the living room, my vampire hearing straining for any sign of the limousine’s return. The grandfather clock in the corner ticked away mercilessly, each second feeling like an eternity. Two hours had passed since they left, and my imagination ran wild with horrific scenarios.

My stomach churned with anxiety. What if they were ambushed? The thought of Dimitri, Angelo, and Enzo torn apart by a pack of vengeful wolves made me feel physically ill. I considered calling Keir Rankin, the Unseelie mafia king. Angelo relied on him for information, though their alliance was as stable as a house of cards in a hurricane.

Keir never did anything for free and Angelo would be furious with me since he’d have to give something to theUnseelie king. But right now, I didn’t care about that. Keir would have the men and the power to challenge the wolf king.

Just as I reached for my phone, the familiar rumble of the limousine’s engine reached my ears. Relief flooded through me, making my knees weak. Drawing on vampire speed, I raced out to the garage, the world blurring around me.

“Princess, no!” Jacques called out, his voice tinged with panic.

I could hear him right behind me, but I was faster, fueled by desperation and love. My feet barely touched the ground as I flew toward the garage, my heart pounding in my chest despite not needing to breathe.

I skidded to a stop as Angelo and Enzo emerged from the car. My eyes darted between them, searching for any sign of injury. Luckily, there was none.

But there was no Dimitri. Panic flared in my chest, squeezing my heart like a vice.

“Where’s Dimitri?” I demanded, my voice cracking with fear.

“You doubted I would survive?” His familiar mocking voice sent a wave of relief crashing through me. Dimitri emerged from the dark garage, his silhouette gradually coming into focus.

Without hesitation, I flung my arms around his neck, pressing myself against him as if I could merge our bodies together. The familiar scent of him—leather, cologne, and something uniquely Dimitri—enveloped me, calming my frayed nerves.

“Thank god you’re home,” I whispered, my voice muffled against his chest.

He slipped his arms around my waist, his touch gentle yet possessive. As he stared into my eyes, I could see a mix of relief, love, and lingering concern swirling in their depths.

“You’re safe?” he asked, his voice low and intense.

I nodded, drinking in the sight of him. “Thanks to you.” As I looked closer, I noticed the tension in his jaw, the slight stiffness in his movements. Concern flooded through me. “I think you’ve had enough for one day.”

He lifted an eyebrow, summoning his trademark smirk. “Enough? Please. This was just my warm-up. I could take on a whole pack of wolf shifters before breakfast.” He winced slightly as we moved. “Though I might need a blood bag or ten first. And maybe a massage. From you, preferably.”

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