Page 3 of The Curse of Blood and Silenc

My fangs yearned for blood as I stalked down the hallway, every muscle coiled, prepared to unleash devastating violence.Whoever was responsible for this would learn the true meaning of fear. They would beg for death long before I granted it.

But first, to find Serenity. And God help anyone who might have dared harm her.

Chapter

Two

Serenity

The dreamof Angelo melted away from me…

My eyes fluttered open, and panic immediately gripped my chest when I found myself on a strange bed in an unfamiliar room. “Not again,” I whispered, my voice trembling with both pain and fear. Memories of waking up at Crescent Manor after Angelo bought me at the auction flooded back, intensifying my anxiety. At least this time I still had my red sundress on, I realized. It was something.

A horrible headache pounded between my temples. I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to will away the pain and the rising tide of dread threatening to engulf me.

As if from a distant dream, the melody of “Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again” fromPhantom of the Operadrifted through my mind. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was important, that it was tied to Angelo somehow. The song’s wistful notes mirrored my own longing for him, making my heart ache for his presence. Why did this music make me think of him so strongly?

Where was I? I let out a shaky breath, fighting back tears. That question was important enough, but it paled in comparison to the one that truly mattered: How do I get back to Angelo?

My chest tightened with each passing moment. I wanted to return to him. No, not wanted—needed. He was my home, my safety, my world. And I would crawl through Hell itself to get back to his arms.

“I’m coming, Angelo,” I whispered, my voice filled with determination. “I don’t know how, but I’ll find my way back to you, I swear.”

I forced myself to stand, ignoring the way the room spun around me. Every instinct screamed at me to curl up and wait for rescue, but I refused. Angelo was out there, and nothing—not fear, not pain, not even whoever had taken me—would keep me from him.

On shaky legs, I began to explore my surroundings. Each step was an agonizing battle against my own body. But I pressed on, driven by a desperate, all-consuming need to return to Angelo. I had to get back to him. The alternative was unthinkable.

Where was Petar? Why had he betrayed us? Did he have a death wish? Angelo would kill him! My stomach churned as I recalled how Petar had lured me into that delivery truck with a lie about Joy being wounded inside. He’d claimed Angelo was in there too. How could I have been so stupid to believe him? Guilt and self-recrimination joined the cocktail of emotions swirling inside me.

I had to escape and get back to Angelo, but how? I thought back to when I had believed Joy was dead, and I had thrown objects around telekinetically. Perhaps I could use those powers to could break out of this place?

Heart racing, I eased myself off the bed, wincing at every squeak of the springs.

Please don’t hear me Please don’t hear me.

I focused, reaching for my Nephilim powers, the ones Angelo believed in. They had manifested before—they had to manifest again now.

Tiptoeing across the room carefully, my bare feet silent on the cold floor, I fought the urge to run. I couldn’t afford a single mistake.

Reaching the window, I threw open the plantation shutters with trembling hands, desperate for some indication of where I was, some chance of escape. My heart sank when I was greeted by thick iron bars, their presence a mocking reminder of my captivity. Beyond them, no comforting, familiar sight of the French Quarter met my eyes. Instead, an endless sea of trees stretched out before me, draped in eerie Spanish moss. Tall thistles and plants covered with flowers dotted the landscape.

My eyes were drawn to the colorful blooms. They were a deep, majestic purple, like something you’d see adorning a king’s robe. Their beauty seemed out of place in this nightmare.

As the full reality of my situation sank in, a sob caught in my throat. I was alone, trapped, and clearly miles from anything familiar. From Angelo. Each thought of him sent a fresh tumult of emotions through me—fear for myself, worry for him, and above all a desperate hope that somehow he would find me, since escaping myself was clearly out of the question.

I sank to the floor beneath the window, hugging my knees to my chest. “Please, Angelo,” I whispered to the empty room. “Please come for me.” Even as I pleaded, a darker fear took root. What if he couldn’t? What if this time I was truly on my own?

The sudden, scraping sound of a key turning in the lock sent my heart racing. I scrambled to my feet, pressing my back against the wall, as if I could somehow disappear into it. The door creaked open agonizingly slowly, each inch revealing more of the figure behind it.

A tall, muscular man with shaggy brown hair stepped into the room. His gray eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto me immediately. I felt naked under his gaze in a way that made my skin crawl. He moved with a predator’s grace, each step deliberate and menacing.

“Ah, Serenity, you’re awake. Good.” His voice was smooth, almost pleasant. Why did that make it all the more terrifying? He bowed slightly. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Gage Bray. You are now my…prisoner.”

The way he said “prisoner” sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn’t just a word; it was a sinister promise of things to come, none of them good.

I squared my shoulders, summoning every ounce of courage I could muster. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I held them back. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, pleased that my voice didn’t give away the fear coursing through my veins.

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