Chapter 19
NINETEEN
Raziel was getting ready to leave and meet with Mael as the door to his office swung open at an alarming speed.
Nadi, wearing Monica’s face, stormed into his office, slammed the door behind her, and marched into his attached private bathroom.
Grinning, he couldn’t help it. “How was my sis—”
“Shut the fuck u—” Nadi’s glamor shimmered and faded as she collapsed to her knees in front of his toilet, retching violently.
Raziel was on his feet in a split second, moving before he even processed he had done so. Running to her side, he saw what was happening.
Blood. She was retching up blood into the toilet. He let out a long, ragged sigh. “This was bound to happen. Lana made you drink?”
The poor, haggard-looking fae nodded weakly, her head resting on the edge of the toilet as she reached up to flush the contents of the bowl.
Taking the tie from his hair, he gently pulled her long black strands into a ponytail at the base of her neck. Then, he ran the faucet and filled a cup of cold water as well as taking a washcloth and dampening it.
He had taken care of sick humans in his day. Yes, he had learned how to care for them because he had wanted to prolong their suffering—but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how.
“She was testing me.” Nadi’s voice was ragged. She was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. The poor thing had suffered for a long time, holding down that much blood for who knew how long. “To see if I was actually a v—”
Wincing, he rubbed her back as she retched a second time into the toilet. That time, he flushed it for her once she finished and sat down on the marble floor of the half-bath.
Pressing the damp, cool compress to the back of her neck, he handed her another one to wipe her lips with. “And?”
“I don’t know if I passed. Lana’s not an idiot.” She let out a shaky breath. “Why couldn’t someone in your family be stupid?”
“Trust me.” Raziel chuckled. “I ask myself that question regularly.” He handed her the cup of water, noting how her hands still trembled. “Small sips. Let your stomach settle first.”
She accepted the cup, muttering thanks, and he found himself cataloging every detail of her condition—the pallor of her skin, the fine tremor in her fingers, the way she held herself as if her stomach still cramped. His sister had put her through hell, and for what? A test? A game?
“She had fresh blood, Raziel.” Nadi’s voice cracked with remembered revulsion. “She talked about how the donor was ‘spirited,’ how fear adds flavor. How he had screamed as he died. I had to sit there and pretend to enjoy it while she watched my reactions.”
The rage in his chest crystallized into something sharper, more dangerous. Lana’s casual cruelty was nothing new, in fact it was something he himself often enjoyed, but directing it at Nadi felt like a personal violation. If anyone was going to make Nadi suffer, it was him, after all. “How much?”
“Three full glasses. Maybe more.” She took another tentative sip of water. “She offered me a fourth glass when I couldn’t finish the third fast enough. Said something about it getting cold.”
Raziel’s hands clenched into fists before he could stop himself. The anger that rampaged through him was a surprise. When had his protective instincts toward Nadi become so pronounced? When had her suffering begun to bother him?
He loved her.
But that didn’t mean anything to a creature like him. Surely.
“The worst part wasn’t the blood,” Nadi continued, leaning back against the cool bathroom wall.
“It was the interrogation that came with it. She questioned everything—my feeding habits, my relationship with you, my memories of being human. Every answer felt like walking through a minefield. It’s one thing to have to hold up an act.
But she knows. She knows I’m not Monica, and she wants to know what I am.
Whatever happens, after the wedding tomorrow, I think this act is over. ”
“What did you tell her?” He kept his voice level, though internally he was already calculating the damage, the potential exposure. But he felt the crushing suspicion that she was right.
“The truth, where I could. About the enhanced senses, the overwhelming nature of the transformation.” Nadi closed her eyes, still looking pale and shaky. “But when she asked about… intimate feeding, about you and me…”
“Ah.” Understanding dawned, along with a fresh wave of anger. “She was fishing for information about our bond.”
Of course she was. Lana would want to know how deep the connection ran, whether it could be exploited or needed to be severed entirely. The thought of his sister probing into the most private aspects of his relationship with Nadi made his jaw clench.
Nadi opened her eyes to look at him, and he could see the exhaustion there, the strain of maintaining her deception under such pressure. “The question is, does she think I’m just a spy, a fae shapeshifter, or something else entirely?”
If Lana suspected that Nadi wasn’t truly a vampire, there was no other option but for her to be fae. And if she was fae? Everything was over for both of them.
“We’ll know soon enough. Survival requires adaptation.
And if there is one thing you are good at, it’s that.
” He helped her to her feet, steadying her when she swayed slightly.
His hands lingered on her arms, reluctant to let go until he was certain she was stable.
“I’m about to leave to find out where Mael stands in all this and what he wants me to do.
The question all this raises is what Lana plans to do with her suspicions. ”
“She’ll watch me more closely at the wedding, for one.” Nadi leaned against the sink. “Test me again, probably. Maybe try to separate us to see how I react.”
“Or she might decide you’re too dangerous to keep alive.
” The words came out more matter-of-fact than he felt.
The possibility of losing Nadi—of his sister deciding to eliminate her—sent a cold spike of fear through him that he couldn’t entirely suppress.
“If she suspects you are more of a threat to her than a potential weapon for her…”
“Then we move up our timeline on her death.” Nadi straightened, some of her natural determination returning. “We can’t wait for the perfect moment if there might not be one.”
“No.” The refusal was immediate, instinctive. He’d spent too many years planning this revenge to let fear derail it now. “We stick to the plan. Changing course now, when we’re this close, is more dangerous than maintaining our position. Mael comes first.”
“Even if Lana exposes me?”
“Especially then.” He moved closer, his hands settling on her shoulders.
Through the thin fabric of her dress, he could feel the warmth of her skin, the steady rhythm of her breathing.
She was alive, safe, still with him. “Because if she tries to expose you publicly, it means she’s confident in her position.
Overconfident. And overconfidence creates opportunities. ”
He watched understanding dawn in her dark eyes, saw the moment she grasped what he was suggesting.
“You want her to make a move against me.”
“I want her to reveal her hand,” he corrected. The idea of using Nadi felt wrong, but strategically, it was sound. “Right now, we don’t know who else is involved in her schemes, what resources she has, or how far she’s willing to go. If she acts against you tomorrow, we’ll learn all of that.”
“You’re using me as bait.”
The accusation in her voice stung, though he couldn’t deny its accuracy. “Using both of us as bait, because if she moves against you, she’ll have to move against me as well. We’re too closely associated for her to eliminate one without considering the other.”
It was true, though not for the reasons his family would assume. They were bound together now by more than alliance or convenience. The thought of Nadi facing Lana’s machinations alone made him want to abandon all subtlety and simply kill his sister tonight.
“If she corners me at the wedding, Raziel—I’m going to do what I have to do.” Black, opalescent eyes met his. There was no deterring her.
It would ruin everything he’d worked toward. But it would keep her safe. “Do what you must do to survive, Nadi. I can’t ask you to do anything else.”
Nadi was quiet for a long moment, and he found himself studying her face, looking for signs of fear or doubt. When she spoke again, her voice was steadier. “There’s something else. The seamstress who interrupted us—she is fae. Or from the Wild. I saw her at Braen’s club when I was spying there.”
“Are you positive?”
She nodded. “She had that… it’s hard to describe, we walk differently, move differently, those of us who grew up in the Wild. Last I saw her, she was running toward the basement of captives with a gun. The ones you said were missing when you sent your men after them.”
The revelation sent his mind racing. Fae infiltrators, Lana’s suspicions, his family’s political maneuvering—this was getting too complicated, even for his love of the game. “You’re certain?”
“As certain as I can be without having questioned her.” She pushed away from the sink, looking more like her normal self with each passing moment. “But who’s she working for? Or do you think she’s acting alone?”
“Tomorrow is going to be even more chaotic than we anticipated.” Raziel ran a hand through his hair, scrambling to think of a way to adapt to the new variable. “Which could work to our advantage, if we play it correctly.”
“Or get us all killed.”
“There’s always that risk.” He smiled, though there was no humor in it. The stakes kept climbing, the potential for catastrophe growing with each revelation. “The question is whether you’re willing to take it.”
He watched her face as she considered, seeing the moment she made her choice. There was steel in her spine, fire in her eyes. “You think I’m backing out now, Serpent?”