Chapter 19
WHIPLASH
Poppy
Bronte tenses, all of his limbs locking into place. His attention is magnetized to the assassin. He’s not just pissed; he’s livid.
As am I. For the first time in too long, I was actually enjoying myself.
“You look exquisite, printsessa,” Nik drawls. “You didn’t have to dress up just for me.”
“The only person I ever dress for is me.” I sip my drink and drape my arm over Bronte’s broad shoulders. “Hope you don’t mind the company.”
“The more the merrier, no? Brings back old memories.”
It does, but I don’t admit it aloud. We’ve been in this room together countless times. Watching the show while touching and teasing each other. Inviting the actors to join us when their performances were done.
Nik dons his cocky grin as my jaw remains shut. “I’m aware I interrupted a moment, so I’ll be quick.” He strolls over with slow steps, pausing a few short feet away. From the inner lining of his jacket, he draws something ivory and holds it out for me to take it. “Look familiar?”
“Unfortunately.”
I take the demonic skull mask, feeling Bronte’s eyes shift down with mine. The ice in his limbs thaws. He skims his fingertips over the bone sewn onto a plain black balaclava. Unlike the poppet we found in Margot’s belongings at St. Aurelius’s, he recognizes the mask.
“Context, Volkov,” Bronte growls. “Spit it out.”
For the first time since slinking in here, the assassin looks at the coroner. A still moment passes in which neither of them blink. Hell, I don’t think they even breathe as they remain trapped in this impressively hot yet entirely immature glaring contest.
“We don’t have time for this alphahole bullshit.” I wave the mask like a white flag between them. “Nikolai, explain.”
Nik splits his eyes from Bronte and sews them onto me. “Someone slipped that under my apartment door the morning I called. Vlad and Kai received the same before joining Leviathan’s ranks. Along with this.” He hands over a small card with a series of coordinates stamped in the middle.
My lips purse. “What is this?"
"By my understanding, it's a sort of invitation. If I go, I'm agreeing to be a member of Leviathan. The coordinates lead to an old graveyard outside the city. I debated going—”
“Shocker,” utters Bronte.
Nik frowns. “To spy on them from the inside. I didn’t want to make any major decisions without your blessing, printsessa.”
It takes me a second to fully process his admission. “You’re not leaving us for them?”
“Do you really think I’d be here if I was?”
“I don’t understand. We killed your cousins, yet you’re helping us…?”
Nik’s laugh cracks like a whip. “Oh, I pray those idiots are getting pineapples shoved up their asses by Lucifer himself as we speak.”
Bronte’s mouth twitches like he’s suppressing his own laugh.
“You’re being sincere,” I prod, still unsure. Nik was never close with his cousins, but he has no family left. Because of me, he’s the last of his bloodline. “You actually want to play double agent?”
Nik’s grin fades with his militaristic nod. “You have my word, for what good it’s worth from a Volkov.” He says that last part bitterly, with a hint of self-loathing I don’t miss.
“How do we know you won’t fuck us over?” Bronte demands.
“You don’t, Bourbon. Get over it.”
Bronte snickers, the crystal in his grip cracking with a distressed chink.
To me, Nik adds, “I’m not asking you to trust me. Whether or not you do changes nothing. Either way, Leviathan will pay for what they’ve done.”
I set the mask and invitation aside, sipping my drink and relishing its burn. “Why are you more committed to my family than your own?”
Nik approaches the bar cart and pours himself a knuckle of vodka.
“My cousins were vermin that did not understand the meaning of a promise. Our grandfathers made oaths to the Morgensterns. Those oaths were never meant to die with them.” He downs his drink in one swallow then plops the glass back down.
“Vlad and Kai did what they thought our fathers were too cowardly to do. In my opinion, they got what they deserved.”
I have no reason not to believe him. Unlike his turncoat cousins, he hasn’t made a single move to attack me. My allies are scarce. I can’t let my pride stand between us.
“We’ll look into the street cams, see if we can identify the person who paid you a visit. My concern, though, is what happens if you decline the offer. Leviathan is unpredictable.”
Nik’s scarred eyebrow lifts expectantly. “Which brings us back to my proposal.”
Bronte toys with the mask, sharing a somber look with me. I know what he’s asking himself: What if Margot didn’t run away? What if she’s dead? This isn’t about my family or some lost heirloom anymore. This is about slaying a monster before it can slaughter any more innocents.
But I can’t fight back without an army of my own.
I glance at the invitation. No matter what history I share with Nik, I can’t afford to lose him.
He’s my best assassin. I care more about protecting his life than risking it.
I was never skilled at strategy, but I know when to fall back instead of charging forward at the expense of my most precious pawns.
If I had the strength, I’d stage a coup. Storm those coordinates, battle Leviathan to the death. But I have no warriors. The last thing I can afford right now is losing what little power I have left.
“No spy games.” I knock my drink, letting it scorch the dread from my stomach. “Lay low until I say otherwise.”
“As you wish.” Nik bows his neck and moves for the exit.
“Nikolai.” He halts, casting a questioning frown over his shoulder. “Your family was once part of Leviathan. Do you know anything that can help us?”
“I wish I did, but you know as much as me. There were no stories told to us as they were to you. Shame, I suspect, silenced my kin from sharing the greatest failure of our forebears who abandoned their sacred vows to seek power over yours.”
I nod, heavy with defeat. “Don’t go home. Leviathan knows where you live. Crash with Circe at Indigo. Don’t tell anyone else where you are. I’ll clear your name with Papa and pull the headhunt for you.”
An arrogant grin pulls his mouth into a lopsided smile that once took my breath away. “Careful, printsessa. Your heart is showing.”
“You should count your lucky stars that I still have one. Or I’d kill you where you fucking stand.”
Nik’s expression sobers. With a final dip of his chin, the door shuts quietly behind him.
I sag against Bronte, my body caving to gravity and the exhaustion of my pounding headache. “That was…illuminating.”
“Indeed.” In a sudden yet fluid movement, he rises, forcing me to stumble back onto my feet as he aims for the door.
“Wait!” I catch his elbow, turning him half around. “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
I sputter, confused. “But we came together.”
“Uber exists for a reason.”
“We need to talk about Margot and Leviathan. What’s our next move?”
“I’ll talk to Emi about Margot. You can take Volkov’s stalker.” His chin jerks toward the invitation. “It wouldn’t hurt to scope that out, too.”
“Don’t you want to help?”
“You don’t need my help.”
“We work better together, don’t we?”
“We’re not a team, Poppy. We’re not even friends.” He shrugs me off and swiftly buttons his jacket. “Don’t mistake this alliance for anything more than it is.”
I blink, whiplash cracking me across the face. “I’m sorry, was I hallucinating when we almost kissed?”
“No.”
“Then what changed? Not half an hour ago, you were all over me.”
“Pheromones. Tricky little bastards.”
I scoff, crossing my arms. “Why are you pissed? Was it Nik?”
“No.”
“Was it me? Did I say something?”
Bronte pinches the bridge of his nose with a nettled sigh. “It’s late, and I have back-to-back graveyard shifts at the morgue this weekend. Are we done here?”
“No, we’re not done until I say—”
My purse buzzes.
I hiss a curse, whipping out my phone. It’s Bax, reporting a fire cooking his lab and everything in it. By the time I’m done calming him down and doling out orders, I turn back to Bronte, ready to peel his layers until I get to the core of his wrath before it festers any more than it already has.
But he’s gone.
And I’ve never felt more alone.