Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting golden patterns across the rumpled sheets. Nadi stared at the ceiling, her mind racing despite her body’s exhaustion. Last night had changed something between her and Raziel—shifted the boundaries that had once seemed so immutable.
And in the light of the dawn, it twisted something in her stomach that was closer to disgust than anything else.
Disgust at herself. This had to stop. It had to.
And she had a way out. Mael. She just had to be brave enough to take it. How many people had she seen in her life die by drug addiction? It didn’t matter how good Raziel made her feel, it was going to destroy her in the end. And she had to cut that part of her life out before it was too late.
The bed beside her was empty. Through the vague memory of sleep, she remembered Raziel leaving at dawn, murmuring something about meeting with Ivan to discuss their next moves against Braen. But his absence gave her the space she desperately needed to think.
She’d come to the Nostroms for one reason—revenge. To destroy the family that had destroyed hers, starting with the Serpent himself. But now, lying in his bed with his scent still clinging to her skin, she had to face an uncomfortable truth.
She was getting too close. Developing real feelings for a monster.
Sitting up, she ran her hands through her hair and took a steadying breath. “Enough is enough,” she whispered to the empty room. “You’re losing yourself.” He was killing her slowly. Piece by piece.
Mael’s offer echoed in her mind. It was a way out of Raziel’s control that would still allow her to complete her mission. It had seemed too good to be true when he’d first proposed it, but now it looked increasingly like her only viable option.
The more entangled she became with Raziel, the more she risked compromising everything she’d worked for. Everything she had ever killed for.
Rising from the bed, she headed for the shower, letting the hot water wash away the evidence of the night before. As the steam filled the bathroom, she tried to clear her mind, to reclaim some of the clarity she’d had when she first arrived.
Focus on the mission. Not on him.
By the time she stepped out of the shower, she’d made up her mind.
She would take Mael’s offer. It was the only sane choice.
She would find a way to extricate herself from Raziel’s orbit while maintaining her cover and her purpose. It was the only way. No matter how much it made something in her hurt, she had no choice. It was a weed, winding itself around her heart, and she had to rip it out before it grew too deep.
She was wrapping herself in a robe when the phone in the bedroom rang. Frowning—few people called the private line—she moved to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Monica, darling!” Lana’s voice, saccharine sweet and buzzing with energy, came through the line. “I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.”
Nadi straightened, instantly on alert. If Lana was calling her directly, that meant she knew Raziel was out of the house. That meant the Sweetheart Mistress was up to something. “Not at all. What can I do for you?”
“I’ve been thinking about the wedding,” Lana continued, “and there are some details we really must discuss. Would you be a dear and come by my estate this morning? Say, in an hour or two?”
“The wedding?” Nadi repeated, momentarily confused. Then, she remembered—Lana’s upcoming marriage to Zabriel Rosov. “Right. Yes. Sorry. Everything’s been such a blur.”
“Of course! You poor thing. But I was hoping to get your help with some of the preparations.” She paused. “It’s important, Monica. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t.”
It made her uneasy. Lana was definitely up to something. But Nadi couldn’t refuse without raising suspicion. And, moreover, she wanted to know what was going on. “Of course. I’ll be there.”
“Wonderful! Just come alone, would you? Girl talk and all that.”
The line went dead before Nadi could respond, leaving her with a growing sense of unease.
Lana was playing some kind of game—she always was—but what exactly did she want?
There was only one way to find out.
Lana’s estate was a sprawling, modernist monstrosity at the edge of the metropolis, all sharp angles and gleaming surfaces. It couldn’t have been more different from Raziel’s home with its modern lines and sleek, polished luxury.
A human servant met Nadi at the door, ushering her through a series of stark white corridors to a sunroom at the back of the house.
Azazel was sprawled out on a chaise longue, reading a book, eating grapes in a manner that she was certain was meant to be annoying.
And there, surrounded by exotic plants in glass terrariums—each carefully sealed to prevent any infection from the Wild—sat Lana, resplendent in a pale pink dress that made her look almost innocent.
An illusion that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Monica! Right on time.” Lana gestured to the seat across from her. “Come, sit. Would you like some tea? Or blood, perhaps?”
“Tea would be fine,” Nadi replied, taking the offered seat cautiously. Every instinct she had was screaming danger. “My stomach is still getting adjusted to blood.” She glanced over at Azazel. “I thought you said this was girl talk.”
“Who, Azazel? He doesn’t count.” Lana waved dismissively at the servant, who bowed and retreated, closing the doors behind him.
The moment they were alone, save for Lana’s favorite boy toy, something shifted in the vampire’s demeanor.
The playful facade fell away, replaced by a sharp, calculating assessment.
“You know,” Lana began, pouring tea with practiced elegance, “I’ve been watching you quite closely since my dear brother brought you home.”
Nadi accepted the cup, careful to keep her expression neutral. “Have you?”
“Mm.” Lana’s smile was all teeth now. “And I must say, I’m impressed. Most humans barely last a week in Raziel’s company before they’re begging for death. Yet here you are, not only surviving but…” She leaned forward, magenta eyes gleaming. “Thriving.”
Nadi sipped her tea, using the moment to compose her response. “I’m stronger than I look. The outer cities are rough.”
“Clearly.” Lana set her own cup down with a soft clink. “But that’s just it, isn’t it? They’re rough. But they aren’t that rough. No rancher’s daughter from the outer cities handles herself the way you did at The Poisoned Serpent.”
Ice slid down Nadi’s spine. So that was it. Lana had been watching her, monitoring her movements.
“You had people there.” She kept her words calm. All the while, she was debating how quickly she could grab the small pistol from her purse and put a bullet between Lana’s eyes.
She could kill Lana fast enough. Azazel was the unknown variable. Would he kill her? Or would he just sit there? Maybe he would even applaud or help her escape. There was no telling.
Lana laughed, the sound like breaking glass. “Oh, Monica—or whatever your name really is—I have eyes everywhere. Did you think I wouldn’t station my own people at Braen’s club when I knew my brother would be sending his new pet there?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nadi kept her voice level, though her heart was racing. “My name is Monica Valan—”
“Please.” Lana cut her off with a dismissive wave. “Let’s not insult each other’s intelligence. Mael may be too soft-hearted—and frankly, too horny—to put two and two together, but I know what you are.”
“And what is that?” Fuck, fuck, fuck!
“A spy.” Lana’s eyes glittered with triumph.
“Though I can’t quite tell who you’re working for.
Not yet. Either Raziel replaced Monica with you, some secret vampire operative he’s been keeping hidden, deciding he wanted nothing to do with whatever little cow they sent along as a sacrifice, or you’re a plant from a rival family, or you’re some new, unknown entity entirely. Either way…”
Nadi said nothing, waiting for the other shoe to drop, and just waited.
Lana leaned back in her chair. “I think it’s absolutely fantastic.”
That, Nadi hadn’t expected. She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Whoever sent you—whatever your purpose—I assume it involves tearing my family apart in some fashion. Either because Raziel wants you to, or because you’re doing it on your own.” Lana’s smile was almost genuine now. “Which aligns perfectly with my own interests.”
Nadi glanced over at Azazel.
“Don’t worry about him.” She waved her hand. “He’s furniture.”
Nadi felt a pang of sympathy for Azazel once more. But she had to focus on her own situation at the moment. Turning her attention back to Lana, she considered the woman’s words. “You want me to tear apart your family?”
“Not my entire family. Just a few… specific members.” Lana traced the rim of her teacup with one perfectly manicured finger. “I have a proposition for you.”
The game board just kept growing more and more complex. “I’m listening.”
“You and Raziel are set to assassinate Braen. A deed that my mother has designed to punish my dear brother for his lack of loyalty. Killing the only one who has ever truly loved him… how wonderful.” Her smile turned sharp.
“But what if, during this confrontation, both men were to tragically perish?”
Nadi kept her expression carefully blank. That was new subtext to process, but she couldn’t do it now. “And how would that benefit me?”
“Mm. I knew I liked you.” Lana chuckled.
“With Raziel gone, his seat at the family table would be empty, wouldn’t it?
” Her eyes gleamed with cold calculation.
“A seat I could ensure goes to his poor, grieving widow. Coupled with Mael’s overtures to you, you would be sitting quite nicely with Raziel dead and gone, wouldn’t you? ”