Page 48 of Kiss of Seduction (Court of Chains #1)

“Lady Natalya,” he said as she approached his table. He was handsome and well-groomed, with black hair and brown skin. He started to extend his hand but then stopped himself. “Right. I was told you’re not one for handshakes.”

“You’re well informed, Mr. Khara,” Natalya said, sitting down and glancing at the nearby tables. The place even smelled rich, and it was full of humans. “This isn’t my usual scene.”

Hasan laughed. “I have heard of your scene. I suspect this is a bit more… airy than your Court. Not as much leather. Fewer chains.”

“Airy, huh?” Natalya flashed her teeth in a sharp grin. She would have lit up her eyes too, but she was wearing sunglasses like she always did in public. Due to the eccentric clientele that frequented the Court of Chains, she could go without them in the high-rise, but not in this place.

“I enjoy a good view.” He looked at the garden as he said it, not at her. Seemed Hasan was more charming than sleazy. “And I figured you would feel better out in the open. In public.”

A glass of red wine arrived for her. She ignored it, just as Hasan ignored his. He couldn’t drink it, and she didn’t want hers.

“Why did you want to meet with the Chains?” she asked. “That it can’t be handled over the phone suggests it’s important.”

“That it does. And it is. I’ve heard a lot about your Court. About what it can do. Unorthodox, sure, but effective. It makes a man curious.”

“What about a woman? It was your Queen who called for this meeting.”

“Yes, but I suggested we have it here.” His expression was almost apologetic. “I knew Aleksander was Court-bound.”

Natalya gave him a lethal smile. “If you wanted a date, there are easier ways to go about it.”

“I have a feeling you’d rip me in half if I made the offer.” Hasan smirked. He wasn’t afraid. “From what I’ve heard, you’d be successful in the attempt. There are few beings more powerful than greater fiends.”

“Then let me tell you, we don’t have much patience for trickery.

Some of us don’t have patience at all. If you wanted to see me, there are easier ways to accomplish it.

Ways that involve you approaching the Court rather than forcing me out of my domain.

” Natalya leaned over the table. “I don’t like to be forced. ”

Hasan looked her over with newfound interest. Then apologetically.

“I didn’t think of that. Greater fiends know of forced indenture better than anyone. I apologize.”

He was being genuine, and it dimmed Natalya’s anger somewhat. He was testing her, though for what reason she didn’t know yet.

“What do you know about Varro Visconti?” Hasan said. Natalya sneered.

“Enough that I’d like him staked.”

“Then we are of a similar mindset. The East Coast has prospered under my Maker. Queen Zahra is generous, as generous as she can be. And she abhors slavery, human or otherwise. Varro disagrees, as do most other Night Regents.”

Natalya thought of Evie and the tattoo Varro had marked her with. She clenched her fist to keep the anger out of her voice.

“He’s also a terrible host. I visited him a few months past. He planned on killing me then.”

“I heard stories of a stolen slave.” Hasan’s brows furrowed. “I thought the Chains didn’t allow the practice.”

“We don’t,” Natalya said sharply. “The woman helped us escape. Had we left her, she would’ve been killed or tortured for assisting us. I couldn’t allow that. She’s been given her freedom.”

Just thinking about Evie’s life under Varro made it feel like Natalya’s blood was boiling. If Evie hadn’t warned her in that guest room, Natalya might have left her behind. And then met an end to a group of vampire goons when they left the estate.

She sometimes forgot that Evie, at her most frightened and broken, had been brave enough to save her life.

Hasan regarded her keenly, trying to spot signs of deception in what she was saying. When he found none, he ran a finger along the edge of his wine glass.

“Your Court is expanding. Slowly but steadily. You are not like the Courts of Night, Wolf, and Winter, who can exist alongside one another in the same space. You demand complete subjugation from all within your domain. I am curious how far you’d like your influence to reach.”

“Far enough to house our members safely,” Natalya said earnestly. She gave him a wry grin. “We have no plans for world domination.”

“What about plans for the Heartlands?” Hasan asked. Natalya frowned at the question.

“You seem more curious about it than I, Hasan.”

His black eyes turned hard. It was the first sign of anger she’d seen in him. She thought she’d offended him until he started to speak.

“Varro is a blight on our kind. And he hates you. He was willing to give Zahra Ohio and Alabama for her help in toppling you.”

“A generous offer.”

“We’re not working with that snake,” Hasan said hatefully. Then he calmed. “If he was to fall, I suspect the Court of Chains wouldn’t see it as a tragedy.”

Natalya cocked her head. She had a feeling where this was going but couldn’t quite believe it.

“You’re right.”

“Is war something opposed by Aleksander?” Hasan raised an eyebrow. “Or his second?”

“Not if it means killing snakes.”

“The East Coast tires of having a serpent as a neighbor. We’d delight in having some Chains in our arsenal should we wish to cut off its head. So to speak.”

Natalya stared at him, momentarily stunned with realization. Hasan and his Queen were talking about war. About killing Varro. The East Coast was making a play for the Heartlands territory.

Natalya stayed silent until she was sure her surprise wouldn’t show in her voice.

“And what would the Chains get for such a service?”

“Illinois and Wisconsin. We cannot affect the other Courts, obviously, but Night will rescind control. The states would be yours.”

That was more than generous. That was a bloody gift.

“I cannot make decisions without my King,” Natalya said, but she smiled as she spoke. “Though I have a feeling he’d be interested.”

“That pleases me. It seems my decision to call on you rather than Aleksander was fruitful.” Hasan returned her smile. Natalya narrowed her eyes, even though Hasan couldn’t see it.

“You wanted me here to ensure fiendish tempers don’t tilt towards unneeded havoc. Didn’t you?”

“And because of the situation with the slave. It worried Zahra, and so it worried me.”

Natalya thought of Evie sleeping in her arms. Of Evie kneeling on the floor for her. Of the purple pendant Natalya could have easily thrown away, but which was still in her pocket, despite Evie vehemently saying she didn’t want to be Claimed.

“No reason to worry.”

Hasan smiled more genuinely than he had before.

“I would see you and your King about this tomorrow night if you’d allow it. We can talk with less pretense when surrounded by Chains, wouldn’t you say?”

Natalya returned the smile. Then she felt daring and held her hand out to Hasan.

“I thought you didn’t let anyone touch you,” he said.

“I don’t want to be impolite.” She grinned in a way she knew was fiendish. “I’ll go easy on you.”

Though he hesitated, it wasn’t as much as he could have done. Hasan slowly closed his hand around hers, stiffening when her influence rushed through him. It wasn’t painful, but it would be strange. No creature could be entirely immune to it other than her summoner.

No one except Evie.

Hasan grinned as he withdrew his hand. “Now, that is interesting.”

There was a click. A mechanical sound echoed half a dozen times. Not near, but recognizable. Hasan heard it at the same time as she did.

It didn’t save him.

A torrent of gunfire rained down on their table, shattering the glasses and piercing into Hasan and Natalya. The shots tore through her, painfully and sudden, but then the sensation lessened. Hasan wasn’t so lucky.

He fell to the ground, first groaning and then screaming. Several bullet holes, oozing blood, littered his body. Silver.

A trap. Or an ambush? Or maybe just awful luck.

The patrons of the restaurant started panicking. People rushed to the exits just as figures wearing masks only showing their black eyes descended on the restaurant garden. They ignored the humans, letting them escape.

They didn’t want witnesses. They wanted her and Hasan.

One of the vampires stalked toward Hasan. He had a sharpened stake in one hand. As he raised it, Hasan’s eyes widened in fear.

“Varro sends his regards,” the man said.

Natalya recognized his voice. She would have known it anywhere. She wanted to murder the man behind that voice.

She threw herself over Hasan as the masked Stefano brought the stake low. It pierced into her shoulder, hurting and burning. It would have incapacitated a vampire. It barely slowed her down.

Snarling, she surged on Stefano, grabbing his wrist and overloading his senses. It forced him to his knees. She would have ripped his head off, but more vampires were moving in, so she shoved him away instead.

There were many of them. Too many. But Hasan had guards nearby. She’d noticed them when she first arrived at the restaurant. She only needed to hold Varro’s hitmen off until they got there.

A dreadful thought entered her mind that maybe the guards had already been disposed of.

Standing over the now-seizing Hasan, she incapacitated any vampires that came near.

With a look or a touch, she sent them backing away in terror or made them fall to the ground, unable to move.

Some—the ones who staggered at her feet rather than away—she tore to pieces.

She was fully satiated, and the violence came so easily.

But it was draining her, and it was draining her fast.

She was about to pick Hasan up and just make a run for it when the loud crack of a shotgun being fired rung through the garden. A cascade of tiny, stinging pellets hit her back. Then they seared. Then they felt like flames.

Staggering forward, Natalya grabbed the back of a chair to keep upright. There was another shot, more pain. She fell to the ground.

“Rock salt shells,” Stefano said. He’d gotten to his feet, sounding triumphant behind his mask. “Infused with sage, garlic, and clove. Of course.”

He pulled out a knife and stalked towards her, stabbing the blade into her side. The weapon sunk in to the hilt.

The bright pain that pierced through her was all-consuming. It didn’t even make her scream. It was too great for that. That type of pain could only be caused by one thing.

“Steel quenched in sage-infused saltwater,” Stefano snarled in her ear. “We know how to hurt you. We know, you unholy whore.”

If he had aimed higher, he would have hit her heart and killed her. Stefano knew what he was doing. He’d missed on purpose.

“Grab her,” Stefano said, waving his men forward.

They approached hesitantly. A wise decision, as Natalya’s current pained state would activate all her defenses to the point where just touching her skin would bring searing pain.

But she had little energy left. If siphoned completely, her defenses would vanish, and she’d be helpless against them.

The distant sound of running feet made the vampires pause. Stefano cursed.

“Never mind what Fane said.” Stefano tore off her jacket and then ripped the back of her dress to pieces. “Take it, for fuck’s sake.”

There was sudden bright and brief light, like from a camera flash, and realization dawned as to what this was, at least in part. Stefano had bared her back and sides. He was photographing her marks.

It would be useless. Unless part of an active circle, fiendish marks could only live in flesh or memory. If not inked in hide or skin, they would burn away in just a few minutes. A photo was worthless.

Stefano clearly didn’t know that. His intention spurred her into rage.

Stefano started to move away, and Natalya summoned the last of her strength only out of fury. She grabbed his ankle, pushing enough pain and suffering into his body that it would have killed a human in an instant. It caused Stefano to fall unconscious.

Natalya started dragging her way towards him. She wanted him dead. She wanted to tear out his ribs and crush his cold, cruel heart in her hands.

Her wish wasn’t granted. Before she could reach Varro’s spawn, his men picked him up and ran off.

She was faintly aware there were people around her. Voices calling Hasan’s name. He was still seizing on the ground. His guards had arrived.

“The Court of Chains.” Natalya pulled the knife from her side, screaming as it exited. She was covered in black ichor, and her body shivered from pain. Salt was still embedded in her back.

“What, ma’am?” one of the guards said.

Natalya pushed herself to her feet. How she was able to, she didn’t know. The agony rushing through her was so overwhelming it blocked out all other sensations. She was faintly aware her marks would be partially visible and turned so the guards wouldn’t see.

“Get us to the Court of Chains.”