Angelo wasn’t the only one who knew how to wield pain.
Chapter Six
Joy
Enzo’s haunted, fierce look made me break out in goosebumps; the chill racing down my spine like ice water. The intensity in his dark eyes spoke of violence and desperation—he was racing into danger, doing something to protect me, and impending death lurked in those depths.
My stomach twisted into knots. All of this was my fault. If I hadn’t lost control, if those shadows hadn’t lashed out like living things with minds of their own, none of this would be happening. Angelo would be an ally rather than an enemy.
I lunged for the door, my bare feet slapping against the cold hardwood, desperate to stop him before he disappeared forever. “Enzo, wait?—”
But Steve’s iron grip clamped on my upper arm, his vampire strength making resistance futile. Pain shot through my shoulder as he yanked me back, and I stumbled against him.
“You can’t follow him.”
“Why?” Tears burned behind my eyes. I twisted in his hold, watching through the window as Enzo’s figure grew smaller in the distance. “Where’s he going?”
Steve’s jaw tightened, and he gave me his I’m-not-going-to-tell-you look—that maddeningly stubborn expression I’d seen a thousand times growing up. His blue eyes went flat and unreadable, lips pressed into a thin line. When he gave me that stern, closed-off look, it was nearly impossible to get him to talk. He was worse than a giant clam when it came to keeping secrets, closing up tighter the harder you tried to pry information out of him.
I wrenched my arm against his grip, panic making me stronger than I should have been. As I twisted toward the door, desperate to escape his hold, the scent of his hunger—metallic and sharp—hit me as I struggled, but I didn’t care. “Steve, tell me where he’s going!” My voice rose to nearly a shout, echoing in the empty house.
He slowly shook his head, irritatingly calm, and pulled me further away from the door. Watching the spot where Enzo disappeared felt like losing a piece of my soul.
“Enzo said you would explain, Steve.” I clasped his arms hard. “Tell me where he went.”
He shrugged. “True.” He gave me a sly smile. “But I know you, sis, and how stubborn you are. You’ll follow him. Ergo, I’m not telling you.”
Frustration and desperation clawed at my insides. My heart fluttered with panic, and familiar tingles rolled down my arm to my fingertips like electricity seeking an outlet. No, not now?—
Shadows burst through my fingers like jagged lightning flashes, wild and hungry for destruction. I tried to pull them back, to contain them, but they fed on my terror and rage, growing stronger with each heartbeat.
Steve’s eyes widened in horror as the darkness writhed around us. “Joy...” He uttered my name with a note of fear I’d never heard before—not Steve who’d always been my protector, my champion.
But it was too late. My anger had seized control of them, and they moved with a mind of their own. The shadows peeled his fingers off my arm like layers of an onion, each touch deliberate and cruel. Before I could scream for them to stop, they lifted him into the air as if he weighed nothing.
“No!” The word tore from my throat, but my own power ignored me.
Steve’s body slammed into the wall with a hollow boom that split the plaster and sent chunks raining to the floor. He crumpled to the ground, motionless, and guilt crashed over me like a tidal wave. Not again. Not Steve.
I yanked open the door, blood roaring through my veins as I desperately searched for any sign of Enzo. Maybe if I could see him, could call out to him, this nightmare would stop.
But he was gone. Cars lumbered by in the early morning heat, their engines a dull hum that seemed to mock my urgency. Across the street, a man walked his German Shepherd, the dog’s tail wagging as if the world hadn’t just shifted beneath my feet. There was no sign of my grumpy vampire anywhere.
The ordinary scene felt surreal after what had just happened—like the universe was pretending everything was normal while my world fell apart.
A low groan drew me away from the too mundane normalcy. Guilt washed over me at what I had just done to my brother. I reluctantly went back inside.
Steve had pushed himself into a sitting position against the cracked wall, blood dripping steadily down his pale forehead onto his shirt. Despite the pain that had to be radiating throughhis skull, he managed a weak smile. “You pack quite a wallop, sis.”
My heart shattered. “Oh, Steve.” I rushed over toward him, my knees hitting the hard floor with a jarring impact I barely felt. The guilt and remorse flooding through me had a strange calming effect—where anger made my shadows wild and uncontrollable, love and concern seemed to center them, make them respond to my conscious will rather than my raw emotions.
Tears blurred my vision as I took in the damage I’d caused—the gash across his brow, the way he winced when he moved, the plaster dust coating his dark red hair like snow. “I’m so sorry.” My hands shook as I reached toward him then hesitated, afraid to touch him in case the shadows decided to lash out again.
He held up a hand stained with his blood. “It’s all right.” His pupils contracted, muscles going rigid as I drew closer.
I sat back on my heels, the fabric of my dress bunching around my legs as I gently lifted the hem. The cotton was soft against my trembling fingers as I used it to dab the blood trickling down his face. Each drop I wiped away was an accusation.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I swallowed a lump of frustration and self-loathing. “When I get angry, my shadows lash out. They don’t listen to me anymore.”
