“Damn it,” I snapped.
“Keir also said Morden has the ability to control shadows like Joy does.”
My heart stopped. Another shadow wielder—someone with the same power as Joy. Hope and dread warred in my chest as the implications hit me. “Can he open the portal?”
Angelo shook his head. “No. He needs magic to help with the shadows. Our only chance is to get Killian’s blood to destroy the wards protecting the cathedral.”
I dragged my fingers through my hair. Patience was wearing thin and I was about to go crazy in the plane.
Pascal announced. “We’re preparing for takeoff. Please take your seats. It will be approximately three hours to Vail.”
Angelo poured me a straight bourbon. “You’re going to need to relax, Enzo. You’re the calm one.” He grinned. “I’m the unreasonable one.”
“Not anymore I’m not,” I mumbled.
“Good.” Dimitri clapped me on my stiff shoulder. “About time you stopped being so noble all the time. Welcome to the dark side, Enzo.” He clinked his glass against mine. “We have better bourbon.”
Getting drunk was tempting, but I had to draw on my wits. Joy was depending on me.
I took the glass and moved to one of the burgundy executive recliners, setting my drink on the built-in tray. Angelo settled into the chair across from me while Dimitri dropped into the one beside me, bourbon bottle in hand.
He winked. “One drink isn’t going to cut it, brother.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but who was I kidding? I doubted the whole damn bottle would calm my nerves. Maybe I should have flown to Vail as a bat. At least I’d be doing something instead of sitting still in this fancy cylinder.
The engines roared to life, their vibration thrumming through the leather seats as the jet picked up speed. We raceddown the runway toward the darkening sky, the aircraft’s nose lifting as we climbed into the evening air. Below us, the sun was sinking into the mighty Mississippi, painting the water gold and crimson—a beautiful sight that was like mockery when Joy was trapped in some hellish dimension.
I pressed my face to the tinted window, watching New Orleans shrink beneath us. Somewhere down there, Keir and the others were still camped outside St. Louis Cathedral, waiting for us to return with the royal blood that would break those vines. Keir wouldn’t abandon his post—he had too much at stake.
Opening the portal would put his own family at risk. They had fled the supernatural war when their side was losing, and Keir had always been about survival. Returning to the Elder Dimension wasn’t on his agenda—especially since he and the others would be branded as traitors and most likely executed on sight. He had as much at stake as the rest of us if the Unseelie weren’t kept from invading our realm.
I drained my glass as the city lights grew smaller below us, each one taking me farther from Joy. The smooth liquid rolled down my throat but did nothing to ease the tension in my neck and shoulders. As if sensing my distress, Dimitri immediately refilled my glass.
“Hey, we’re going to get them back. Both of them. I’m not losing my brother, and you’re not losing Joy.”
I wanted to believe him. God, I needed to believe him. But hope felt dangerous right now—like setting myself up for devastation if this went wrong. "Yeah," I said, voice rough. "We will."
“It’s time to see if Stefan Gabor will play nice.” Angelo pulled out his phone. “Stefan, Angelo Santi.” He caught my eye as he waited for a response. “Yeah, it’s been a while. We have trouble in New Orleans. Portal trouble.”
I sucked back my drink as Angelo explained to Stefan what was happening. Dimitri finished off his glass, fidgeting in his seat. Nervous energy rolled off him in waves. His fingers drummed against his thigh, jaw tight.
Surprisingly, Angelo remained calm and diplomatic. He could play nice when he wanted to, as long as he got what he wanted. “There’s a spell we need to break through some wards and we need blood from one of your prisoners—Killian Cormac.”
I swirled the ice in my empty glass as I drummed my fingers on the armrest. I could only hear Angelo’s side of the conversation, but the pauses told me Stefan was asking questions.
“No, he has to give it willingly or the spell won’t work. How close is he to Kara Khan?”
Angelo’s tone sounded so innocent, but the implication was far from it.
“I know she’s his mate. How far would he go to protect her?”
I didn’t know Killian Cormac and didn’t know how much he loved Kara. I just knew the three vampires sitting here would move heaven and earth to protect their mates. Hell, I was about to become living proof of that. There wasn’t a line I wouldn’t cross, wasn’t a moral boundary I wouldn’t shatter if it meant getting Joy back. Killian would understand, even if he’d hate us for it.
Angelo’s eyes narrowed. Not a good sign. “I see. Stefan, you owe me, and I’m calling in my chips.” The threat was there. If Stefan didn’t do what Angelo wanted, he would regret it. Reapers didn’t scare Angelo.
“If you don’t want me to interrogate Kara and Killian at the Hollows, then I’ll take them with me.”
Damn it. I could hear the resistance in Stefan's voice even from here. This was going to take longer than we'd planned. Nothing was ever straightforward when politics got involved.
