Page 19 of Chains of Blood and Darkness

The words tumbled out of my mouth like a runaway train. “Mom, I’ve been kidnapped and sold at an auction.” My voice quivered as I wiped away another tear.

“I know, honey.” She squeezed my hand.

“And I can heal people now. How can I do this? You couldn’t.”

“Oh, Serenity.” She cupped my face. “There are so many things I wish I’d had the courage to tell you.”

I frowned. “You mean like about my father?” The question had haunted me for years.

My mother’s eyes held a mixture of sadness and love. “Your father was a man caught between worlds, much like you yourself are now. His story is a piece of your puzzle, but not the one you need to solve it just yet.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just know I loved your father with all my heart. You were my greatest joy after I lost him.”

“Why…Why did he leave us?” It was a question I had asked her so many times, and she always avoided answering, but maybe now she would finally tell me.

She rubbed my arm. “You will find out in due time.”

I wanted to scream.

“And another thing—if you loved my father so much, why did you marry Freddie?”

Her expression softened. “I married Freddie out of a misplaced hope and a desire for stability—for us. He wasn’t always the way he is now. You might not remember that. But some gamblers are destined to lose, sweetheart. I see now. Ishould have bet on our strength together, yours and mine. I’m sorry.”

As the dream faded, I found myself chasing other happy memories with her, reliving happier days…and then I drifted back to darker times…

Chapter Nine

Angelo

The coppery taste of Serenity’s blood lingered on my lips, and I savored it with each languorous lick of my tongue. As the tingling sensations coursed through me, I could feel my strength returning. My wounds began to heal, as if a wave of power was rolling over me. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

Not even with the Aeternum Stone.

I straightened my back, taking slow, measured breaths as I approached the living room. Despite my determination to push her out of my thoughts, Serenity’s intoxicating aura lingered and teased at the edges of my mind. Enough! She was a distraction I couldn’t afford to have. Distractions meant I wouldn’t be at the top of my game, and in myworld, that could prove deadly. Yet her blood called to me like a drug, and I couldn’t shake the addiction.

No one would ever take her from me. Not Trystan. Not Keir. Definitely not the police. And if anyone dared to try, I would unleash an unstoppable fury on them that would leave a trail of broken bodies in its wake.

I set those thoughts aside as I entered the living room and saw Detective Louis DuPont standing in front of the marble fireplace. Clad in a tailored blue pinstripe suit that accentuated his athletic build, he turned his piercing blue eyes on me, his gaze intense in the dim light. His dark hair, styled in a neat cascade, added a youthful vigor to his sharp, chiseled features. Despite his relatively modest height, he carried himself with an undeniable command; the man had the sort of presence that filled the room without a word being spoken. His scowl, angry and deadly, flashed as he turned toward me, suggesting I was in for a stormy meeting.

I put on my best plastic smile. “Detective DuPont, to what do I owe the distinct pleasure?”

“Cut the crap, Santi. We need to talk about Serenity Bryce,” he growled, his tone accusatory, hatred simmering beneath his words.

“I’m not quite sure who you’re referring to,” I said, moving to the buffet table. “Drink?” I offered, pouring myself a glass of red wine.

He declined with a curt shake of his head, refusing to play along. “You know damn well who that is. My investigation points directly to you being involved with her disappearance.”

Interesting. Someone had a loose tongue and needed to be silenced—permanently.

Maintaining a neutral expression, I took a small sip of the Chianti. “Allegations require proof, Detective. And I doubt your supposed investigation has any. You seem to be grasping at straws.”

His calm facade cracked slightly, a flicker of anger in his eyes. “Don’t underestimate me, Santi. The truth has a way of coming out, and I won’t stop until I expose you.”

I met his gaze levelly. “Then I suggest you focus on facts, not fantasies. When you do, you’ll find I have no part in this.”

“What about the two murdered girls found in the French Quarter?” His question was designed to catch me off guard. It didn’t work.

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