Page 57 of The Curse of Blood and Silenc

I pushed my shoulders back, ignoring how much effort that simple movement took. The room might be spinning, but I met his fierce gaze anyway. “But you just said that my angelic blood can detect demon magic.” I swallowed against the lingering tasteof corruption. “I need to be there when you question the kings. I’m the only one who can sense if any of them have made a pact with Balthazar.”

His fangs descended, centuries of protective instinct warring across his face. The air grew heavy with his power, making Dimitri and Luigi exchange uneasy looks. Even in my drained state, I could feel the predator rising in him.

Enzo took a step forward. “You need to stay in control, boss. You don’t want Rankin or Hunter suspect you’re losing control.”

“You’re weak as hell.” He grabbed my arm, gentle despite his harsh tone. “You don’t want either Rankin or Hunter sensing you’re weak right now. You’re not going.”

Pride made me square my shoulders again. “I’m not weak.” The lie tasted bitter on my tongue.

“Please. You can barely stand.” He pointed at Luigi. “Move her to the library. She gets hurt again and you and I are meeting in my interrogation room. Do I make myself clear?” The temperature in the room seemed to drop at his words.

Luigi swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving up and down like he was trying to dislodge ice. “She won’t.”

I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists, fighting both exhaustion and frustration. I wanted to argue, but if I did, he’d probably have Luigi tie me up. Angelo didn’t make idle threats when it came to my safety. The thought of what his “interrogation room” might contain was enough to make even my sluggish mind wince in sympathy for Luigi.

Then again, if I was lucky, there might be a book in the library about angelic blood that could help me understand what I was becoming—even though right now just walking there felt like it would take whatever scraps of energy I had left.

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

Angelo

I hopedI wasn’t making a mistake allowing Luigi to guard Serenity. If he failed me again, he wouldn’t leave my interrogation room alive.

Enzo and Dimitri flanked me as we headed to the living room.

Pascal trailed behind, guarding the rear.

“No, I don’t want anything to drink,” Trystan was growling in the living room when we walked in. He and Keir were seated on the couch. Elena held a tray loaded with sweet tea and cookies, her hands trembling slightly as she stood before them. Southern hospitality, even in the face of supernatural tension.

Anger rose in me like a tide of black ice as I entered the room. The wolf king thought he could come into my home and threaten my people? In New Orleans—my city, my territory? I let my predator surface, feeling my fangs descend. The temperature plummeted as darkness gathered around me like a cloak of shadows. “I hope you’re not threatening my staff in my own home, wolf.” My voice carried four centuries of lethal authority.The last person who’d threatened my people in my territory now fed the gators in the bayou.

I let my fangs descend. “I hope you’re not being rude to my staff, wolf.” My voice carried four centuries of lethal authority.

Keir glanced between Trystan and me. “Gentlemen, please. We have far bigger problems than any petty differences between you two.” His expression was grim. “We found Gage and Balthazar at St. Christopher’s Church. They’re performing some kind of ritual that could threaten all three of our families. The power readings are off the charts.” He hesitated. “Petar was there, too.”

The rage that exploded through me turned my vision red. Petar. The traitor who’d helped Balthazar and Gage take Serenity, who’d betrayed loyalty for power. The marble fireplace cracked under the force of my fury. I could still see the marks Gage had left on her, still smell her fear from when she’d been their captive.

“There’s something else,” Keir said. “A dark power. It’s not demonic, but it’s extremely powerful.”

A power that wasn’t demonic?” I thought of Serenity’s blue flames of holy power, and Balthazar’s demonic corruption. If some other force was at play here, something neither angelic nor demonic... “Explain.”

Keir ran a hand through his hair distractedly. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s... ancient. Cold. Like staring into a void. When it pulses, it’s like all the light gets sucked out of the air. Even Balthazar looked to be wary of it.” His eyes met mine. “Whatever they’re doing in that church, that power is at the center of it. And it’s growing stronger.”

“He’s telling the truth, Angelo. I can feel it.” Serenity’s soft voice behind me made every muscle in me stiffen.

I groaned and turned around. Through our connection, I felt only exhaustion from her—none of the visceral reactions herangelic blood had to demonic presence, like the nausea she’d experienced when Balthazar’s blood message had triggered her powers. That meant Keir and Trystan were clean. But I didn’t want them knowing about her ability to detect demon magic—they’d be too tempted to try and steal such a powerful weapon for themselves.

Pascal’s face paled. “I’m sorry, boss. I didn’t see them coming.”

Idiot.I should have known. Gianna had my blood and could be quieter and move quicker than Pascal.

Serenity stood behind us with Gianna supporting her. My sister shouldn’t have brought her here—not when she was this weak, not when we didn’t know who to trust.

Keir’s eyes narrowed, studying Serenity with cold calculation. “What does she mean that she can feel that we’re telling the truth?”

“Nothing,” I growled. “Gianna, take her back upstairs. She’s exhausted.”

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