Page 45 of Crown of Blood and Vengeance

“Oh, there’s something that might make you change your mind.” He withdrew a hellish blade from behind him, its edge gleaming with an unholy light. “Did I mention that your precious vampire king attacked the Nightshade Crypt tonight? One of my servants stabbed him with a hellish blade. Not even Angelo Santi could survive a wound like that.”

“No.” The word came out as a broken whisper. My legs gave out and I sank to my knees, the world spinning around me. “Please. No.” Angelo’s face flashed through my mind, as did memories of his fierce loyalty, his strength, everything that made him who he was. All of it slipping away.

“I can heal his wound if...” He let the words hang in the air like a noose.

“Please, I’ll do anything...” Desperation clawed at my throat.

He pointed to Poison, whose silver eyes now held something that looked like pity. “Then drain her or Angelo dies—a long and slow painful death.”

A hollow laugh escaped my lips. I’m sure if I killed an angel I would lose my soul forever, but if I didn’t, I would lose Angelo. The choice stretched before me like an abyss.

There was no choice. There never had been. Balthazar had made sure of that.

My heart broke, the pieces turning to ash. Hell would soon become home. I would save Angelo, but he would be lost to me forever. No vampire, not even one like Angelo, could love someone who had fallen this far into darkness.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

Enzo

I knelt next to Angelo,still sprawled out on the cold stone floor, too still for even a vampire. The candlelight caught the sheen of sweat on Angelo’s forehead, and I put my palm over his nose, barely feeling an exhale of his breath. The demon’s blade had left its mark. His blood spilled onto the floor. Black veins spider-webbed down his neck. I unbuttoned his torn shirt, and the marks were visible spreading slowly toward his heart.

I glanced up at Rose. She worked at the altar, grinding obsidian into fine powder. The scent of dragon’s blood and wolfsbane permeated the air, making my nose burn.

Outside the crypt, I could hear the others—Trystan coordinating the wolf shifters as they tended to the wounded, Angelo’s enforcers securing the perimeter, and Keir’s quiet voice as he worked his healing magic on Dimitri and the other critically injured.

We’d split up by necessity—someone had to prepare the ritual while the others dealt with the aftermath of the battle.“Rose, there are strange marks on Angelo’s neck. The poison is getting worse. How much longer?”

Rose didn’t look up from her work, her hands steady as she measured the crushed obsidian. “The base potion needs to simmer for exactly one hour. According to the spell, we have to place the hallowed ground essence at the witching hour—3 a.m.” Her tone reminded me of a professor who knew there was no room for error.

I glanced at my watch, my stomach knotting. Just past one in the morning. We had less than two hours until the witching hour, our only chance to collect the hallowed ground essence. The thought of failing and losing Angelo made my hands clench into fists.

I scanned the books and jars cluttering in the crypt’s dark corners, already knowing the answer but needing to ask. “I take it that last ingredient isn’t in the crypt?”

“No.” Rose’s shoulders tensed as she shook her head. “I’ve looked everywhere and it’s not here. I’m assuming it has to be a fresh ingredient.” With trembling fingers, she picked up the vial that contained Pascal’s blood when he was possessed. She added it to the mixture, then held up the second vial containing pure demon’s blood. It seemed minuscule, dark oil moving against glass.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, letting out a heavy sigh. “Will this be enough?”

“It has to be.” Her silver rings caught the candlelight as she reached for another ingredient. “We can’t exactly go back and ask the demon for more.” The bitterness in her voice couldn’t quite mask the fear underneath.

I crossed my arms. “So where is this hallowed ground essence?”

Rose’s finger traced over the spell requirements again. “The text isn’t specific. Something that captures the sacred energy ofconsecrated ground.” She finally looked up, her eyes flickering with an unnatural amber light—her witch side showing through. “You need to find somewhere older than this church. Somewhere the holy energy has had centuries to seep into the earth itself.”

A harsh laugh escaped me. “You want me to go cemetery hunting at this hour?”

“St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 has been consecrated ground since 1789.” She didn’t wait for my response, already gathering supplies into a black velvet bag. Crystals clinked against glass vials. “The oldest cemetery in New Orleans. If there’s anywhere in the city that would have what we need, it’s there. Marie Laveau’s tomb alone has enough residual energy to power a hundred spells.”

I raked my fingers through my hair, letting out a heavy sigh. “How will I know what this hallowed ground essence looks like?”

“I suspect it has something to do with the amulet,” she said, tying the bag closed with practiced fingers. She finally met my eyes, and I could see the uncertainty there despite her confident tone. “The spell book doesn’t say, but my gut tells me that’s what you should be looking for.”

I looked back at Angelo, at the black veins creeping ever closer to his heart. I had no choice. I needed that essence, whatever it turned out to be.

“Then I’d better get moving,” I said, reaching for my jacket. “The witching hour won’t wait. But what about Dracula? We need to heal him from his possession.”

“He hasn’t been pierced with a hellish blade,” Rose said, touching the white stone with its carved star that had helped us capture the demon blood earlier. “The stone cast out the other demons—it will be strong enough to free him too. Right now, healing those wounded by the blade takes priority. We need Angelo at full strength to help fight Balthazar. I don’t thinkDracula will be powerful enough to rescue both Julienne and Serenity.” Her voice cracked at Serenity’s name. She didn’t say it, but if we didn’t get Serenity out of hell, her mate would die.

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