Page 6 of The Curse of Blood and Silenc

I was stalkingdown the hallway toward the bedroom I shared with Serenity, every sense on high alert, when sharp, sudden pain lanced through my skull like a white-hot blade. My vision blurred, the familiar walls almost twisting and warping around me. The familiar scents of the manor—old wood, leather, and a lingering trace of Serenity’s perfume—were suddenly obliterated by the acrid smell of smoke and fear.

I staggered, my usual vampire grace deserting me. I shot out a hand, bracing myself against the wall as my knees threatened to give out, but it did little to steady me.

“Boss?” Enzo’s concerned voice floated up from downstairs, sounding distant and muffled, as if I was underwater.

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog that had descended over my senses. It was incomprehensible. In all my centuries, I’d never experienced anything like this.

I staggered to our bedroom as the smell of smoke grew stronger, suddenly mixed with Serenity’s scent. She was here. Here, and in danger.

I forced another step, fighting the pain that threatened to bring me to my knees. “Enzo!” I snarled. “Up here. Now!”

He appeared in seconds, eyes scanning for threats. “Boss?”

“Smoke,” I growled.

His frown deepened. “I don’t smell anyth?—”

“Serenity’s here,” I cut him off, my voice raw with desperation. “Serenity. I can smell her perfume. It has to be her.”

Another wave of pain hit. I swayed but caught myself. Now was no time for weakness.

“Find her,” I ordered, already moving down the hall. “Now. Search every room. Go!”

My heart, long silent, felt like it might burst. Serenity was close. In danger. And nothing—not this bizarre pain, not any force on Earth—would stop me from saving her.

My hands trembled as I flung open the door and burst into our bedroom, desperately praying to find Serenity waiting for me. But as my eyes darted around the room, my heart sank.

Nothing was out of place.

No smoke.

No Serenity.

Our crimson canopy bed, where we’d shared so many tender moments, was perfectly made. The bookshelves stood like silent sentinels, neatly dusted and every book in place, taunting me with their orderliness. Not a lamp was out of place, not a stick of furniture overturned.

A wave of frustration washed over me. I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to tear the room apart in my desperation to find any trace of her. “Serenity,” I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion. “Where are you?” The thought of her in danger, possibly hurt, made my centuries-old blood run cold.

I took a deep breath, fighting to stay in control, but I could feel my composure slipping. My mind spun with terrifying possibilities, each worse than the last. If the wolves hurt her likethey had my sister... A red haze of fury threatened to overtake me as the memory of my sister’s broken body in the alley flashed before my eyes.

My fangs lengthened involuntarily, pricking my lower lip as I allowed the rage bubbling inside me to boil over. The taste of my own blood fueled my rage. I’d skin Trystan alive, hang his hide as a warning to every wolf. And yet the savage thought brought little relief against the fear chewing on my insides.

“Angelo, come quick.” Enzo’s urgent cry shattered my dark fantasies.

I burst from my bedroom, the world blurring as I moved at vampire speed. My beating heart nearly stopped when I saw the woman on the ground at Enzo’s feet.

I skidded to halt. It wasn’t Serenity.

I didn’t know if I should feel relief or frustration. The figure Enzo was bent over in my sister’s room was Elena Moreau, my housekeeper who was almost like a mother to me. I gritted my teeth and my heart clenched as he slowly rolled her onto her back. Her face was pale, a bloody wound on her temple matching Gianna’s. Unconscious. But alive, thank God.

“Take her to her room. Stay with her,” I ordered, moving toward my sister’s and Dimitri’s room, nerves crackling.

Enzo’s voice was tight with tension. “Do you smell that? Something foul.”

“Yeah, I do.” As soon as I crossed the threshold, an oppressive energy swirled around me like smoke, making every hair on my body stand up. The air felt thick, making it difficult to breathe, as if the very atmosphere itself was tainted by something unnatural.

The stench was unmistakable—a mixture of decay and ozone, the telltale scent of dark magic. I’d been around dark forces enough to recognize the reek of evil. As I made my way deeperinto the room, the pull became stronger, an invisible current tugging at my senses.

My eyes were drawn to a drawer left open in Gianna’s dresser, as if magnetized. I held out a hand and a wave of cold energy washed over me as I drew closer, raising goosebumps along my arm. My stomach churned with a mixture of dread and anticipation, and a cold sweat broke out over my brow.

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