Page 28 of The Curse of Blood and Silenc

Dimitri leaned against the doorframe, that sardonic glint back in his eyes. “If we’re going demon hunting, I’m going to need a drink. Preferably something that hasn’t been hurled against a wall.”

Enzo tilted his head. “Good idea. Come on.”

After they left, I quickly got dressed and headed down to my special room where I had the tools to kill a wolf shifter. Each step echoed with barely contained violence. Part of me sang with anticipation. Trystan had always been too powerful, too smug, too certain of his place in the hierarchy. And he’d never faced me at my full strength, never seen what I could do when I stopped pretending to be civilized.

Another part whispered caution, reminding me of all the times my rage had led to consequences I regretted later. Butthis was different. This wasn’t impulsive, blind fury—this was calculated vengeance. And if Trystan had done what I suspected from that dream…if he’d dared to hurt Serenity…then I’d show him exactly why vampires had once been called demons of the night.

Chapter

Fifteen

Angelo

Gianna stopped me,her face pale. She was visibly agitated. “Angelo, Detective Flanagan’s here to see you. There’s… There’s been another murder.”

I cursed under my breath. Chester Flanagan was definitely a thorn in my side. He was Louis DuPont’s partner and held me responsible for the murders and his partner’s disappearance. He also loved to sniff around my home like a bloodhound. I stared at her. “Who was the victim?”

Tears welled in her eyes. She bowed her head and choked. “My friend Nancee… Nancee Lane.”

I remembered her. She was the one that Gianna often escaped from Crescent Manor to go see. Another young woman dead, another connection to my family. This wasn’t coincidence.

“Angelo, there’s more. Detective DuPont is with him. He’s back, but he’s acting…strange.”

I froze mid-step, my rage turning to ice in my veins. Another murder. DuPont breaking free. The timing wasn’t a coincidence, it couldn’t be. Balthazar. I turned back to Gianna, movingwith the kind of deliberate slowness that made lesser vampires retreat. “What do you mean, strange?”

She swallowed hard. “His eyes…they’re…wrong. And he keeps scratching his arms like something’s crawling under his skin?—”

“Get everyone out of the main hall. Now.” Trystan would have to wait. If what I suspected was happening to DuPont was true, it needed to be handled before the detective became something far worse than just a compromised human. My fangs ached at the thought of what could be nesting inside him, using him like a puppet.

The blood drained from her face. “But Enzo and Dimitri?—”

I clasped her arms. “I won’t let anything happen to either one of them, but I can’t be worrying about you and Elena. Take her and go to my library and lock the door. Don’t let anyone in until you hear my voice. Do you understand?”

“I… I understand. I’ll take Elena to the library, Angelo.”

I waited until I heard Gianna’s footsteps fade down the hall, heading toward Elena. Only then did I let my mask slip, letting the beast inside me surface. My power filled the corridor like a living thing, making the crystal chandelier above tremble. Two of my family were in that room with what used to be Detective DuPont. And if anything had happened to them while I’d been upstairs plotting revenge against Trystan...

I moved toward the living room, each step silent. No more displays of temper, no more broken doors or shattering glass. This kind of hunting required stealth. Control. Everything I’d been struggling to master since I stopped being Death’s perfect killer.

But Enzo and Dimitri weren’t the only ones in danger. Balthazar was trying to seduce my Serenity. So my next move had to be flawless.

I entered the living room where Detective Flanagan, a tall man with glasses, paced impatiently.

Detective DuPont stood perfectly still, and I knew my sister had been right. His eyes were almost black, and beneath his pale, stretched skin, something shifted—like fingers pressing up from inside, testing for weakness. Whatever dwelled within him was growing too large to contain, something dark, something like a demon."

"Cold rage warred with disbelief as ancient memories clawed their way back to the surface. I'd sealed them myself—the twisted bodies, the screams, the way human skin would bubble and stretch as things from the void took possession. I'd buried it all so deep even Death couldn't have extracted them, wrapped each memory in spells of forgetting until they were nothing but shadow and dust. Yet here DuPont stood, his flesh barely containing whatever ancient evil had not only found those buried horrors but had shattered my most powerful spells to possess him. The power it must have taken... I'd seen possession before, but nothing like this. Nothing strong enough to break seals that had held for decades.

The power it must have taken... I'd seen possession before, but nothing like this. Nothing strong enough to break seals that had held for decades. Serenity would ask me to save him—she always believed everyone could be saved. But I knew better. When something this ancient took hold, there was no person left to save. DuPont was already gone.

I wondered if the same thing happened to his son, Steve. Or was he dead? Maybe Serenity’s best friend, Joy, had fallen under the demon’s possession too.

I kept my movements casual as I crossed the room, deliberately placing myself between the detectives and Enzo and Dimitri. The thing wearing DuPont’s skin tracked my every step, its black eyes gleaming with an intelligence that held nohumanity. The scent coming off him was pure decay masked by expensive cologne.

Behind me, I heard Enzo’s sharp intake of breath. Dimitri leaned forward in his armchair. “Detective DuPont,” he drawled. “You’re looking a bit…under the weather. Must be something going around.” His light tone belied the tension in his posture. He’d caught the rotting scent radiating off DuPont, too.

“Gentlemen.” I gave them my best smile, easy and businesslike, one I’d perfected over the centuries of hiding what I really was. “I’m afraid this isn’t a good time. I have a rather urgent meeting to attend to.” Flanagan might or might not buy the excuse, but as our gazes locked, I let the creature inside DuPont see what lurked behind my carefully constructed mask. Let it glimpse the monster that had made Death himself wary. The thing’s borrowed pupils dilated, and for just a moment, DuPont’s skin rippled like something was trying to crawl out of it.

“Your meeting is going to have to wait, I’m afraid,” Flanagan said. “I assume your sister told you that one of her friends, Nancee Lane, was found at St. Charles’ Wharf at approximately three A.M.” He pulled out his notepad. “Her body was completely drained, just like Emily Bastion’s. Just like all the others.”

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