Page 15 of The Serpent’s Bride (Bloodlines #1)

EIGHT

The day was shaping up to be a real whirlwind. Nadi went back to her room, confused and uncertain after Raziel had abruptly abandoned her by the pool. She would have bet any amount of money on him kissing her in that moment.

Not just… storming off.

What had happened ? What had she done?

Even Ivan had looked bewildered by his boss’s actions. He had simply shrugged at her before going back inside.

She wanted to scream. Just flip the coffee table and scream. But she kept her composure, and decided she’d lock herself in her room to prepare for her bachelorette party.

Thrown by her most hated enemy’s sister.

An enemy that had just been about to kiss her.

An enemy that she…had wanted to kiss her.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! This wasn’t part of the plan.

Okay, fine, she hadn’t gone into the whole scenario with a plan, not really—but if she had, this certainly wouldn’t have been on it.

Pressing the heels of her hands into her cheekbones, she sat on the edge of the bed and let out a long, ragged sigh.

It’d be fine. It’d absolutely be fine. She could get through this. And, hey, maybe it was a good thing that she was attracted to the man that she would soon need to have sex with. Never mind the fact that it was Raziel. The man who had killed her family and countless others.

Sighing, she ran her hands through her hair.

“I can use this.” She took a deep breath. And it was true—this was an upside. Fine, sure, it was putting her whole set of so-called moral values up for debate. But if she was actually going to enjoy fucking him, then…it made things a lot easier.

It felt like she was making lousy excuses, but whatever. Tonight was going to be exhausting—she should focus on survival. Keeping her veins away from all the hungry vampires in the room wasn’t a task she was looking forward to.

Lying down for a nap before the party, she tossed and turned for a while before finally finding a comfortable position.

But as she tried to sleep, her mind stayed locked on one moment.

The feeling of his hand in her hair. The heat of his presence—like sitting near a roaring fire. The smell of his sharp cologne.

She wanted him.

That much was painfully clear.

Don’t worry. He only sees you as a piece of meat. Interchangeable with all the others. You’re nothing special to him.

She repeated that to herself as a mantra as she drifted to sleep.

Nadi decided that “sexy but understated” was going to be her vibe for the evening. It was easier said than done, considering the clothing options that Raziel provided for her were…less than modest.

A red lace blouse that cut down past her cleavage and a pair of too-tight black pants that draped over boots were what she wound up choosing.

For a few reasons—one, the pants were incredibly hard to get on, so hopefully anybody who slipped drugs into her drinks would find them incredibly hard to get off.

Pants were a working woman’s clothes—she expected everyone else would be wearing dresses, but she couldn’t care less.

Two, she could slip her hairpins into her boots. Never go into an unknown situation with known enemies unarmed.

Three, she was wearing Raziel’s colors—a reminder to all those at the party exactly who she “belonged” to, as sickening as it was.

And four, she rather liked how she looked in blood red. It was a good reminder of why she was there.

She was going to murder them all.

Every. Last. One.

Taking a breath, she adjusted her hair in the mirror one final time before heading out of her room for the first time that evening. She’d heard the commotion in the house and knew that she was arriving “fashionably late” to her own party.

But seeing as nobody had come to fucking fetch her, it seemed fair.

The thump of the live jazz music reverberated through the floors as she headed down the hallway and then the stairs to where the rabble was the loudest. About thirty or forty people had come to attend—a mix of vampires and humans.

The grand dining room had been decorated and rearranged for a party, the brass inlay in the walls polished, and no elegance was spared.

An ice sculpture of a large, bat-winged creature glinted in the amber light of the electric fixtures where it stood surrounded by food and alcohol.

Everyone was dressed to the nines, sequins and jewels sparkling like the ice as they moved.

And there was Lana—draped over a man next to her that Nadi recognized as Azazel. A third cousin to the family, and, according to Nadi’s research, Lana’s favorite…pet, for lack of a better word.

He was slim and almost painfully beautiful—with sharp features and bright orange eyes that seemed to catch the light like that of a wolf in the darkness. When he laughed, revealing his fangs, it only made the comparison more apt.

He was dressed in a pair of skin-tight pants, a thin white shirt that was mostly unbuttoned, revealing his various tattoos, and what could be mistaken for ritualistic scars.

Cruelty ran in the family.

Nadi walked up to them, smiling shyly, and lifted her hand in a slight wave. “Hey, Lana.”

“ There you are!” Lana leapt from the sofa to throw her arms around Nadi in a hug. “I was wondering if my brother had tied you to his bed to make sure you couldn’t attend. Everyone! Meet Monica—our soon-to-be sister-in-law!”

The group that had been sitting around Lana—all business partners of the family—half-heartedly greeted her. It was clear they weren’t interested in her in the slightest, save for the lingering stares at her…assets.

Making small talk with a bunch of vampiric mobsters wasn’t high on her list of shit to do that evening, anyway.

“You weren’t kidding.” Azazel smiled at her, crimson-painted lips pulling into a faint, sardonic curl. “The bastard got lucky with this one.”

“Let me get you a drink. What would you like?” Lana was already heading toward the bar. “Talk fast or I choose for you!”

“Uh—old fashioned,” Nadi called after her. “And no drugs.”

“Pah! No fun.” Lana huffed in fake indignance. “But fine. Since you’re the bride .”

“Not a fan?” Azazel asked as he scooted over on the sofa and patted the spot next to him.

There wasn’t a point in pretending it wasn’t inevitable. Nadi sat down next to him, smiling cheerfully and shrugging. “The chemical stuff isn’t for me. I prefer natural.”

“I’m sure Lana brought everything.” He chuckled and draped his arms over the back of the sofa—right behind her. When he started to curl a strand of her hair around her finger, she couldn’t help but go a little tense. “Afraid? Of little old me? You’re sweet.”

“I’m engaged, is all.” She brushed his hand away from her.

He laughed as if that was the cutest thing in the world she could have said. Like a child insisting they knew how the world worked. “You’ll learn.”

Lana came back carrying two drinks. “One boring old fashioned,” she teased as she handed one of the glasses to Nadi. Lana sat down on the other side of Azazel. “I see you two are already getting acquainted.”

“Someone was very keen to remind me that she’s getting married.” Azazel was grinning like the cat who ate the canary.

“Well…can you blame her? She’s not from here, and she’s a human. I’m sure she doesn’t know what our customs are.” There was a wicked glint in Lana’s eyes. The Sweetheart Mistress was plotting something, that much was painfully clear.

“Oh?” Nadi played dumb. She had a sense of where the conversation was going.

“In our family, it’s tradition for a bride-to-be to sleep with a stranger before their wedding. A last hurrah.” Lana reached out and stroked some of Azazel’s chin-length, curly blond hair away from his face to tuck it behind his ear. “It’s rude not to.”

Bullshit. “Is that a vampire thing? Or a…Nostrom thing?” She sipped her drink. Seemed like Lana had stayed true to her word—there wasn’t the usual tang of chemical drugs.

“Does it matter?” Azazel asked.

“I don’t want to be rude, but…also, Raziel asked me not to—y’know, get into the mix with anybody tonight. That’s all.”

“Well, what Raziel doesn’t know about won’t hurt him.

” Lana leaned forward, showing off her own “assets” that were squeezed into a sparkling pink and black sequined dress.

“I bet you could have the pick of any man—or woman—here, but I figured Raziel would cause a fuss, so…I found you someone discreet.” She placed her hand on Azazel’s inner thigh.

The man didn’t flinch, just kept those orange eyes on Nadi.

“I—I mean—I’m sorry, but—” She played up the scared-girl-from-the-farm routine. She didn’t want to have to kill Azazel so early into her game. There was no way she could think of to make it look like an accident. Oops, he fell and landed on that lamp. Repeatedly. Until it bashed in his skull.

“Don’t worry, baby—I’m good at keeping things a secret.” Azazel stood, and took her hand, pulling her up to her feet. “Come on. Before someone else gets a hold of you.”

“I—”

He started pulling her off into the rest of the building.

He wasn’t giving her a choice. She could cause a scene, but that would complicate matters.

Fine. So he dies tonight. She’d have to think fast and come up with a way to hide his corpse.

But it wouldn’t be the first time she’d had to do that in her life.

She was plotting her way forward and out of the situation as Azazel pulled her into one of Raziel’s guest rooms. He shut the door behind them, threw the lock, and let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “ Fuck , I hate her.”

Nadi blinked.

Azazel walked to the bed and threw himself down onto it on his back. He stretched his arms out at his sides before letting out a long groan and shutting his eyes. Hardly the actions of a man trying to seduce a nervous bachelorette.