Chapter Eight
Enzo
I looked one more time at the St. Louis Cathedral, analyzing the risk. What if I left and Joy somehow found her way back? At the thought of missing her because I’d chosen wrong, my chest tightened with regret.
Angelo clasped my shoulder. “We need to go if you want to save Joy.”
“And Valentin,” Dimitri added sharply. “We’re not doing them any good standing here staring at those damn vines.”
Nyx held his chin up high and pride shone in his eyes. “My father will return with the blood. I promise.”
Keir gave him a sad look. “We have no guarantees. Your father and your harpies are brave and determined, but we don’t even know if Hades will allow them into the Underworld. If there’s a chance we can get the blood from Killian, we have to take it.”
Tinker Bell, Alice, and Lorcan nodded their agreement. I gave a sharp nod. Like always, I had to make the hard call.
Angelo, Dimitri, and I shifted into bats and took flight. With each mile that carried me away from the bayou, my instincts warred against the logic. Every part of my training said never leave your position, but every part of me that loved Joy demanded action.
When we reached the airport, Angelo’s private jet was waiting on the tarmac, engines already running. We landed on the concrete beside the aircraft and shifted back to human form, bypassing the terminal entirely.
I’d screwed up. I knew it instantly—I should be back at the cathedral, ready to act the moment those vines came down. If they came down. I'd felt their strength firsthand, felt them constrict and drain. Tinker Bell and Alice couldn't break through them, even working together.
Without that spell, without the royal blood, those vines weren't going anywhere. And neither was I. We needed Killian's cooperation, which meant I was exactly where I had to be—even if every instinct screamed otherwise.
Pascal opened the door. “Boss, ready when you are.”
“Good,” Angelo said as he headed to the mahogany bar that dominated one side of the cabin, its crystal decanters catching the amber lighting. “Then contact the tower and tell them we’re headed to Vail.”
Pascal nodded. “Yes, sir, and I’m heading back to the cockpit.”
Angelo took out a bottle of Chosen Blood behind the bar and glanced at me. “It looks like you could use a drink.”
“I don’t know about him,” Dimitri said as he leaned on the counter, “but I could definitely use one.”
“Give me a glass.” I sat on the black leather bar stool and drummed my fingers on the marble counter. “You think Stefan is going to just hand over Kara and Killian? He’s not known just to release prisoners without consulting the supernatural council.”
Angelo poured me a glass. “He owes me.”
Dimitri slid into a seat next to me and flashed me a dark smile. “Please. The Santis don’t give a damn about the council’s rules. Never have.”
“But we can’t afford a war right now,” I said. If a war broke out, the supernaturals would shut down any portals to the Elder Dimension—cut off all access to prevent more threats. Joy would be trapped there forever. I couldn’t let that happen.
“We might not have to take Kara and Killian out of the Hollows,” Angelo said as he took a sip of Chosen Blood. “We can interrogate them there. That way Stefan isn’t breaking any rules.”
“That’s true.” I should have seen that myself. Angelo was thinking like an enforcer while I was acting like a desperate fool. Grateful as I was for his clear head, the fact that I needed it grated.
I picked up my glass. My fangs lengthened at the intoxicating scent—rich copper with an underlying sweetness that made my dead veins sing. I drained the Chosen Blood in one pull, feeling strength flood back into my limbs.
Angelo’s phone rang. “Yeah, Keir.” His eyes locked with mine as he listened, and I could see something shift in his expression. Whatever it was looked like good news. God knows I could use some. “Good to know. I’ll tell him.” He slipped his phone back into his jacket.
Please give me some fucking good news.
“What did he want?” The words came out sharper than I intended.
“Morden contacted Keir.”
“Then he has the blood?”
Angelo shook his head. “No. Hades refused. He’s on his way back.”
