Page 39 of Crown of Blood and Vengeance

Chapter

Twenty-One

Angelo

I crouched next to St.Christopher’s Church, the predator in me relishing the familiar thrill of the hunt. Moonlight spilled across the cemetery grounds, casting long shadows between the headstones. The Nightshade Crypt was about five hundred yards away from us, its marble facade gleaming silver in the light. To my right, Dimitri lounged against a stone pillar, looking deceptively casual. Rose Dragan was next to him. She was a Nightshade witch and a vampire. Her presence here wasn’t voluntary—I’d made it clear that Valentin’s life hung by a thread and only Serenity’s power could save him. The threat hadn’t been subtle. Rose knew I’d let him die without hesitation if she refused to help. Enzo kept to the shadows on my left, his dark eyes fixed on the crypt ahead. Between us, Steve stood rigid, his eyes darting from point to point in the darkness, tracking something the rest of us couldn’t see.

Angelo, hurry.

I winced as Serenity’s desperation slammed into me, her terror so raw it made my hands shake. She was panicked,her essence flickering like a candle in a storm, and I could feel something happening to her, something bad like a rose succumbing to the frost. The connection between us was fraying, growing weaker with each passing second.

Enzo glanced over at me, real fear flickering across his usually composed features. “What’s wrong?”

“Serenity.” My voice came out rough, choked with rage and fear. “She sent me another message. She’s in trouble.” My fingers twitched with the need to tear something apart, to make Balthazar bleed. “If fucking Balthazar has hurt her?—”

Enzo clasped my arm, his grip tight enough to ground me. “Stay cool,” he said, but I could hear the tension in his voice. “Losing your head is just what that bastard wants.”

Stark moonlight bathed the Nightshade Crypt in silvered light, casting angular shadows that seemed to writhe and dance. The structure appeared empty, but Steve’s rigid posture told me otherwise.

“Now this is more my speed. Invisible demons, rescue mission, and a king vampire about to go nuclear?” Dimitri adjusted his grip on the Unseelie blade, eyes scanning the shadows Steve was tracking. “Though I have to say, fighting things I can’t see? Not exactly sporting. At least when I’m ripping hearts out, I can look them in the eyes first.”

His smirk faded slightly as he watched me struggle with my rage. “But seriously, that whole ‘don’t lose your head’ advice? Sometimes rage is exactly what you need in a fight. Just ask me. My best moves always come after someone threatens Gianna.”

He’d shifted into a combat stance, blade at the ready. “So what do you say we stop with the dramatic monologuing and go crash this party? Steve can point, I’ll stab, and you can work out your feelings by tearing Balthazar apart. Win-win.”

Steve glanced at me then back at the crypt. “Balthazar isn’t here.”

The bastard must be overly confident he could take us down—a deadly mistake. My fangs lengthened at the thought, anticipation of the coming fight humming through my veins.

“If you’re all done with your posturing,” Rose cut in, her voice sharp with barely contained hostility, “those demons aren’t the only thing standing between us and that crypt. And every minute we waste here is another minute Valentin—” She stopped herself, jaw clenching as she glared across the moonlit cemetery. “Five hundred yards might as well be five miles if we can’t even see what we’re fighting.”

“We need to wait for the signal,” Enzo reminded us. “Or we’re going be running again with our tails between our legs like we did last time.”

“Not this time.” I promised, but then I glanced at Steve.

He kept flexing his fingers, still unused to their preternatural strength. His face twisted in fear, or was it recognition? If he betrayed me tonight, he would learn why even the eldest of our kind spoke my name in whispers. There were far worse fates than sunlight or starvation—I had spent centuries perfecting them. The thought stretched my mouth into a predator’s grin.

The witch-magic of the Nightshades crackled in the air, a taste like ozone and grave dirt on my tongue. Steve’s gaze snapped upward, following invisible movements that made him shudder. His time as a demon’s puppet had left him with an unwanted gift—the ability to see their kind. It made him valuable…and vulnerable. Balthazar wouldn’t want to leave any loose ends.

“What are we looking at?”

“At least twenty.” His eyes tracked invisible movements in the darkness. “They’re not alone. There are hellhounds.”

“Fantastic,” Dimitri drawled. “Invisible demons weren’t enough, they had to add Satan’s favorite pets to the mix. Anyone bring treats? Maybe we can convince them to sit and stay.”

“Hell…hellhounds? God, this is just like the last battle.” Rose drew out the Unseelie sword that glowed a dark midnight blue, meaning demons were present.

“Don’t worry, little witch,” Dimitri drawled, moving closer to her side. “Your boyfriend would turn me into a daylight-challenged pin cushion if I let anything happen to you. And trust me—” his smirk turned predatory as he scanned the darkness where Steve was looking, “—hellhounds aren’t nearly as scary as a pissed-off Valentin.”

Enzo narrowed his eyes. “How many?”

“Three. They’re guarding the door to the crypt.” Steve’s voice dropped to barely a whisper, as if afraid the beasts might hear him.

I swore underneath my breath as I gripped my sword tighter. Hellhounds were bigger and more vicious than wolves—I still bore scars from our last encounter with them. That night had been a bloodbath. Maybe Keir should have brought his harpies after all, but he’d warned that demons would sense their presence.

Trystan was leading his wolves closer to the crypt, his massive shifted form dwarfing the others in his pack. At least we had one advantage on our side.

Snarls and growls filled the air as Trystan and his wolves burst from the shadows, their massive forms charging the crypt.

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