Chapter 3
THREE
“How’s this?”
“Mm… less green.”
“Better?”
A chuckle. “No. It was closer before.”
Nadi sighed. She was used to doing this with a mirror. Attempting to fashion herself a vampiric version of Monica with only Raziel for feedback was proving to be more difficult than she’d imagined.
But it at least gave her something to focus on. Something to think about that wasn’t what they had just done. And what Raziel had just forced out of her.
It hung in the air between them. She knew they needed to talk about it. It was going to fester in her chest if they didn’t. Whatever was going on between them, whatever he’d just wrenched out from the dark corners of her, couldn’t go back into the hole she’d been storing it in.
All that would have to come later, though. It would wait until they were back aboard the yacht. If they stayed in the estate much longer, Ivan would get concerned, and he’d blunder into the abandoned building looking for them. And that was the last thing they needed.
So—pragmatism. At least shifting into Monica also gave her the appearance of false clothing, seeing as Raziel had ruined her real ones.
Cracking her neck to the side, she shifted her skin tone again. She could base herself off Raziel’s well enough, but he’d pointed out she couldn’t be a one-to-one match. Monica had been far more tanned than him. She would look unnaturally “dead,” even for a vampire.
And so began the trial-and-error game in which they were currently engaged.
It also didn’t help the fact that he clearly found this extremely amusing. “What’s so funny?” She glared up at him.
“Nothing. I’m merely fascinated. I’m smiling because you’re becoming flustered, which I find adorable.” He tilted his head to the side slightly. “What’s the problem?”
Despite everything they’d just done, it felt like trying on underwear in front of him.
Which wasn’t more personal, just a different kind of intimacy she wasn’t sure she was comfortable with.
Rolling her eyes, she paced away a few steps to put some distance between them.
“Because you’re putting way too much importance into this.
No one is going to suspect that I’m secretly a fae shapeshifter masquerading as a vampiric Monica. ”
“I put together the puzzle well enough.” He folded his arms over his chest. “My family will as well given enough time. And this game we will have to play with them will require time and patience. This masquerade of yours must be perfect.”
“So, what happens when I’m expected to do something vampiric?” There was a major flaw with this plan. “You all have bizarre powers. I won’t. Short of being able to summon fangs on command.”
“You would be surprised.” He smirked. “You would have been created by my blood—and I have a unique gift among our kind. Who is to say that you would not have a unique mutation? Vampires have been known to take the shape of mist, bats, wolves… It is perfectly believable that one of us might have the ability to mimic other humanoids.”
With a dismissive shrug of his shoulders, he moved to one of the wooden pews and sat, putting his feet up on the back of the pew in front of him at an angle to accommodate his long legs.
“I think it will play into our ruse. In fact, it will help ensure my family sees you as an asset and not a mistake to be quickly disposed of to save political face. My not sacrificing you goes against our ancient code, blah, blah, blah.” He waved his hand in the air exhaustedly.
“The bitch will see this as a slight and the other clans will see this as weakness. Unless we show them how useful you suddenly are, she’s likely to finish what she thinks I couldn’t. ”
He had a point. And Nadi hated it when he had a point. Otherwise, Raziel’s mother, Volencia, was just as likely to have one of her men slit her throat and quietly dispose of her before word spread too far that “Monica” was still alive—well, undead. Whatever.
With a sigh, she ran a hand down over her face. “All right. But we’ll have to pretend that my powers are erratic. That I have little control over them and that it’ll be hard to maintain it for long. I don’t want them using me.”
“Deal.” Reaching into his coat pocket, he produced his silver cigarette holder and pulled out one of his strange incense-smelling cigarettes and began to smoke it.
She watched as the embers at the end glowed before the smoke curled up into the air around him.
“Now. Less green. More yellow-pink. You aren’t actually supposed to be a rotting corpse, dear. ”
It took several more tries, but she finally got to an appearance he was happy with. When it came to changing her eye color, however, she managed to get that right on the first try.
At least to something that he approved of. When she changed the color, he began to laugh.
“What?” She frowned. “What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing. They’re perfect.” He was standing closer to her at that point, the dim light of the room making it difficult to see color for the both of them. “Perhaps just a little more magenta than someone like you would prefer.”
She despised the color pink and everything close to it. Judging by the look on her face, it showed. “Great.”
He chuckled. “That is why I laughed.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead.
She pulled back abruptly and out of his reach. “What are you doing?”
That seemed to surprise him briefly before his expression smoothed. “We will talk this through back in private, Nadi.” He almost looked hurt. Almost. “Now. Let’s get this over with. You will have to ‘play dead’ as it were, as we return to the yacht. I’m sure you can handle that.”
She nodded. “How do you think this plays out when we get back?”
“Simple. Mother will be furious with me. I will be punished for disobeying orders.” He winced.
Clearly, he had suffered similarly in the past. “But I suspect it will blow over. Then, we can begin our work. Together. Now. Play dead like a good girl, will you? I’m eager to get out of this… miserable building.”
The trip back to the yacht was awkward, to say the least. Going limp and pretending to be a corpse.
And Ivan wasn’t thrilled, either, when he saw Raziel show up carrying her. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Just shut up and get us back to the yacht.”
“But—”
“I don’t pay you for your opinions, Ivan.”
The rest of the ride on the skiff was spent in silence. Nadi was thrown over his shoulder, just as the real Monica had been, as he climbed aboard the yacht. It wasn’t exactly dignified, but there wasn’t really any other way for him to climb a ladder.
She supposed she’d forgive him.
For that, anyway.
Everyone on the yacht would have seen her. All of the staff who were loyal to other masters than simply Raziel would be eager to radio ahead word of what they had just seen. They’d have a bill to pay the moment they set foot ashore.
It wasn’t until he laid her down on the silk comforter of the bed in the master suite of the yacht and threw the deadbolts with a loud series of clicks that he spoke to her. “You can move now.”
“Thanks for not dropping me. Or smacking my head on anything.” She opened her eyes and sat up, cracking her neck.
Going limp for that long weirdly put a crick in her spine.
After the time spent in the ruins of the estate, the luxury of the yacht was utterly jarring.
It felt… wrong, somehow. Dishonest. Vampires didn’t belong surrounded by soft velvet, glistening brass, and polished marble.
Not in her opinion. But clearly, Raziel didn’t agree with her.
Raziel pulled the heavy curtains to block the windows. Just in case. Probably a good plan.
Getting up, she went to the bathroom to look in the mirror. Her eyes were indeed a reddish-pink. Magenta. She hated them. But they’d do. And now she could memorize what color her skin was supposed to be in full light.
Raziel appeared in the reflection as he stepped up behind her, a black bathrobe in his hands. “Seemed to be the least I could do.” He frowned at her reflection, wrinkling his nose. “Shed this face. I find it offensive, now that I know what you truly look like.”
How oddly flattering. “Someone might come in and see me.”
“The door is three-inch-thick steel with four deadbolts. Ivan can’t get in, and not even Mael could bust it down. No. We won’t be disturbed.” His look of disgust deepened. “Drop the illusion.”
It was a command, but it lacked any sort of weight. Seeing Monica’s face on her seemed to truly bother him. Letting out a breath, she dropped the glamor. Once more fully naked and herself—though with legs, as her tail would be far too inconvenient—she watched his reflection in the mirror.
He draped the bathrobe over her shoulders. She tucked her arms through the sleeves and tied it around her waist, not bothering to thank him. He was the reason she was nude, after all.
“Come with me, Nadi.” He took her hand, and led her to the bed. She resisted. “No, no. I am done with that for now.”
“Then, what are you after?”
“Just come here, will you?” He kicked off his shoes, already in just a white button-down and his pants. He scooted farther onto the bed. “I want to talk. And… I want to see the real you, again.”
“This is the real me.” She climbed onto the bed, and sat on the covers, a few feet away.
“The rest of you.” Reaching out, his hand trailed over her legs. “All of you.”
“Why?” She arched an eyebrow at him.
“I haven’t seen anything like you before.” There was an almost troubled, confused look in his eyes. “And I find I want us to speak without all these lies between us… for once.”