Page 78 of Kiss of Blood and Sin

Elena’s hands paused for a moment, then resumed their soothing motions. “Yes, I do,” she said firmly. “You’ll be safe. Dimitri has proven he can keep you safe. Trust him.”

I nodded slowly, trying to let her confidence seep into me. “I know he can, but Mardi Gras...the mirror...” My voice trailed off, the words sticking in my throat.

Elena moved around to face me, her eyes soft but determined. “You’ll see. Angelo will retrieve the mirror, and it will reveal you walking down the aisle with Dimitri.” Her hands found mine, squeezing gently. “No scary warehouse. No wolves chasing you.”

I wanted to believe her, to let her optimism wash away my fears. But the knot in my stomach remained, a persistent reminder of the dangers we’d faced. Still, as I looked intoElena’s reassuring eyes, I felt a small spark of hope ignite within me.

“Maybe you’re right,” I said, attempting a smile. “Perhaps a night out is exactly what I need.”

As I spoke the words, I tried to convince myself of their truth. The idea of losing myself in the vibrant chaos of Mardi Gras was tempting, a chance to forget our troubles, if only for a night. But as I sipped the last of my tea, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that our story was far from over.

The familiar hum of the limousine’s engine sent a jolt of excitement through me. My heart leaped knowing Dimitri was back. Without a second thought, I raced toward the garage, my vampire speed making the world blur around me.

In my haste, I nearly collided with Angelo and Enzo as they entered the house. I skidded to a stop, my excitement quickly dampening as I took in their grim expressions. The tension radiating from them was palpable, filling the air like a thick, oppressive fog.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Fear crept up my spine, coiling around my heart like an icy hand.

Angelo’s jaw clenched, his eyes dark with frustration and barely contained rage. “Simon denied everything,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I even used compulsion on him, but the bastard knew nothing about the Solarite Ring or the Moirai Mirror.”

My stomach dropped. If Simon wasn’t behind this, then who was? The possibilities swirled in my mind, each moreterrifying than the last. I kept coming back with the same conclusion—wolves.

“The witch isn’t connected with Simon,” Enzo added, his normally calm demeanor strained. “There’s another player in this game, and we intend to find out who it is.”

My trepidation rose up out of my throat. “Tristan?”

Angelo’s eyes met mine, a silent promise of vengeance in their depths. Without another word, he headed up the stairs, Enzo right behind him. The sound of their footsteps echoed ominously through the house.

I stood there for a moment, frozen, as the implications of their words sank in. We weren’t safe. Someone out there was still plotting against us, hidden in the shadows.

Shaking off my fear, I forced myself to move. Dimitri. I needed to see Dimitri. He would know what to do, how to make sense of this mess.

I rushed toward the back door, my nerves on edge. As I reached for the handle, it opened, revealing Dimitri’s familiar face. The sight of him, safe and whole, sent a wave of relief washing over me.

But as our eyes met, I could see the same worry and frustration mirrored in his gaze. “What happened at Simon’s?”

Dimitri’s trademark smirk appeared, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let’s just say Simon’s going to need a good interior decorator. Your brother redecorated with his fists when he didn’t like the answers he got. Very avant-garde, if you ask me.”

“I got that. Do you think...do you think the wolves had anything to do with it?”

He shook his head, his eyes rolling dramatically. “Nope. Trystan was there, looking as furry and self-righteous as ever. He crossed his heart, hoped to die, and probably wished for a belly rub while swearing he had nothing to do with the theft.”

His expression softened as he cupped my cheek. “Why so glum, chum? Aren’t you happy to see your devastatingly handsome chauffeur? I’ll have you know, I’ve been practicing my best brooding face all day.”

I couldn’t help but smile as I put my arms around his neck. “Yes, I am. I’m just on edge with the theft and the wolves. Elena thinks I should attend Mardi Gras tonight, but I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “Why not? I’ll be there, and to be honest, I’m getting tired of playing guard dog in this mausoleum you call a home. Besides, I look fantastic in beads.”

“Do you think it’s safe?” I asked, biting my lip.

“Safe as houses.” He winked. “Well, safer than this house anyway. I wouldn’t let you go if I sniffed out any danger. And trust me, my nose is finely tuned to pick up trouble,… especially mutts…and good bourbon.”

Your editor has a valid point about Angelo's quick agreement. While the passage works in terms of moving the plot forward, it could benefit from showing more of Angelo's thought process or resistance before agreeing. Here's a suggestion to add more tension and character development:

When I brought it up to Angelo, his initial reaction was exactly what I expected—a firm 'No' accompaniedby a scowl that could curdle milk. But as I laid out my reasoning and that I was going to be wearing a disguise, I saw the wheels turning in his head. His expression shifted from outright refusal to reluctant consideration.

After what felt like an eternity of tense silence, he let out a deep sigh. “Fine,” he growled, 'but you call in every half hour. No exceptions.” His unexpected, albeit grudging, agreement caught me off guard. “And if anything feels off, you get out immediately. Understood?”

Relieved yet nervous, I nodded. His reluctant support pushed me to get into character. I slipped into my favorite red corset dress, the fabric hugging my curves like a second skin. My fingers trembled slightly as I secured a Venetian mask over my face, its intricate design hiding my features. To complete the disguise, I donned a vibrant red wig, effectively concealing my dark hair.

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