Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Selena
Balthazar lived up to his reputation. Ruthless. Arrogant. Evil.
And he was gone.
But not before hurting Rocco and me.
My throat still ached—a deep, bruising pain that made it hard to swallow.
Every breath felt like sandpaper scraping against raw flesh.
But I couldn’t tell Rocco that. If he knew how much it hurt, he would have lunged at Balthazar.
And Balthazar could have killed him. Or worse—taken him somewhere else to torture him.
I’d seen the terror in Rocco’s eyes when the demon appeared. Whatever Balthazar had done to him, it had left scars that ran deeper than skin.
I wouldn’t add to his guilt.
Not now.
Not ever.
Rose grabbed her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed. “Alice? Are you still in New Orleans?” She closed her eyes and sighed with relief. “Good. I need to meet with you. Can you meet me at Bayou Jack’s?” A pause. “But don’t tell anyone. This has to stay quiet.”
Bayou Jack’s. I knew the place—a little Cajun restaurant near the water, known for its crawfish and its privacy. It was close to the lodge. Too close.
An uneasiness settled over me like a shroud.
I glanced at Rocco, saw the same worry etched into his features. “Wouldn’t they be able to track us?”
“Maybe,” he said.
They being Angelo and Costin. The vampire mafia king and Dracula himself. Both wanted us dead. Both had resources that stretched across continents. Both would be hyperattentive to anything out of the ordinary—any whisper, any sighting, any hint of where we might be hiding.
The last thing I heard about Alice was that she couldn’t control her powers. How could she even help us?
Rose hung up the phone. “Valentin and I will meet with Alice, but I think you two should stay here.”
“And do what?” Rocco glared. “Wait for Costin and Enzo to track us down. Not happening. I’m not going to be in the dark anymore.”
I could see the gears turning behind his eyes—not surrender, but the frantic calculation of a man running out of moves. Fly to Transylvania, find one of four castles, take on a demon—all before midnight on the Solstice. It was impossible.
But what choice did we have?
I held his hand. “He’s right, Rose. We can’t just sit here and wait for people to make decisions for us.”
“Alice could be followed,” Valentin stated the obvious.
Rocco glared. “I don’t care. We’re coming.”
Valentin shook his head, resignation settling over his face. “It’s your funeral.”
“Maybe.” Rocco clasped my hand, his grip warm and steady despite the chaos swirling around us. “Come on. Let’s go.”
I let him pull me toward the door, my heart pounding against my ribs. I wasn’t sure this was a great idea. Angelo and Costin were ruthless. They didn’t give second chances. They didn’t show mercy.
But I also wasn’t about to let Rocco walk into danger alone. For better or worse, we were in this together.
We were at Bayou Jack’s. It was one of those places that never closed. At three in the morning, it was still half-full—night shift workers, insomniacs, and creatures like us who did their best living in the dark. The neon sign buzzed in the window, casting a red glow across the parking lot.
The smell of crawfish and Cajun spices hung heavy in the air, mixing with the low hum of conversation and the clink of glasses. We got a table in the back, away from curious eyes.
But I felt exposed. Every face in the restaurant seemed to be watching us. Every whisper felt like it was about us. I couldn’t shake the paranoia—the feeling that everybody was about to make a phone call and turn us in to two ruthless killers.
I wrapped my hands around a glass of water I had no intention of drinking, just to have something to hold onto.
The door swung open.
Valentin put down his drink. “Alice and Darius are here.”
A woman walked through the door. She was smaller than I expected—delicate features, pale skin, blond hair that fell past her shoulders.
Beside her stood a man with long dark hair, tall, imposing, with silver eyes that seemed to see right through you.
It had to be Darius Acosta—a Golden Demon who had somehow found redemption.
Or at least, that’s what the stories said.
But they weren’t alone.
Two people I never thought would be there walked in behind them—Raven and Lucien Acosta.
The supernatural golden couple. Raven with her long dark hair cascading down her back, brown eyes that held ancient powers, and magic beyond any of us.
Her mate Lucien walked beside her—protective, handsome, built like a warrior, and utterly formidable.
I slumped back in my chair, suddenly feeling very small.
She was so intimidating. At least to me. Raven was one of the most powerful beings in our world, and she didn’t have a speck of dirt on her reputation. She was respected. Admired. Loved.
Not like me.
I had a past as a traitor and now I was a fugitive. A thief’s accomplice. A woman whose name was probably being cursed in both Angelo’s mansion and Dracula’s home right now. If Raven knew who I was—what I’d been guilty of—she’d either throw me out or hand me over to Costin herself.
Rocco’s hand curled into a fist on the table. He glared at the approaching group, his jaw tight. “What the hell are those two doing here?”
Rose shrugged. “I don’t know. Alice didn’t say anything about Lucien and Raven.”
The four of them headed over to our table. Valentin grabbed two more chairs for Lucien and Raven.
“Alice.” Rose got up from the table and hugged her. “It’s so good to see you.”
Valentin shook Darius’ hand. “Long time no see, buddy.”
Darius grinned. “It’s good to be back.”
Lucien clasped his brother’s shoulder. “Raven and I decided to come down to meet Alice’s people.” He pulled out the chair for Raven.
She glanced at us. “Rocco, Selena.”
Raven knew my name. The fact she’d said it without contempt—without the cold dismissal I’d braced myself for—loosened something tight in my chest. Though I wasn’t foolish enough to mistake civility for acceptance.
Rocco nodded but glanced at her suspiciously. His body was coiled tight, ready to bolt—or fight—at the first sign of trouble.
Alice took a seat next to Rose, her blue eyes scanning the restaurant before settling on our group. “It’s been busy over at Tinker Bell’s townhome. Enzo was interrogating all of us.”
A chill crawled down my spine. Enzo. Angelo’s enforcer. The vampire who could snap a neck without breaking a sweat.
Rose picked up her glass of water. “Angelo Santi?”
Alice’s face was grim. “And Costin. They’re both on a rampage.”
There it was. The confirmation of everything I’d been dreading. My stomach clenched. We weren’t just running from one powerful enemy—we were running from two. And both of them wanted us dead.
Lucien locked his gaze with Rocco. “You took the Lapis Umbrae.”
It wasn’t a question. It was an accusation.
Oh shit. He’s going to turn us in.
A waitress appeared at our table, all smiles, oblivious to the tension crackling between us. We ordered drinks—wine for me, though I wished I’d gotten something ten times stronger. Whiskey. Bourbon. A shot of Chosen Blood.
I scanned the busy restaurant, my pulse thumping in my ears. Every door, every window, every shadow—I waited for Enzo to walk in. He wouldn’t make a scene. Not here.
He’d smile, lean close, and whisper something that made your blood freeze. And then we’d disappear. Quietly. Efficiently. To somewhere no one would ever find us.
The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. No one at the table moved. Even the noise of the restaurant seemed to fade into the background.
Rocco leaned back in his chair, his posture deceptively casual. His eyes flashed red and he flashed his fangs. Tension radiated off him—tense, angry like a grizzly bear ready to attack.
He was thinking the same thing I was. And the fact that Rocco—who’d endured two years of exile and his own family’s rejection without breaking—was on edge made my anxiety spike rather than settle. If he was this rattled, we were in deeper trouble than I wanted to admit.
“Why play games, Lucien?” His voice was steady, almost bored. “You know the answer to that.”
How could he be so calm when my insides were twisted into knots?
Lucien folded his arms across his chest. “At least you’re an honest thief. But why sell it on the black market?”
Thief. The word stung, even though it was true. I wanted to defend Rocco—to explain that Angelo had blackmailed him, that his mother’s life was on the line—but I kept my mouth shut.
Rocco held Lucien’s hard gaze. “I didn’t.”
I dug my nails into my palm and forced myself to breathe. Falling apart now wouldn’t save us. I had to think. Be calm.
Lucien looked between Rocco and me. “Then what the hell happened?”
The question caught me off guard. He wasn’t accusing. He wasn’t reaching for a weapon. He was actually asking—like our answer mattered. Some of the tension in my muscles loosened, just enough to let me breathe.
Valentin took a swig of his bourbon. “Just sit back and listen.”
I stared at my wine glass while Valentin told our sordid story. Every word felt like a confession. Every detail made me feel more exposed, more vulnerable, more guilty—even though I hadn’t done anything wrong.
Once Valentin was done, Lucien motioned to the waitress. “Another round.”
I couldn’t read his expression. Was this a good or a bad thing? If he decided we couldn’t be trusted, one phone call to Angelo and it was over. We’d never make it to Transylvania.
But even if he believed us, the same impossible problem remained. Find Vex. Stop him. Before midnight on the Solstice.
This hopelessness was strangling. Four castles. One demon. A ticking clock we couldn’t slow down. And even if we found the shard, we still had to make it back alive and convince two of the most powerful vampires in the world not to kill us.
Raven studied me as if reading my mind, then she smiled. “You’ve given up?”
I shrugged, the defeat weighing on my shoulders. “It’s at least an eight-hour flight. Longer by bats.”
She winked. “True, but dragons are faster than bats or an airplane.”
If she said no, we were out of options. Out of allies. But the silence was worse than any answer—at least a no would let me stop hoping. “You’re going to help us?”
She reached over and clasped my hand. “Of course, that’s why we’re here.”
Her warmth chased away the cold doubt inside me. For the first time, hope bloomed. My eyes stung, and a tear slipped free before I could stop it.
Rocco's thumb caught my tear before it reached my jaw. He didn't say anything. Didn't need to. His hand lingered on my face, warm and steady, and the look in his eyes said everything — I'm here. We'll get through this.