Chapter 13 #2
The phone rang twice before Keir’s smooth, cultured voice answered. “Angelo. Are you a father yet?” There was an almost teasing quality to his tone, as if he found the idea of me with a newborn amusing.
“No. Not yet.” Behind me, I could hear Serenity’s ragged breathing. “I need information.”
“You always do.” A pause, and I could almost hear his knowing smile. “What is it this time?”
“The demon Vex. Have you heard of him?”
Nothing. Just dead air that spoke volumes.
“Unfortunately, yes.” All traces of amusement had vanished from Keir’s voice. “Why are you asking about Vex, Angelo?”
“Do you know what happened with the wolves in Lafayette? The ones with the Shadowfen Coven’s wards?”
“I heard.” A pause, then quieter. “The alpha’s daughter. Two years old. Drained completely.”
Shit. “You heard. When? And why the hell didn't you tell me immediately? A hybrid child gets murdered and you don't think that's something I need to know?'
Keir was quiet for a beat. “You're right. I should have called immediately.” No defensiveness, no excuses. Just calm acknowledgment. “I was trying to gather more information first. That was a miscalculation.”
I gritted my teeth. “Do you know anything else? Anything that can help me protect my family?”
Another pause, longer this time. “I know what kind of demon he is. He’s not like others, Angelo.
He’s Balthazar’s personal deal maker—has been for centuries.
While Draven binds people with blood contracts and magical debts, Vex.
..” He exhaled slowly. “Vex’s deals are darker.
They always require a sacrifice. Always blood.
And he prefers the blood of children—powerful children.
Hybrids, demigods, anyone with mixed supernatural heritage. ”
My hand tightened on the phone so hard the case cracked. “Why children?”
“Because their power is pure, unformed. Easier to manipulate, to channel, to use in dark rituals. And because demons like him enjoy breaking parents. The pain of a parent losing a child—especially a supernatural parent who thought they could protect them—it feeds him almost as much as the blood does.”
Behind me, I heard someone make a choked sound. Joy maybe. Or Elena.
“What kind of rituals?” I forced the words out through gritted teeth.
“Rituals to break angelic imprisonment—and to pay debts to powers older than hell itself. The blood of a powerful hybrid child can shatter bindings that angels put in place, the kind of divine locks that are supposed to be unbreakable.” Keir paused.
“And there are entities that even demons fear, Angelo. Primordial things that existed before angels, before demons, before the ordered world. They deal in very specific currencies. A child born of vampire royalty and angelic blood? That’s the kind of payment that could buy. .. almost anything.”
My entire world collapsed. Not just murdered.
Not just drained for a ritual. My daughter would be currency.
Payment to entities so ancient and powerful that demons feared them.
Her blood could break divine locks, could pay debts to primordial beings.
She wasn't just in danger—she was invaluable. Irreplaceable. The perfect sacrifice.
How the fuck was I supposed to fight that?
Serenity shook her head vehemently, her whole body trembling. “This can’t be happening. It just can’t. Not to our baby. Not at Christmas.” Her voice cracked on the last word, all the hope and joy she’d been clinging to shattering.
Watching her break gutted me—but it also sharpened something inside me into a weapon. She deserved her Christmas. She deserved joy and safety and a healthy baby in her arms. And I would give her that, no matter what I had to do. No matter who I had to kill.
I forced myself to stay focused on the call even as I watched her start to unravel. “Do you know where he is, Keir? Where we can find him before he finds us?”
“No. But there is one thing. Wherever he goes, vegetation dies. Plants wither, trees rot from the inside out, grass turns black. It’s his nature—death and decay follow him like a stench. If you start seeing plants dying in New Orleans, especially in concentrated areas, you’ll know he’s near.”
Finally—something concrete. Something my men could track. “How close does he have to be for that to happen?”
“Within a few blocks. His presence is... corrosive to living things. The longer he stays in one place, the worse it gets.” A pause. “Angelo, if plants start dying around your house, it means he’s already scouting you. Already planning his move.”
I looked toward the windows, toward the lush greenery of the French Quarter visible beyond. Everything was still green, still alive.
For now.
“Thank you, Keir.”
“Protect that child, Angelo. And watch your people. Vex doesn’t always come through the front door—sometimes he sends someone already inside to open it for him.”
The line went dead.
I slowly lowered the phone, Keir’s final warning echoing in my mind.
Someone already inside.
My eyes found Prudence.
But now all I could see was how pale she’d gone when I’d asked about Tinker Bell. How her heart had been racing. How she’d known things she shouldn’t have known.