Chapter 6 #2
“However,” Volencia raised her voice slightly, silencing the whispers, “the situation is not beyond salvaging.”
She nodded to Lana, who rose to stand beside her mother.
“My daughter has offered a solution.” Volencia’s pride was evident in the slight softening of her expression. “One that will not only repair the damage done but potentially strengthen our position beyond what it was before.”
Lana stepped forward, her sequined dress catching the light with each movement. “I will marry Zabriel Rosov.”
Gasps echoed through the chamber. Nadi kept her face carefully blank, but internally she was reassessing everything. This was no minor territory squabble—this was a major power shift in the metropolis.
“A marriage alliance?” One of the elder council members shook his head. “The Rosovs have refused such arrangements for centuries.”
“Zabriel is more… progressive than his siblings,” Lana replied, her smile enigmatic. “He understands that our families have more to gain from cooperation than conflict.”
Nadi didn’t miss the flash of calculation in Lana’s eyes.
There was more to this arrangement than she was revealing.
Nadi tried to think what she knew about Zabriel Rosov.
Only that he was the second of the four children.
Braen was the eldest, followed by Zabriel, and then his two sisters, Nabrisi and Asha.
Braen and Nabrisi both had reputations for being brutal and cruel in their own unique ways—for making people disappear.
But there was little to nothing known about Zabriel and Asha.
That in and of itself made them likely the more dangerous of the four siblings.
Panic started to buzz in the back of Nadi’s mind. But she had too little to act on. There was nothing she could do to stop the trainwreck happening in front of her.
“This is a tremendous sacrifice on your part, Lana,” another council member said, his tone reverent. “To willingly enter a political marriage for the good of the family…”
Lana lowered her eyes modestly. “We all serve the Nostrom legacy in our own ways.”
Nadi had to admire the performance. If she hadn’t spent time around Lana, hadn’t seen how the Sweetheart Mistress operated, she might have believed this show of reluctant duty. No, this was all a shot directly at Raziel.
“There is, however, one obstacle to this arrangement,” Volencia continued, her gaze shifting back to Raziel. “The eldest Rosov brother, Braen, opposes the union. He is notoriously unstable. Dangerous.”
“He’s a rabid dog,” Mael interjected, his deep voice carrying to every corner of the room. “Unpredictable and vicious, even by the standards of his family.”
Nadi didn’t miss the pointed look he gave Raziel.
“For the wedding to proceed, Braen Rosov must be eliminated,” Volencia said, her voice matter-of-fact, as if discussing the removal of an inconvenient piece of furniture. “Permanently.”
“And Zabriel is aware of this?” another council member asked, his brow furrowed.
“It was his idea.” Mael’s expression was thin. “He knows Braen has grown too dangerous.”
Volencia turned her cold gaze to Raziel. “And you, my son, will see to this task personally.”
Raziel’s expression didn’t change, but Nadi, standing close enough to feel the slight shift in his posture, knew the command had struck home.
“Mother—” he began.
“This is not a negotiation.” Volencia’s voice was steel. “You created this situation. You will remedy it. And your… bride will assist you. It is clear she delights in such things.”
Nadi felt the eyes of every vampire in the room fall on her, studying her reaction. She kept her expression neutral, though her mind was racing. They were being set up. This was no simple assassination—it was a test. Possibly a death sentence.
“Killing Braen Rosov will require more than brute force,” one of the council members observed, an elderly vampire with silvered hair. “He is paranoid and well-protected. Previous attempts have failed. Spectacularly.”
“Which is precisely why Raziel is the perfect choice for this task,” Volencia said, her smile sharp. “His particular… talents are suited to the job.”
Another council member leaned forward, his face deeply lined with age. “And the girl? What value does she bring to such a mission?”
Before Raziel could answer, Mael spoke up. “Monica has shown remarkable adaptability and quick thinking. Qualities that will complement my brother’s more direct approach.”
Nadi caught the slightly surprised look that flashed across Raziel’s face. Mael was defending their partnership? Interesting.
“Indeed,” Volencia agreed, though her expression suggested she was less than pleased with Mael’s intervention.
“The two of you will work together to remove this obstacle to our family’s advancement.
” She returned to her seat at the center of the council table, the movement deliberate and theatrical.
“You have two weeks. Lana’s wedding is scheduled for the full moon of the Devourer.
I expect Braen Rosov to be eliminated no later than seven days before the ceremony. ”
“And if we fail?” Raziel asked, his voice perfectly neutral.
The silence that followed was an almost palpable weight. Every vampire in the room stared, waiting for Volencia’s response.
When it came, her voice was soft but carried to every corner of the chamber. “Then, the council will be forced to reconsider whether your continued existence serves the interests of the Nostrom family.”
The threat hung in the air. Nadi felt a chill run down her spine.
Not for herself—she had always known her hunger for revenge could end in her death—but for the implications of what Volencia was saying.
The Nostrom matriarch would eliminate her own son without hesitation if he failed to serve her purposes.
Why had Nadi ever decided to come here in the first place?
She should have just let them tear themselves apart.
“I understand, Mother.” Raziel’s voice betrayed no emotion. “We will not fail.”
“For your sake, I hope not.” Volencia’s gaze shifted to Nadi. “And for hers.” She lit her cigarette, casting her face briefly in the glow of the flame. “It’s of no loss to me, either way.”
Nadi met the vampire’s eyes, allowing just a hint of defiance to show. It was what Monica would do—not cowed, but still aware of her precarious position.
“The council is dismissed,” Volencia announced. “Raziel, you will receive the intelligence we’ve gathered on Braen Rosov by nightfall. Study it carefully. This is not an opportunity for creativity.”
As the vampires began to rise from their seats, conversations already breaking out among them, Nadi felt a presence at her side. Mael had descended from the dais and now stood close enough that she could feel unnatural heat radiating from his massive frame. He must have fed very recently.
“Be careful, Monica,” he said, his voice pitched low so only she and Raziel could hear. “My brother’s methods tend to be messy, as you’ve seen. And Braen Rosov is not to be underestimated.”
“I appreciate your concern,” Nadi replied carefully, “but I trust my husband’s judgment.”
Mael’s golden eyes studied her face. “Do you? I wonder.” He turned to Raziel. “Don’t let your personal feelings interfere with this task, brother. We all remember what happened the last time you were assigned to deal with Braen.”
Raziel’s expression hardened. “Ancient history, Mael. I’ve learned from my mistakes.”
“I sincerely hope so.” Mael nodded to Nadi, then moved away to join a group of council members who were clearly waiting to speak with him.
As they exited the chamber, Nadi could feel Raziel’s tension radiating from him like crackling electricity in the air. His hand on her back guided her through the corridors of Volencia’s estate and back to the waiting car, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.
Only when they were safely inside the vehicle, with Ivan at the wheel and the privacy screen raised, did Raziel finally speak. “Well.” His voice tight with controlled fury. “That went about as well as expected.”
“They’re setting you up to fail.” Nadi was watching the streets go by.
Raziel laughed, the sound thin and sarcastic. “Of course they are. The question is whether they want me dead, or merely humiliated.”
“From what I saw in there, I’m betting on the former. Or both.” She paused. “What was Mael insinuating when we left?”
He turned to look at her, his red eyes reflecting the light of the streetlamps in the dimness of the car. “Braen Rosov and I have… history. My mother knows that sending me to kill him is either a suicide mission or a test of my loyalty.”
The raw honesty in his voice surprised her. “What kind of history?”
Raziel looked away, staring out at the passing cityscape. “The complicated kind.”
She lowered her voice. The glass was up between them and Ivan, but she didn’t trust that his bodyguard couldn’t hear them. “If we’re going to have any chance of succeeding—and surviving—I need to know what I’m walking into.”
For a long moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer. Then, so quietly she had to strain to hear him, he finally spoke. “He was once… the only person in this gods-forsaken city who showed me something resembling kindness.”
The admission hung between them, heavy with implications. Nadi studied his profile, the sharp lines of his face cast in shadow.
“And now they want you to kill him.”
Raziel nodded, his expression hard. “Welcome to the Nostrom family, darling. Where loyalty is always rewarded with torture and death.”
The bitterness in his voice was palpable. For a moment—just a moment—Nadi felt a flicker of something dangerously close to sympathy.
She tamped it down viciously.
“We should focus on the mission.” Desperately, she steered the conversation away from emotional territory. “Tell me everything you know about Braen Rosov.”
Raziel’s lips curved in a humorless smile. “Oh, I could tell you many things about Braen. But perhaps the most important is this—he’s even more dangerous than my family believes, and twice as clever.”
“Then, why hasn’t he made a move against the Nostroms before now?”
“Who says he hasn’t?” Raziel’s eyes met hers. “Braen plays a very long game. If he’s openly opposing this wedding, it’s because he wants something we can’t yet see.”
Nadi considered this, turning the problem over in her mind. “So we’re not just being sent to kill him. We’re being used as pieces in whatever game he’s playing with your family.”
“Precisely.” Raziel nodded, a spark of approval in his eyes. “And that, my sweet little murderer, is why we need to be even more careful than usual.”
The car pulled up to Raziel’s mansion, and Ivan came around to open the door. As they stepped out, Raziel leaned close, his lips brushing her ear.
“Trust no one,” he whispered. “Not my family, not my guards. Everyone is playing their own game. And we’re the pieces most likely to be sacrificed.”
With that cheerful thought, he guided her into the house, his hand at the small of her back once more. To anyone watching, they would appear as a united front—the dangerous son and his new vampire bride.
But Nadi knew better. They were two predators circling the same prey, their alliance tenuous at best. And when the time came, she would have to decide where her true loyalties lay—with Raziel, with herself, or with the vengeance that had driven her for so long.
As they entered the house, a servant approached with a silver tray bearing a sealed envelope. Raziel took it, breaking the black wax seal with his thumb.
“It would seem,” he said, scanning the contents, “that my mother is eager for us to begin. This contains their intelligence on Braen’s movements and security.”
He handed the pages to Nadi. “Take a look. We’ll begin planning tomorrow morning.”
The dossier was detailed and extensive—security rotations, known associates, properties, even preferred hunting grounds for feeding.
Nadi was impressed. And, if she were really honest, she was jealous.
It must be nice to have real money and connections.
If she’d had these resources when she was an assassin, her job would have been so much easier.
Someone had been watching Braen Rosov very closely for a very long time.
At the bottom of the last page was a handwritten note in elegant, flowing script:
Remember what happens to pets that bite the hand that feeds them, my son. Do not disappoint me again.
Nadi looked up to find Raziel watching her, his expression unreadable. “Your mother doesn’t leave much room for interpretation, does she?”
“Volencia has never been one for subtlety.” He sneered. “At least not when it comes to threats.” Taking the papers back from her, his fingers brushed against hers. “Get some rest. We have much to discuss and I need you sharp.”
As he turned to leave, Nadi called after him. “Raziel.”
He paused, looking back at her with one eyebrow raised in question.
“If Braen cared about you, or you him”—pausing, she chose her words carefully—“are you certain you can go through with this?”
Something dark flickered across his face—pain. Or perhaps anger. Maybe both.
“My dear, sweet Monica,” his voice was edged with steel, “caring for someone has never stopped me from killing them. If anything, it only inspires me to remove them from my life. You’d do well to remember that.”
With that parting shot, he left her standing in the foyer, the warning hanging in the air between them like the blade of a guillotine, poised to fall.