Page 20 of The Serpent’s Bride (Bloodlines #1)

“Everyone who is anyone, or wishes to be anyone, will be in attendance. You are—exactly as you’ve stated—a prop.

Smile. Shake hands. Be gracious. Defer to Raziel and the rest of us in all things.

Be beautiful and charming. Do not drink too much and do not eat too much.

” Volencia stood, smoothing a hand down her dress before lighting her cigarette, taking a lazy drag from it, and exhaling the smoke.

“Do all this, and I will see that Raziel is…as kind to you as he is capable of being.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Nadi kept her gaze on the mirror as the attendants kept buzzing about her. “I will do my best.”

“See that you do, girl.” With that, the older woman was gone.

Nadi shut her eyes and let out a wavering breath the moment Volencia had exited the room and she heard the door click shut.

“I fucking hate that bitch,” one of the attendants said, looking up at her from where she was kneeling, pinning the hem of the train. “She is the absolute worst .”

Nadi laughed. “I’m not gonna disagree.”

“I’m sorry you just have to stand there and take it. And—and it’s so sad—your father sold you to them? The Nostroms?” The woman frowned as she went back to pinning the hem. “I don’t know how you can do it.”

“I’ve dealt with worse, believe it or not.”

And that much was true. She had dealt with worse. But something told her, that little unsettled feeling at the back of her neck…that it might not be true for much longer.

Nadi had hoped to spend the night hiding in “her” room. The following day was the wedding, and she had little desire to interact with anybody. But when one of Raziel’s minions came to fetch her for dinner, she knew it wasn’t a request—it was an order.

She changed into something that she could fight in if necessary, touched up her makeup, and, with a sigh, headed out of her room.

Not like she stood a chance against Raziel in a fight.

That much was painfully clear with how they had left things the previous night.

He was right—he hadn’t left a bruise on her throat.

But the feeling of his fingers wrapped around her neck lingered, and she found herself absentmindedly rubbing where he had gripped her.

She found him sitting alone at a table by the railing that overlooked his back yard.

He was toying with another golden coin, and she watched as it flickered in the light of the two moons.

The Father and Mother were both out, one bright and white and the other black.

Most people couldn’t see the light it gave out.

But she was fae—she could see it as clear as the sun.

And it broke her heart that vampires and humans missed how beautiful it really was.

Approaching the table, she hesitated before pulling out her own chair to sit. His red eyes were gazing out to the darkened city beyond the walls of fake paper and metal shrubbery that kept his home as private as possible. He looked so lost in thought, she wondered if he even knew she had sat down.

They sat in silence for a long moment before she couldn’t take it anymore. “I figured you’d be out partying.”

A huff that could have been mistaken for a single, silent laugh was all she got in response at first. One of his staff came up a second later to serve them.

Steak—and basically raw, by the look of it—with a side of roasted potatoes and green beans.

Red wine accompanied it—poured from two bottles, as his was likely the bloodwine mixture that he preferred.

“Your mother is insisting I wear a shawl to hide my birthmark.” She picked up the fork and knife and sliced off a piece of the steak.

The middle was almost blue, it was so undercooked.

But she didn’t mind. Fae had no problem eating meat.

“But I did win the debate with the stylist about leaving my hair down tomorrow.”

Another long stretch of silence. He had still failed to even look at her. Finally, he spoke. “What do you think of my mother?”

She had a choice. Honesty or a lie. A lie would be seen as just pandering. But was that what he wanted? With a breath, she picked up her red wine to sip it, glad it was missing the tang of blood. “Between us? I think she hates me. And I believe it might be mutual.”

That earned her another half-laugh. “She is protective of her children.”

“I will do everything I can not to get on her bad side.” Right until the moment she stuck a knife between the woman’s ribs.

“That is wise.” He finally reached for his own glass of wine and sipped it.

Silence.

Maybe it was curiosity that drove her forward.

Maybe it was a need to end the awkward silence.

The third option was unthinkable.

“What’s wrong?”

He laughed for real that time, though it was empty and mirthless. It was then that he finally looked at her, those red eyes regarding her with a haughty kind of disinterest. “Don’t insult me by pretending you care.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Because I don’t know you. Nothing more than rumors and our few interactions that have been…uh…mixed.” She rubbed her throat.

His smile was that of a shark smiling at his prey. Too smooth for its own good.

“But whether we like it or not, tomorrow we’re going to be married. And while I’m fairly sure you’re planning on me not lasting longer than a month, I’d like to try.” She went back to her steak, cutting off another cube.

“Try what?”

She gestured between the two of them with her fork. “This.”

“Why?” He arched an eyebrow.

It was her turn to huff a laugh. She smiled at him as if he were the idiot this time.

“Because while I’m not afraid to die, Raziel—I don’t want to.

I’d like to keep living. And…this whole lifestyle you and your family have.

It’s fascinating. And maybe I don’t…know if I want to be turned.

But I certainly don’t like the alternative.

Being brought to your ancestral home as a sacrifice is… not on my to-do list.”

“I wish you understood what you were saying.” He leaned back in his chair to sip his wine. He had yet to touch his meal.

“I know more than you might think.” She had to get him to trust her—maybe even like her, just a little.

Without that, there was no way she’d live long enough, or get close enough, to complete her mission.

“My father, while he can’t hold a candle to the lot of you, had plenty of shady deals.

Yours aren’t the first knuckles I’ve cleaned blood from.

And if that’s what it takes to survive, so be it. ”

Raziel leaned forward then, resting his elbows on the table, his crimson gaze boring into her like she were a butterfly beneath pins in a collection. “Knowing about it and being capable of it are two different things.”

Picking up her steak knife, she gestured at Hank where he was standing some ten feet away. Raziel was rarely without at least one of his bodyguards. Ivan must have the night off. “Where do you want me to stab him?”

His laugh this time was finally genuine. “You’re playing a game for adults, child.”

Standing, she smiled at him sweetly. “I’ve been putting down cattle in the slaughterhouse since the moment I was old enough to walk. And these were creatures that I raised—that I named. That I loved. You don’t think I have it in me to put a knife in your friend?”

“Boss?” Hank clearly wasn’t a fan of this. “You really gonna let this bitch stab me?”

Raziel ignored Hank and spoke only to her. “I don’t think you have what it takes, girl.” He leaned back in his chair, picking up his wine glass and swirling the liquid thoughtfully. “But go ahead and try.”

“Boss.” Hank shook his head. “I don’t?—”

Walking up to Hank, Nadi kept her approach casual until she reached a few feet from him. Hank shifted his stance, ready to defend himself.

He was so much bigger than her. But she was fast. She lunged as if she were going to slash his arm, and he moved to block her—which let her sink the knife into his side. Not far—only a half an inch—but far enough.

“ Fuck! ” Hank jumped back. Touching his side in disbelief, his hand came back with that inky, black-red blood that was the telltale sign of a vampire. “Shit, you stupid little?—”

Raziel was howling in laughter. He slapped the table before standing and approaching the scene. “That was better entertainment than any strip club you could have planned for a bachelor party. Go get yourself fixed up, Hank.”

“But she—” Hank argued.

“Oh, come on. You’ve had worse scuffles after a few too many drinks with Ivan.” Raziel rolled his eyes. “You’re just mad because she got you fair and square. Go on.”

“Yeah, boss.” Hank grunted and walked away, muttering to himself as he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Raziel approached Nadi, holding out his hand for the knife. She handed it to him, handle forward, and wondered if he was going to slash her throat open in retribution.

Instead, he lifted the knife to his lips and slowly, sensually, licked the gore from the blade. All the while, he kept his red eyes on her. He tossed the knife aside, and it clattered to the floor.

He took a step toward her.

She held her ground, staring at him in defiance. “I told you.”

“Stabbing a man is different than making them suffer—than taking their life. But I’ll admit…that was a thing of beauty.” He crooked a finger underneath her chin, tilting her head up to his as he took another step forward, closing the distance between them.

“Don’t underestimate me.”

“Yes…I admit I might have done just that.” He lowered his head toward hers, his breath hot as it pooled against her cheek. His other hand snaked around her lower back and pulled her flush against him. He grunted.

She felt his desire pressing against her. He had deeply enjoyed the show, it seemed.

“But there is something you have to know, my violent little thing…”

Resting her hands on his chest, she couldn’t help but shiver at the sound of his voice as it went low like gravel.

His lips brushed against her ear as he whispered to her.

“I don’t just kill people. I murder people, Monica.

Innocent people. People who don’t deserve it.

I murder them and I like it. I love the smell of their blood.

People call me the Serpent for a reason.

Even my brother and sister fear me. That is who I am. That is who you are marrying.”

“You don’t scare me.”

“But I should, Monica—I should .” He lowered his head farther, kissing her throat, before scraping her skin with his sharp, dangerous fangs.

She jolted, pulling in a sharp breath through her nose at the sting. But it wasn’t a sound of pain. She didn’t recoil. Without intending to, she was leaning her head away from him, giving him room. Welcoming him.

“Tempting…so very tempting.” His tongue ran along her throat, along the vein. “But Mother would have my head.” Trailing slow kisses back up her throat to her ear, he nipped the lobe before whispering to her again. “But tomorrow night? Tomorrow night, we teach you the meaning of fear .”

Instinct took over.

She turned her face to his and kissed him.

She kissed him hard.

With all the hate and all the desire she felt for him. They mixed together into a cyclone. Threading her hand into his hair, she fisted it and deepened the embrace, going up on her tiptoes.

The sound of surprise he made was like music to her ears. His hand slid from her lower back to her ass, grasping it hard enough that her eyes watered. He returned the kiss just as roughly as she was giving it—like a desperate and wild creature.

But who was out of control, she wondered.

Both of them? Or neither?

Finally, he broke the kiss, pulling his head back. She was breathless as she blinked her eyes open. By the moons and stars in the sky, by the lords of the deep Wild, she needed him. He tasted like a winter hearth—like spices and wood mixed with the coppery tang of blood.

It was addictive.

“Impatient…I like it.” He placed his hand to her cheek, resting his thumb on the hollow of her chin, his nail just grazing her lower lip that was swollen from the intensity of the kiss. “Twenty-four hours and you will learn just what kind of a monster you think you want to dance with.”

He pushed away, and she was quite proud of the state she had left him in. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have something to tend to.” He plucked the bottle of bloodwine from the table and headed to the door. “Good night, Monica. Good luck tomorrow. You’re going to need it.”

In his absence, the chill night air was free to wake her up out of her daze. Shaking her head, she combed her hands through her hair.

What was getting into her? Why did she kiss him?

Because she had wanted to.

No, because she had needed to.

Tomorrow night, he’ll show you exactly the kind of monster he truly is, by his own words. Then, this lust of yours will shatter. Twenty-four hours and everything would be different.

But damn it all, if she didn’t want to follow him to his room.

“No, no, no .” She growled.

Storming back to her own room, she locked the door behind herself and decided she was going to have a hot bath in pitch darkness.

It reminded her of her home before it had been taken from her.

It was her favorite way to unwind. Sinking into the liquid in the dark let her pretend she was somewhere else.

Twenty-four hours, and she would have the real chance to prove to Raziel that she could keep up with him.

And they would see exactly which one of them broke first.

“Save your luck for yourself, Raziel,” she murmured to herself. “I think you’ll need it more than me.”