Page 22 of The Curse of Blood and Silenc

I stood there, as numb as if I’d fallen through ice, my bones heavy with dread. Even breathing felt like an effort. Balthazar looked at me steadily, his dark eyes holding ancient secrets and unspoken promises. “You have a choice, Nephilim.” Each word was honeyed venom. “The only way to save your vampire is to develop your powers. I can teach you”…he paused, letting the words sink in…“but you’ll have to pledge yourself to me.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t force me.” Each word fell soft as a shadow.

“Oh, I won’t have to, beautiful.” A knowing smile curved his lips, demonic energy crackling around him like a dark halo. “You’ll come to me willingly.”

Chapter

Eleven

Angelo

With Dimitristill recovering from my questioning, Pascal Broussard had temporarily taken over as my driver. He was one of Enzo’s guys—short and stocky, but quick as a snake and loyal to the bone. I still wanted to keep my eye on Dimitri, though, so I brought him along, even if every breath seemed to pain his cracked ribs. His face was a patchwork of healing bruises, his jaw still swollen where I’d broken it, his fingers bent at angles that hadn’t quite straightened. He shuffled forward like a battered marionette. As a born vampire, he took longer to heal compared to a made vampire like me.

In the limo, I sat across from him, contemplating my handiwork, studying the purple-black bruises that still covered his skin. My knuckles tingled with the memory of each blow, and satisfaction curled within me when I saw him try to hide his winces every time we hit a bump in the road. He’d clearly learned his lesson about crossing me.

Dimitri gave me a signature smirk, though it pulled at his split lip. The casual way he swirled his bourbon couldn’t quite hide how he favored his right side.

“You know,” he drawled, voice rougher than usual, “you and I really need to work on our relationship since we’re brothers now.”

I cocked an eyebrow, fighting the urge to add more bruises to his collection.

“By marriage, I mean.” His smirk widened despite the obvious pain I saw in his eyes. “Here I am, being a perfect brother-in-law, and you treat me like your very own personal punching bag.” Despite the dark bruises mottling his face, his eyes still held that dangerous glint of amusement. “Using me to make Trystan squirm? Now that’s the kind of petty I can appreciate.” He took a deliberate sip of bourbon. “I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed, though: Trystan isn’t my bestie.”

The way he said ‘bestie’ made my fingers itch for another round of questioning.

Enzo shook his head. “You’re poking the bear, Dimitri. I’d shut up if I were you.”

“Please,” Dimitri drawled, inspecting his bourbon like it was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the room. “I’ve been poking bears since before you were born, Enzo. I just love the way their fur feels.”

Enzo gave him a scowl.

“Okay, I know: you’re older than me. Like, Old Man Winkle old. Anyway—” His eyes flicked to me with that infuriating mix of amusement and challenge, though I noticed that he shifted carefully to avoid putting pressure on his ribs. “What’s my dear brother-in-law going to do? Beat me again? Kill me? Pretty sure his sister would have something to say about that. Though I have to admit”—he gestured to his face with his whiskey glass—“thisnew look is growing on me. VeryFight Clubchic, don’t you think?”

My fingers twitched. If the bastard wasn’t married to my sister, I would’ve torn his sarcastic tongue out by now. And something in his eyes told me he knew exactly how untouchable that bond made him. Gianna’s tear-stained face from this morning over what I had done to her mate flashed through my mind. But Dimitri had stolen from me, and I’d do it again if I had to.

Enzo sighed, but I caught him fighting a smile. Dimitri had that effect on people, making them either want to laugh or kill him…or both, simultaneously.

The limo curved along the river road, the Mississippi’s dark water gleaming under the moonlight. Keir’s yacht loomed ahead, a floating fortress of steel and luxury. It was a smart choice for our meeting—neutral ground that limited how many soldiers either side could bring. I could already sense Trystan’s powerful presence on board.

“Well,” Dimitri drawled, draining his glass with a wince, “this should be fun. Nothing like a friendly chat between mortal enemies aboard a boat. VeryGodfathermeetsTitanic.” He paused, that dangerous glint returning to his eyes. “Though let’s face it, Trystan wasn’t exactly sending me holiday cards even before I killed his man. Now he has another reason to want my head on a spike.” His smirk turned predatory. “At least I had a good reason. His guy went after Gianna. You, dear brother-in-law”—he gestured toward me with his glass—“killed just to make a point.”

I didn’t bother responding. We both knew exactly why I’d torn that warrior apart. Nobody touched my sister and lived.

“Yes, yes, we’re all very badass,” Dimitri continued, though his smirk looked more like a grimace through the bruises mottling his face. “A regular family of assassins. Speaking offamily reunions…” He gestured at the approaching yacht. “Shall we?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, fighting back a surge of homicidal irritation. Why did my sister have as her mate the most infuriating vampire in New Orleans? “Just keep your mouth shut unless I tell you to speak.”

“Yes, sir, boss, sir, three bags full, sir.” Dimitri mock saluted, and immediately grimaced at the movement. “Though you might want to work on your negotiation skills. The whole strong-silent-murderous thing? Super last century.”

Pascal opened the door for us and Enzo got out first. After learning of Petar’s plan to possibly take me out, he had insisted on assessing whether it was safe for me. Not that I needed protection. I was the strongest and deadliest vampire in New Orleans—stronger than King Nico and the Headmaster Tarus of Red Rose Academy combined. But I let Enzo play watchdog; it made him feel useful, and truthfully, having an enforcer who truly cared enough to check for threats was…kind of nice.

I watched Enzo scan the dock, his eyes tracking from shadow to shadow before checking the sky. His fingers brushed the Void Chain at his hip—a gesture that told me he sensed trouble. The magical restraints had the ability to bind any supernatural creature and neutralize their powers. He had fought Keir’s enforcer Lorcan Blackthorn for it in a battle that had left them both half-dead. The Unseelie enforcer had never forgiven Enzo for claiming the prize, and the two had been bitter enemies ever since.

Dimitri climbed out next. He stumbled and had to grab the roof of the limo to keep from falling down.

I got out last, buttoning my jacket. Two of Keir’s goons approached, including Lorcan. He was tall, and unlike the other Unseelie he wore his hair cut short—practical, like the warrior he was. He wore a gray suit that matched his cruel eyes. His gazetwitched when he saw his former prize in Enzo’s hand, and for a moment, the temperature around us dropped several degrees. Classic Unseelie tell.

“Santi.” He completely ignored Enzo and Dimitri. “This way.”

---