Page 71 of The Curse of Blood and Silenc

He stretched out his hand. “Give me the dybbuk box and your sweet little Nephilim might live.”

Rage turned my blood to acid. My fangs descended, not with their usual slow slide, but with a savage snap that filled my mouth with the copper taste of my own blood.

“You touch her, and I’ll make what happened to Freddie Evans look like mercy.” Each word hinted at torture techniques perfected in the dark corners of history. “They never found all the pieces, did they? Your father was there that night. Ask him what happens to those who think they can threaten Angelo Santi’s family.”

A howl echoed across the graveyard. Trystan had shifted into his wolf form—three hundred pounds of white fur and French Quarter vengeance—as he slammed into Gage, hurling the traitor toward snarling vampires and hellhounds. He might be a pain in my ass most nights, but he understood territory. Understood loyalty. Understood what happened to dogs who bit the hands that fed them.

Gage whirled around and tore through his clothes. Muscles and bones cracking, but not in the usual way of a wolf’s shift. His skin rippled and bulged as if something was trying to claw its way out. Bones snapped and reformed, longer than they should be, joints twisting in impossible directions. The same red glow from the church started to pulse beneath his stretching skin.

The fur that burst through wasn’t the natural brown and white of his wolf form—it was darker, matted with something that looked like sludge. His muzzle elongated, teeth multiplying in rows like a shark’s mouth. When the transformation finished, he was massive—larger than any wolf should be, with muscles writhing under his fur like live things.

Enzo swiped at him, his nails extended, his eyes red, fangs bared, but Gage knocked him away like he was swatting a fly. He hit a tomb wall hard enough to crack the stone. What the hell? I had never seen that happen to Enzo. I was the one that turnedhim and he was almost as powerful as me. No wolf should have that kind of power.

Enzo recovered quickly, took out the Void Chain and twisted it around his knuckles. One cut with it, and Gage would be dead.

At least, I hoped so.

Petar stepped back when he saw the Void Chain. Trystan snapped at Enzo as if to sayGage is mine.

The red glow from St. Christopher’s Church was pulsing stronger now, in sync with Gage’s movements. Whatever ritual Balthazar had started in there, whatever darkness he’d tapped into, it was feeding power to his pet traitor. And if this was what Gage could do with just the residual energy...

Gage lunged at Trystan, jaws clamping around his throat with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed in a wide arc as he savaged Trystan’s neck, turning his fur crimson. The wolf king went down hard, his massive body slamming against the cemetery dirt.

Gage was foolish if he thought Trystan was so easily killed. Even with his throat torn open, even with blood turning the ground to crimson mud beneath him, Trystan’s eyes still blazed with centuries of alpha power. He twisted with impossible speed, muscles bunching under his gore-matted fur. His massive paws caught Gage’s shoulders, claws sinking deep into meat and bone. The sound of Gage’s ribs cracking under Trystan’s weight echoed like gunshots through the graveyard.

Trystan’s jaws found Gage’s soft belly and ripped upward. The traitorous wolf’s howl of agony cut off in a wet gurgle as Trystan tore him open from sternum to throat, painting the cemetery stones with pieces of his former packmate’s flesh. Gage’s enhanced blood splattered across the tombs, steaming in the night air—all that extra power meaning nothing in the end when faced with a true wolf king’s fury.

A choked sound escaped Serenity’s throat—not quite a scream, not quite a sob. The dybbuk box burned cold in my hands as I turned to see her doubled over, one hand pressed to her mouth and the other clutching her stomach as she fought not to be sick. The squelching sounds of Trystan tearing Gage apart filled the air, and she flinched with each crack of bone, each spray of blood.

I shifted the dybbuk box to one arm, ignoring its icy bite as I pulled Serenity against my side with the other, trying to shield her from the carnage. Her whole body trembled against me. This was exactly what I’d wanted to protect her from—the raw brutality of our world, where old powers settled scores in blood and bone. She’d already seen too much death tonight. She didn’t need to watch a wolf king reduce his enemy to scattered pieces across sacred ground.

The dybbuk box felt heavier underneath my arm. This wasn’t just about territory anymore. This was about power that could upset three centuries of carefully maintained order. The kind of power that could rewrite the rules of New Orleans itself.

Dimitri’s snarl came a split second before he lunged, hands reaching for it like a junkie desperate for a fix. I released Serenity and caught him by the throat, slamming him against the stone wall hard enough to crack the ancient marble. “Calm down, you fool.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I interrupting your perfect little power play here?” His voice was laden with his signature sarcasm, but his eyes were wild with barely contained panic. “You heard what Louis said… My brother’s in there being carved up like a lab rat, and you want me to what—stand here and strategize?” He kicked and flailed his arms. “His very life is at stake. Family first—or did you forget that in your centuries of playing king?”

Petar lunged forward, his fingers like claws as he snatched the box from my grip. Before I could react, he swung it in avicious arc, connecting with my temple. Stars exploded behind my eyes as my knees buckled. I hit the ground hard, tasting copper and dirt. Ancient rage surged through my veins like molten steel—how dare this pathetic creature strike me?

Through my swimming vision, I saw Serenity stumble, her arms pinwheeling as she fell backward into the dark maw of the crypt. Warm blood trickled down my face, its metallic scent filling my nostrils as Petar’s form twisted and contorted. His body shrank and darkened, bones cracking and reforming until a bat lifted into the air, wings beating frantically as it fled toward the looming shadow of the church. Dimitri lunged, fingers grasping at empty air, then immediately shifted into a bat and flew after him.

Still dazed, I shook my head. “Dimitri, no.”

Serenity got off the floor and stood in the crypt doorway—protected, but alone. I had two options. The smart choice was staying with Serenity. The necessary move was stopping that box from reaching whatever hell Balthazar had cooked up in that church.

Gianna’s scream pierced the night. Three massive wolves circled her, their bodies forming a wall of fur and muscle that cut off any escape. Blood already soaked her clothes, and their fangs gleamed pink in the moonlight—a preview of the fate they had planned for her.

“No!” Serenity burst from the protection of the crypt, power blazing around her until she glowed like a shooting star. Her hands shot up, and pure celestial energy exploded from her palms. The blast caught the wolves like a divine hammer, sending their massive bodies flying like broken dolls.

I leapt off the slab, running toward her, my mind still struggling to process the raw power I’d just seen this impossible girl unleash—the girl who kept shattering everything I thought I knew about her limits.

Then came the sound—like leather being torn by giant hands, like a thousand wings beating in hellish unison. The air itself seemed to thicken with dread.

Serenity’s face contorted in horror. “Angelo, look out!”

I spun just as razor-sharp talons sank into my shoulders. The harpy’s grip was iron, its touch cold as it ripped me from the ground. Through the red fog of pain, I saw another one snatch up Trystan, his wolf form thrashing helplessly in its grasp.

“Let go of me!” I slammed my fists against its scaled legs, but the creature only shrieked—a sound like metal scraping bone. Each beat of its wings carried me further from Serenity, and her desperate cries faded behind me as the harpy bore me toward St. Christopher’s Church. Toward whatever horrors awaited in that corrupted sanctuary.

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