Page 54 of Crown of Blood and Vengeance

The time for deliberation was over.

“Free Vlad,” I growled. “And find me a way into hell.”

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

Serenity

Balthazar walkedaround me as I stayed hidden beneath my wings. My heart thundered in my chest so hard I thought it might burst. The weight of my new wings pressed against my shoulder blades, foreign and frightening.

“Get up, Serenity, or I’ll open the door and let the hellhounds tear Poison apart.” His voice slithered around me like a serpent, making my skin crawl.

I drew on my power, wondering if I could fly out of hell, but what about Julienne and Poison? The sound of hellhounds snarling and scratching at the door turned my blood to ice. I couldn’t leave them to suffer their fate, nor could I stay here hiding beneath my wings.

I pushed up on my arms, my wings unfurling clumsily. They were heavy and light at the same time, like trying to control two enormous silk sheets in a windstorm. Sweat trickled down my spine as I struggled with them. How was I supposed to have them go back to where they came from? I didn’t have control ofthem at all—they seemed to have a mind of their own, twitching and shifting with every spike of fear.

Balthazar smiled, his eyes gleaming like polished onyx as he fixed them on my wings. “I have been waiting for this moment. This is like a beacon to heaven. Your father’s blood is strong in you, Serenity. Strong enough to make you the perfect bait.”

“Raphael abandoned me and Mom before I was even born. I didn’t even know he was my father until recently.” I tried to keep my voice steady, to hide how much that truth still hurt, how it felt like a knife twisting in my chest after all these years. “Why would he come down here?”

“He won’t realize you’re his daughter, but he will recognize an angel is in hell. I suspect your power is stronger than Poison’s. She’s a Dark Angel, but you’re the daughter of an archangel.” Balthazar’s smile widened, revealing teeth too sharp to be human. “He’ll come running to not only save Poison, but this missing angel. The great Raphael, so righteous, so noble. He cost me everything when he disrupted my deal with Dracula. Now he’ll learn what it feels like to fail someone who matters.”

My throat tightened as I glanced over at Poison. She slumped in the wooden chair, her chains binding her to it, her head lolled to the side like a broken doll. Oh god, did I kill her?

Balthazar followed my gaze. “No, Nephilim, she’s not dead. Just passed out from being drained. It cost me precious demonic reserves to expose those wings you keep hidden.” The causal way he said it made bile rise in my throat.

Something burned in my chest, a mixture of rage and helplessness that threatened to choke me. “Angelo will show up here first.” The name came out like a prayer, a desperate hope in this place where hope came to die.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset.” Balthazar’s voice turned mockingly gentle, like poisoned sugar. “You’re going to meet your deadbeat angel dad, my dear. I’m giving you exactly whatyou’ve always wanted, ever since you were a little girl.” His words cut deeper than any blade, reopening old wounds I though scarred over. “When you prayed for your father to rescue you.”

Ice flooded my veins as the blood drained from my face. Goosebumps rippled across my skin like a wave of frost, and my new wings trembled against my back. “How do you know that?”

“Because I was there.” His smile grew wider, more triumphant. “I was the one that heard your prayers. I was the one that erased your mother’s memory of Raphael and steered her into Freddie’s arms. And more important, intercepted the message to Raphael telling him about you.”

The world tilted beneath my feet. My whole life had been a nightmare—orchestrated by him. Every lonely night, every tear shed, every birthday wish for a father who never came—all because of this demon standing before me. My knees shook like autumn leaves in a storm, and dark spots danced at the edges of my vision. Bile rose in my throat as my stomach roiled. The pieces of my broken childhood clicked into place with sickening clarity. This demon wasn’t just evil—he was the architect of my pain.

“How could you do that to me?” The words scraped past my lips, barely louder than my thundering heartbeat, each syllable echoing with years of hurt.

He laughed, the sound vibrating off the stone walls like a jiggling cymbal. “Not to you, Serenity. To Raphael.” His face softened with what looked almost like genuine regret. “I have to admit that I do regret the suffering I’ve caused you. My intention was never to break you. You were an innocent bystander that was in the way. Normally I don’t feel this way.”

“Spare me,” I gritted through clenched teeth, tasting copper as I bit the inside of my cheek. “I don’t believe you.” My wingsflared out behind me, responding to my anger even if I couldn’t control them.

Fire blazed in his pupils, turning them into burning embers against the darkness. “What do you think happened to me when the deal with Dracula went south?” His voice rasped as if he was in pain.

Not that I truly cared, but curiosity nagged at me. “What are you talking about?” I shifted my weight, my wings adjusting with the movement.

He spread out his arms and slowly spun around, his movements deliberate and theatrical. The shadows seemed to dance around him. “Do you think I’m the king of hell?”

I blinked, taken back by the question. “Um, no. Lucifer?—”

“Exactly.” He cut off, his face twisting with a mixture of rage and terror. “What do you think Lucifer did to me when Dracula’s deal was broken and hell lost all of those souls?” Anger and fear flashed in his eyes, and for a split second, I saw something I never expected to see in a demon—vulnerability.

My anger and rage faded, replaced by a morbid fascination. My wings drew closer to my body, as if seeking protection. “I don’t know.”

His hollow laugh plucked at my overstretch nerves. “Lucifer is the inventor of torture.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a haunted whisper. “There are ways to hurt a demon that you can’t even imagine. Something that Lucifer is an expert at.” His hands trembled as he spoke, and sweat beaded on his forehead. “Every time I experienced unbearable pain, I thought of Raphael, wanting him to experience the same anguish.”

“That’s when you formed your plan?”

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