Page 35 of Crown of Blood and Vengeance

Angelo flicked his hand, the gesture sharp and final. “Shut the curtain.”

My fingers fumbled with the heavy fabric, desperation making me clumsy as I yanked it closed. The maker’s bond throbbed between us, pulsing with Steve’s torment. I lurched forward, grabbing his neck with trembling hands and thrust mywrist against his charred lips. His fangs pierced my flesh with desperate strength, each frantic pull of blood echoing through my body. The shared pain began to ebb with every greedy swallow.

Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. My knees buckled, the room tilting dangerously as Steve continued to drink.

Strong hands wrenched me backward. “That’s enough.” Angelo’s voice cut through the haze of blood loss and shared agony.

“More...” Steve’s voice was raw, barely a whisper. His burned flesh still smoked faintly. “The pain...”

“This will be the last time you’ll receive this.” Angelo’s words rang with finality.

Keir’s fae-strong grip on my arm was the only thing keeping me upright as we watched Angelo offer his ancient blood to Steve. The transformation was immediate and mesmerizing—charred flesh knitting back together, pink and new. Hair sprouted from his scalp in waves, returning to its rich amber color as if the flames had never touched it.

“You’re done, vampire.” Angelo yanked his wrist away, leaving Steve staring at it with naked hunger. “How many demons?”

“At least twenty.” Steve’s tongue darted out, licking traces of Angelo’s powerful blood from his lips. His eyes remained fixed on Angelo’s wrist like a starving man eyeing a feast.

The implications twisted my gut. “Even if Steve’s with us and points them out,” I said, my throat raw from screaming, “we wouldn’t be able to fight them all.”

“No,” Trystan interrupted, the challenge in his eyes carrying the wild confidence of an alpha wolf. “But we could.”

Angelo’s gaze snapped to him, sharp with sudden interest. “How?”

“How else?” A predatory smile spread across Trystan’s face. “Smell. Nothing is more sensitive than a wolf shifter’s sense of smell. We should be able to hold them off long enough for you to get into the crypt.”

“We need more weapons,” I said, my hands clenching into fists. “Even if the wolves can snuff him out, we’re going to need to kill them.”

“I can help you there.” Keir unleashed a sword from his hip. He traced the edge of his blade with one finger, eyes cold. “I have swords that will kill the demons.”

“Our possessed men,” Angelo said, his fangs just visible beneath his upper lip. “Balthazar and Petar will pay for this waste.”

“I know,” I said softly, the words scraping my throat like ground glass. “But Balthazar and Petar aren’t giving us a choice.”

“We hit the crypt tonight at midnight,” Angelo said, every word carved in stone.

“They’ll be expecting that.” Keir stated the obvious, still caressing his blade.

“We wouldn’t want to disappoint Balthazar.” I smiled, feeling the expression twist into something feral. “We have to score to settle.”

“Once we get the potion,” Angelo said, shadows dancing across his aristocratic features, “we’ll heal Dracula, then he’ll open the gates of hell. But first we need the spell to open the crypt. Rose knows it. Where is she?”

“In one of the spare bedrooms upstairs. She hasn’t left Valentin’s side since the battle at St. Christopher’s Church.” Keir’s voice cut through the room with the precision of an executioner’s blade—refined, methodical, and brooking no appeal. His eyes, cold as midwinter frost, narrowed as Steve’s chain rattled with another violent pull. “I’m sorry to say he’sworse. By the way, Dimitri’s not handling his brother dying well.”

“Being in control of his feelings and actions has never been Dimitri’s strength,” I said, trying not focus on Steve’s desperate attempts to break free, the scent of his hunger nearly choking me.

“Add it to our growing list of problems.” The sharp voice from the doorway made us all turn. Dimitri stood there, his tall frame nearly filling the entrance. Dark circles bruised the skin under his bloodshot eyes, and his usually immaculate hair stuck up in wild tufts where he must have been compulsively running his fingers through it. “Keir, Valentin’s unconscious.”

Keir remained perfectly still, power radiating from him as the curtain stirred behind him, responding to his fae energy. The Elder Dimension bonds pulsed with an answering glow. “I’ve told you, Dimitri,” he said, his tone carrying the dangerous patience of a predator at its limit. “I’ve given him everything I have to combat this dark magic.”

Dimitri slammed his fist against the wall, the crack echoing like a gunshot through the holding cell. Spider-web fissures spread across the ancient stone, dust raining down. “But he’s going to die if we don’t do something.”

Keir’s eyes flashed with dangerous silver light, temperature dropping as his Unseelie power stirred. “I suggest you not damage my home anymore, vampire, or I’ll be forced to have you removed.”

Angelo moved with preternatural speed, grabbing Dimitri by the throat and lifting him off the floor. Behind me, Steve’s chains rattled with renewed vigor at the display of dominance, and through our maker’s bond I felt my fledgling’s hunger spike. Not just for blood, but for the powerful energies emanating from the elder vampires in the room. I needed to keep a tighter rein onhim. Steve had been reckless enough as a human; turning him had only amplified that dangerous impulsiveness.

“You need to gather your wits, Dimitri.” Angelo pulled back his upper lip, revealing his fangs. “Or I’ll rip your throat and chain you up next to Steve.”

Dimitri’s lips twisted into a savage smile that didn’t reach his pain-filled eyes. “He’s dying, Angelo. Would you be standing here playing general if it was your precious enforcer? Or would you have already burned this city to ash?” His voice dripped with lethal sweetness even as rage trembled beneath each word.

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