Page 39 of Chains of Blood and Darkness

I should have been furious at Gianna, making me drink when normally I wouldn’t, but she was right. Forgetfulness was a gift right now. I smiled smugly at him, then quickly drained the glass just like the previous two. Too quickly. The room spun, and my eyes went in and out of focus. I stood up, knocking over my chair in the process.

“I wanna go t’my room,” I slurred.

Enzo clasped my arm. “If he catches me touching her, it’s your fucking fault, Gianna.”

Gianna took another sip. “Don’t worry, enforcer. Your secret’s safe with me.”

He grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the dining room, sending me stumbling into the hallway. The next thing I knew, I was being dragged down the hall and into my bedroom. My feet barely touched the ground as he threw me onto my bed with a swift, supernatural speed.

I collapsed onto my bed, and Enzo covered me with a blanket. I shut my eyes, trying to block out the spinning room, Jacques’ murder, the fact that I was a fucking Nephilim, and most of all that my dad the angel had given me this gift—or maybe it was curse—and now I was on every supernatural’s most wanted list.

As I passed out, the last thought I had was that I had to protect myself or I would never survive…

Joy parked the car in front of my house. “Are you going to be okay? You can spend the night at my house again if you want.”

I sighed and laid my head against the back of the seat, staring at the small house. “Thanks, but I can’t leave Sammie alone with him.”

Mom had gotten the yellow lab for me when I was three. He was the sweetest dog, but he was ten years old now and not doing well. He couldn’t get up the stairs and peed when he was scared these days, which, with Freddie around, was all the time. Freddie was less than kind to my buddy. Another reason why I hated the man.

“Look, if you’re going to stay in this hellhole, Steve gave me something to pass along to you.”

Steve was her older half brother, and he was in a street gang. Ever since he found out that DuPont wasn’t actually his father, he’d been on a rebellious kick, lashing out at the world in his efforts to find a sense of identity and belonging. The betrayal had driven him to find a new family, one that accepted him without question, even if it meant living a life of crime. He’d taught me how to fight with a knife, insisting thatI needed to know how to defend myself in a world that was full of lies and deception.

Joy reached over and opened the glove box. “Here.” She pulled out a six-inch switchblade and handed it to me.

I frowned. “Joy, seriously? Won’t your father be mad?”

She scoffed. “Since when has Dad approved of anything Steve’s doing these days or the company he keeps?” Her sarcastic laughter died away, and she nudged me in the ribs. “You don’t want to piss Steve off, do you? Take it.”

I almost argued that I knew Steve would never hurt me. He thought of me as another kid sister.

But things with Freddie had been getting worse…

I took the switchblade and hefted it. It felt right in my hand. “Tell Steve thanks. Even though I don’t really think I’ll have to use it.”

She gave me a doubtful look. “I hope you’re right.”

I slipped the blade into the pocket of my school uniform. “I know I’m right.”

I got out of the car and headed toward the darkened house. Freddie must be out drinking and gambling again. I opened the door, excitedly listening for Sammie clicking his nails across the hardwood floor to welcome me home, wagging his tail.

I was greeted with silence.

That wasn’t like him.

I clapped my hands. “Sammie? Sammie? Come here, boy.”

The lights whipped on, and I saw Freddie standing in the middle of the living room holding a bottle of tequila. His long hair was pulled back into a greasy ponytail. When he first metMom, he’d been handsome, but now…now he was the type of guy you’d cross the street to avoid.

He cast his lecherous gaze over me and sneered. “Y’ smell like burg’rs an’ onions.” He was slurring his words so badly I could barely understand him.

I wrinkled my nose. He stunk like four days’ worth of barf. I headed toward the back door to let poor Sammie in.

He snagged my arm. “Yer mangy dog ain’ here. Had ’im put down after ’e pissed all over the kitchen floor agin.”

His words hit me like a punch in the gut. I couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe as the reality of what he’d done sank in.

His disgusting mouth came crashing down on mine, his stale breath making me gag. I turned my head desperately, trying to break away from his unwanted kiss, but he grabbed my chin roughly, forcing me to face him. His grip bruised my flesh as his fingers dug into me.

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