Chapter 12
TWELVE
The next morning was a strained one. Tensions were high as Nadi fetched breakfast for herself and Raziel and took up a spot by one of the fires in the open area outside of the buildings where the rest of the Iltani clan had gathered.
It was a warm grain with some kind of syrup in it, reminding her a little of oatmeal. But grittier. It wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t terribly good either. She offered a bowl of it to Raziel.
Shockingly, he took it, and began to eat in silence, lost in his own thoughts.
A few other Iltanis were near enough to them to shoot them uncomfortable glances, but at least nobody got up and moved on account of their arrival. At least they weren’t that bitchy about their presence.
But she knew things were going to get uncomfortable when Kalo came over to sit near them. It wasn’t that alone that sent her hackles rising, it was the expression on his face.
It was an expression she knew from her childhood.
He was looking to start a fight.
The question was, with whom?
“So. How’d it feel killing Luciento?”
Well, that answered that fucking question.
Everyone within earshot turned to stare at her. He didn’t want to know why she did it. He didn’t want to even know if she felt guilt over doing it. No, he was asking how it felt. “I—”
“When you put the knife in his neck. When he was offering to save you, to get you out of there alive. You cut his throat. How’d that feel?
” Kalo had the tone of someone asking about the weather.
But in his eyes, he had that glint. That shine of pure and unmistakable evil.
The bastard wanted to throw a match into gasoline and watch the explosion. Just for the laughs.
She knew there was an element of his own revenge in it. There was also more than a little bit of lingering jealousy in it, Nadi was certain. Her choice had been made long ago, and it hadn’t been Kalo.
Even if she might regret it a little now.
No.
That path was long gone. There was no use in regretting the past. The only way was forward.
“It felt like nothing. Is that what you want to hear?” She stared down at her bowl of food.
“He was just another kill. The blade went in, the blade went out, and he died on the floor. Just like everyone who came before him. And just like everyone who’ll come after.
” Finally, she met Kalo’s gaze. “But I had no choice. He knew who I was. And before you say that I could have let him live, you know you’re full of shit.
He would have sold that secret to the highest bidder in the blink of an eye.
And if you honestly think otherwise, you’re lying to yourself and everyone else here. ”
Kalo stared at her.
“I keep trying to warn you, Kalo,” Raziel interjected between mouthfuls of his food. “You have not known my wife for many years.”
“She is not your wife.” Kalo huffed and set down his bowl of food. “Your marriage was a sham.”
“And who are you to declare that?” Raziel laughed. “You weren’t there!”
“You weren’t married by any fae ritual. So down here you aren’t married,” Kalo argued.
Nadi wondered when or if she’d get a say in the discussion.
“And since when does it matter? I’m not fae, for one. And two, she hasn’t lived as a fae for most of her life. She has lived as a human—”
“Because she has had no choice! She wasn’t even wearing her own face or using her own name when you married her—”
“I married her, and I certainly have fucked her enough times to—”
“Will you both shut the fuck up?” Nadi shouted over them both. “It doesn’t matter!”
That now had both Kalo and Raziel staring at her in surprise. Raziel was the first one who spoke. “It doesn’t matter?”
“I—I mean—” she stammered. “It does, it just—”
“Do you feel as though we’re married, Nadi?” he asked her, his voice quiet.
“We’re not doing this here.” She stood and stormed away from the gathering. First Kalo, then Raziel? No. She wasn’t going to have her entire life ripped out and put on display in front of a group of veritable strangers. Strangers who wanted nothing to do with her.
Strangers who were already leaning in toward each other and whispering, gossiping over their argument. Over her reaction. Fuck. Fuck. If she was supposed to be leading the Iltani clan, this wasn’t the way to be doing it.
This was a terrible start. And there was no way that Kalo didn’t know that.
He’d torpedoed it on purpose.
Fuck.
Staring up at the ceiling of the cavern, she let out a long, wavering, heavy sigh. This wasn’t ever going to be her home. The best she could hope for would be to get the Iltanis on her side long enough to help them take out Mael and Lana. After that? Whatever waited for her, it wouldn’t be here.
It would never be here.
Kalo was making that point when he had asked what it felt like to kill Luciento.
She’d killed this future when she’d taken his life. She decided she needed some space. Some air. Some distance. She’d made it exactly twenty feet from the crowd when she heard a voice behind her.
“Nadi, wait.”
Kalo. Of course it was Kalo.
She didn’t turn around. “Go away.”
“I need to apologize.”
That made her stop. Kalo Lohti apologizing was about as common as vampires volunteering for sunrise walks. She turned slowly to find him standing a few feet away, his silver eyes uncharacteristically serious.
She laughed. “For what part? For ensuring I’d never be respected by what remains of the Iltanis? Or for dragging my uncertain marriage with Raziel out into public?”
He had the grace to wince. “For none of it and all of it. That you’re in pain, really.”
“Pain.” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“What do you want me to say, Nadi?” For once, the arrogance was gone from his voice.
“That I’m sorry I wasn’t there when the Nostroms came?
I am. That I didn’t pointlessly die next to the rest of your family?
That I’m sorry you had to become… this to survive?
I am. But I’m not sorry for what I said. ”
She shut her eyes and turned away from him. “And I’m not sorry for what I had to become.”
“I’m just… I thought it wouldn’t hurt to see you with him. But I guess I was wrong.”
There it was.
“Kalo—”
“I know you don’t belong to me,” he said quickly. “But seeing you with that monster, loving him—”
“Kalo.”
Kalo’s smile was sad and knowing. “Your eyes say you do. Every time you look at him. The same way you used to look into the deep dark water when we were children. Like you were seeing something impossible and beautiful and terrifying all at once.”
The comparison hit too close to home. She turned away, staring out at the dark water. “I don’t belong anywhere anymore, Kalo. Not with the fae, not with the humans. I’m caught between worlds, and I don’t fit in either of them.”
“That’s not true.” His voice was gentle now, the way she remembered from those rare moments when he’d dropped his guard as a youth. “And I think you know it. Because you’re not the only one trapped without somewhere to belong. Are you?”
Wait.
What was he implying?
She looked at him with a furrowed brow.
“I don’t want to. But I can’t—” He sighed. Reaching out, he put his hands on her upper arms, stepping in close to her. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that, in a—”
“I hate to interrupt.” Raziel. He had come from nowhere out of the darkness between two of the buildings, his red eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. His expression was unreadable, but Nadi could see the tension in his shoulders, the careful control he was maintaining.
“We were having a private conversation, vuampi.”
“Yes, I noticed. Very private. Very… personal.” Raziel was clearly displeased as he turned to Nadi. “There’s something else I need to discuss with you. Privately.”
The emphasis on the last word was unmistakable. Kalo’s expression hardened. “Is now a good time for secrets?”
“It is always a good time for secrets,” Raziel replied without shame.
But more and more, Nadi was wondering if that was truly the case.
Or if secrets weren’t the cause of all her grief from the very beginning.
The walk back to their cramped room felt longer than usual. Nadi could feel the weight of Raziel’s gaze on her, could sense the dangerous tension radiating from him like heat from a forge. His silence was somehow worse than his usual cutting remarks—a storm gathering strength before it broke.
She kept her eyes forward, focusing on the maze of metal walkways and reinforced walls that made up the warehouse interior.
Anything to avoid looking at him directly.
Because she knew what she would see there—possession and jealousy wrapped in carefully controlled fury.
And she wasn’t ready to deal with whatever confrontation was brewing behind those crimson eyes.
When they reached their door, Raziel gestured for her to enter first with mock courtesy. The moment she stepped inside the small space, she heard the distinct sound of the lock engaging behind them.
“Sit down,” he said quietly.
She turned to face him, crossing her arms defensively. “I’m fine standing.”
“That wasn’t a request.” His voice held that particular quality that made grown vampires tremble—the tone that suggested compliance was strongly recommended for one’s continued health.
Nadi felt her spine stiffen. “Don’t use that voice with me, Raziel.”
“Then sit. Down.” Crimson eyes bored through her. Each word was precisely enunciated, carrying a weight that seemed to press against her bones.
For a moment, they stood there in a battle of wills—her defiance meeting his implacable authority.
But the room was too small, and he was too close, and memories of what his anger could do were too fresh in her mind.
With a frustrated sigh, she perched on the edge of the makeshift mattress, glaring up at him.
“Better.” He leaned against the door, blocking any hope of escape. “Now. Tell me, Nadi. Are you having second thoughts about our arrangement? About the choices you’ve made?”
“No.” The word came out too quickly, too forcefully. She winced.