Page 31 of Chains of Blood and Darkness

“I just wanted to thank you for saving me,” he said slowly, his dark eyes searching mine for some kind of acknowledgment.

A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “You’re welcome. Honestly? I was surprised I could do it.”

“You’re very powerful. It’s a power that others are desperate to possess.”

I stared at his handsome face. His dark eyes reflected the pain still within him. If these people could do this to a vampire, I didn’t want to think about what they could do to me. “The people who want this power…Are they the ones that attacked you?” I couldn’t keep the fear out of my voice.

He held my gaze. “Just know that you’re safer in here than out there. Angelo won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Really?” I wasn’t sure if Enzo knew Angelo had fed on me.

Enzo’s eyes flicked to the leather-bound book resting on the table in front of me. “Did Angelo give you that?” His tone was laced with suspicion, and I could tell he was hiding something by the way he changed the subject so quickly.

I nodded, running a hand lightly over the book. It was still humming. “Yes. It’s…unique.”

He chuckled, his brown eyes lighting up and a smile spreading across his face. “Many of the books in here are magical and strange. You wouldn’t believe the lengths Angelo has gone to acquire some of them. He’s literally traveled to the farthest corners of the earth for them.”

I gazed at the books in fresh wonder. “Really?”

“Yes. And you should feel honored. Angelo is quite secretive about his collection. Very few have been allowed inside this library.”

“Why?”

His smile broadened, bringing a warm, infectious glow to his face. “That’s a question you’ll have to ask him yourself.”

There was a knock at the door. Elena poked her nose in and gave me a big smile that was at odds with the weariness in her blue eyes. “Chère, you’ve been in here for the last few hours. You must be hungry by now. Chef Gaultier has prepared dinner for you.” She came up behind Enzo and puther hands on the back of his chair. “S’il te plaît, you need to eat too, Enzo.”

Enzo sighed. “You won’t give this up, will you?”

“Never,” she said softly.

He put his hands on the table then pushed himself up with shaky arms. “Fine. I’m coming. I’m coming.”

She stuck out an elbow, and Enzo reluctantly took it. I followed as they shuffled in front of me. I kept thinking of the fallen angels and the people who wanted me. The real question was: did they want me because they thought my dad was an angel, or because they thought he was a demon?

In the dining room, an array of silver chafing dishes awaited us, each one promising culinary delight.

Gianna was already seated at the table. “I hope I’m not going to be banished to my room to eat, Enzo,” she smirked.

“No, no. You’re welcome to eat with us,” Enzo said as he slid into a dining chair.

I noticed a distinct difference in the way Jacques and Enzo treated Gianna. Jacques deferred to her, but not Enzo. He was definitely the one in control.

I inhaled deeply, the spicy scent of étouffée tantalizing my taste buds.

Elena gestured to the already set table. “S’il vous plaît, sit.”

The crystal decanter on the table was filled with a thick, dark red liquid. When Elena poured it into Enzo and Gianna’s glasses, my stomach lurched as I realized it wasn’t wine at all—it was blood. Then Elena picked up a different bottle and poured for me. I wrinkled my nose and refused to take a sip, but Elena reassured me with alight touch on my shoulder. “Don’t worry,chère. It’s just pinot noir.”

Pinot noir or not, I was hesitant to drink. After watching Freddie drown himself in alcohol to forget his misfortune, I limited how much I drank. I didn’t want to become like him.

With a flourish, Elena lifted the lid off the main silver chafing dish, revealing the étouffée. The steam rose, carrying with it the mouth-watering aroma of succulent shrimp and crawfish simmered in a rich, roux-thickened sauce. The holy trinity of onion, celery, and bell pepper perfumed the air as hints of garlic and thyme, together with a generous splash of Louisiana hot sauce, added layers of complexity and warmth to the soulful New Orleans dish. My stomach rumbled as I eagerly waited for her to fill my plate.

There was a smaller chafing dish of white rice which she added to my plate before spooning the étouffée over it.

The scent of spicy roux and tender seafood wafted from the steaming bowl in front of me, causing my stomach to growl. I eagerly scooped up a spoonful of étouffée and savored the rich flavors bursting in my mouth. Trying to distract myself from the sight of Enzo taking slow sips from his glass of blood, I focused on the intricate design of the tablecloth.

After a few minutes, a soft voice interrupted my thoughts, “Are you enjoying your dinner, Serenity? You’re so quiet.”

---