Page 36 of Crown of Blood and Vengeance

Angelo’s face hardened as he slammed him against the wall again. “We are doing something, fool. Tonight, we’re going to the Nightshade Crypt. Keir believes there’s something in the crypt that will heal Dracula so he can open the gates of hell. Only Serenity can heal your brother.”

Dimitri glared through red-rimmed eyes, his hands clawing at Angelo’s grip. Even half choked, insolence dripped from every syllable he managed. “The crypt can only be opened in the moonlight and only a Nightshade can open it.”

“Then Rose will come with us.” Angelo’s fingers tightened, and I felt Steve respond to the scent of Dimitri’s blood where Angelo’s grip had broken skin.

“She’ll never leave my brother.” The words came out rough, desperate, so unlike Dimitri’s usual sardonic drawl that I found myself tensing.

Angelo’s smile was cruel as winter frost. “You actually think she can defy me?”

I watched as something broke in Dimitri’s expression. His head lowered, shoulders slumping in a defeat I’d never seen from him before. “No.”

“Let me interrupt this family reunion for a moment,” Trystan said as he paced back and forth like a caged wolf. “We’re goingto be fighting Balthazar on his own turf?” Trystan scrubbed his face. “With whose army?”

“We’re not going there to fight,” Angelo said, his green eyes gleaming in the darkness. “Our mission is to get Serenity and Julienne as quickly as we can. We’ll have to create a distraction. Perhaps notify Michael what we’re doing. He always gets Balthazar’s attention.”

Tension coiled in my shoulders. “How are we going to do that?”

Angelo released Dimitri and met my unsure gaze. “Don’t you think the minute Dracula opens the gates of hell Michael will notice?”

I dragged my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, and World War III begins.” My stomach tightened as a darker thought hit me: where did Maximo fit into all this? He wouldn’t sit idle while hell’s gates opened. And Joy... she’d be right in his crosshairs when everything exploded.

Chapter

Twenty

Serenity

“Ah,the prince. He was such an easy pawn to manipulate.” Balthazar’s fingers twisted deeper into Rocco’s dark hair, wrenching his head back until the tendons strained in his neck. The prince’s eyes met mine, terror and shame warring in their crimson depths.

“Why do you say that?” The words scraped past my dry throat.

Balthazar’s laugh echoed off the obsidian walls, plucking my nerves like a guitar string. The sound bounced through the cavernous chamber, each echo carrying an undertone of malice that made the air feel thick and oppressive. Crimson light from eternal flames cast dancing shadows across the polished stone floors, and somewhere in the distance, the screams of the damned provided a haunting backdrop to his amusement.

“Because his jealousy and grief over losing Rose Allen to Valentin…or, correction, Rose Dragan nearly drove him crazy. He couldn’t see the obvious that was right in front of him.”

“Meaning what?” My fingers curled into fists at my sides, Nephilim power thrumming beneath my skin.

“She was never his mate.” He released Rocco with a contemptuous shove and glided toward me. His touch was ice cold as his fingers traced my neck, raising goosebumps in their wake. “Just like you’re not Angelo’s.”

I jerked away from his touch, the sour taste of fear coating my tongue. “That’s not true and you know it.”

His grip locked around my wrist with preternatural strength, demonic energy pulsing where our skin met. “Oh, I’m certain. Angelo only used you to heal the Aeternum Stone.”

The words attempted to rip apart my faith, but I brushed them off like cobwebs. That was old news. Balthazar was wrong—I trusted Angelo with every fiber of my being, trusted in the unbreakable bond that pulsed between us like a second heartbeat. The demon’s problem was fundamental: he couldn’t comprehend love, couldn’t understand compassion. His world was painted in shades of control and evil, power and manipulation. And now he wanted to drag me down into that darkness with him.

But I trusted in mine and Angelo’s love. I had to believe he was alive. He had to be. He just had to be. If he had escaped the execution, he would be unraveling Balthazar’s plan like an onion, peeling back the layers one by one until the demon’s schemes would crumble to ash.

“Now, I want you to try and absorb the prince’s power.”

I shook my head, my heart hammering against my ribs. I wasn’t like Angelo. Killing wasn’t in my makeup. Healing was. Tears pushed against the back of my eyes.Forgive me, Joy.“No. I won’t do this.”

Balthazar slid open a drawer, the scrape of wood against wood unnaturally loud in the tense silence. He withdrew a blade that seemed to drink in the hellfire’s light. Its ancient writingpulsed with an unholy glow, and the demon’s head carved into the handle seemed to sneer at me with ruby eyes.

“This is a hellish blade.” He held it underneath Rocco’s throat, drawing a thin line of blood that looked black in the crimson light. “Power enough to kill a vampire.”

Rocco went absolutely still, his eyes falling shut as if he’d already accepted his fate. He didn’t seem to breathe—a prince reduced to a sacrifice on the altar of Balthazar’s cruel games.

“So you want to be responsible for his death?”

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