Page 62 of The Curse of Blood and Silenc

“No!” Gianna whirled on me, eyes blazing. “That’s my husband, brother. You can’t just?—”

“I can, and I will.” Ice filled my voice. “This isn’t a request, sister. Challenge my authority again, and you’ll join him.”

Enzo dragged a snarling Dimitri down the hallway, Gianna’s fists pounding on his back. I caught Enzo’s eye. “Chain him up. If my sister can’t control herself, have a second set waiting.”

Trystan yanked on the clothes Elena brought him. “And the cops?”

“Compel them to forget everything and send them on their way.” I turned to Pascal. “Follow them. Make sure they go straight to the station. Anyone who deviates—handle it.” The implied threat hung in the air. We didn’t leave loose ends.

Keir circled the entranced officers. “The ones orchestrating this may have infiltrated the police department. We need to see who has corrupted the force.”

“Balthazar first.” My tone ended all discussion. There was a reason I’d ruled New Orleans for decades. “These humans are disposable pieces. I want the demon who thinks he can play games in my territory. We move as planned. We’ll meet at midnight tonight.”

Keir vanished in a shimmer of dark fae magic – he would be gathering his Unseelie warriors, preparing them for the hunt through the shadows. Trystan straightened his suit jacket, already back to his elegant human form. He would be rallying his pack, positioning them throughout the Quarter. The wolf king’s hunters were unmatched at tracking prey.

I had more pressing matters to attend to. I headed up stairs to the guest room where Luigi stood guard. “Status?”

“All quiet,Capo.” Luigi straightened. “Everything good downstairs?”

“Flanagan and his men won’t be a problem. Compulsion’s holding for now.” I nodded to the bedroom door. “She awake?”

He shook his head. “No movement since the sedative took effect.”

I opened the door. Serenity lay still and vulnerable, the sight stirring both predator and protector in me. “Hold your post,” I ordered. “No one enters. No exceptions.”

“Yes,Capo.” Luigi closed the door with silent efficiency, leaving me alone with her.

I gathered Serenity in my arms, pressing my lips to her forehead. The drug would keep her under until this was finished.She’d be angry at me when she woke, but her fury was a price I’d gladly pay to keep her safe. And alive.

Chapter

Thirty-Two

Serenity

I wasin the same decrepit church again, where stained glass windows let in barely enough moonlight to be able to see anything. Balthazar stood with a strange glow around him, like a twisted halo, studying me with ancient eyes.

“You didn’t believe me about Joy,” he said. Not a question.

The name ripped through me. Joy—missing for weeks now, her disappearance haunting every waking moment. My best friend since childhood, vanished without a trace despite Angelo turning New Orleans upside down searching for her. My throat closed around a scream of rage and grief. “Don’t,” I choked out. “Don’t you dare speak her name.”

He snapped his fingers and the world spun away, leaving me stumbling in darkness. When everything stilled, I found myself in an abandoned house. Wooden boards covered the windows, but slivers of light cut through the gaps.

The soft glow appeared again, illuminating Balthazar as he stood next to a female figure sitting in a chair. Chains wrapped around her wrists and ankles, binding her to the metal seat.Her dark hair hung forward, obscuring her face, but I would know the butterfly tattoo on her shoulder anywhere. It was the same one I’d held her hand through when she got it on her eighteenth birthday. I knew the silver ring on her right hand, too: Louis had given it to her when she had graduated high school.

“No,” I whispered. “Please, no.”

Balthazar reached down, fingers tangling in her hair. He pulled her head back with deliberate slowness. I saw the wounds first—the right eye swollen shut, the lip split and crusted with dried blood, the left cheek a violent purple. But it was still unmistakably Joy’s face. My best friend. My sister in every way but blood.

My hands trembled but my rage came fast, burning away the horror. “I’ll kill you for this.”

“Me?” Balthazar released her hair, letting her head fall forward again. His smile was almost gentle. “Oh, I’m not the artist responsible for this work.” He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. “He is.”

Detective Louis DuPont emerged from the shadows like he’d been part of them. The man who’d treated me like a second daughter, who’d let me stay with them so I could escape from Freakie Freddie, the man who had kept me safe all these years. He was the only father figure I’d ever known. He was my real father in every way that mattered. His badge still gleamed on his belt, a mockery of everything it stood for. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up, spattered with what could only be his daughter’s blood. His usual methodical stride had changed to something... wrong. Like he’d forgotten how legs were supposed to work.

Then I saw his eyes. Solid black, like two holes punched in reality. Something shifted beneath the skin of his face, a ripple that shouldn’t be physically possible, and every instinct I hadscreamed at me to run. But what hit me hardest was seeing the man who’d promised always to protect us both standing there with his daughter’s blood on his hands.

I took a shaky step forward. “What’s wrong with him?”

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