Page 45 of The Serpent’s Bride (Bloodlines #1)

“The envelope he gave you.” The look on his face was one that promised violence, though she didn’t feel the swirl of his hypnotism in the air. “ Now. ”

Slowly, hesitatingly, Nadi reached into the coat pocket and procured it. Placing it into his palm, she felt like she was somehow in trouble. “He was just concerned about?—”

Rolling down the window with the wood and ivory handle on the door, he whipped the envelope out of the gap before rolling it back up. “I am very well aware of what he was concerned about .”

“I…I wasn’t going to take them.”

“Good. They’re poison.” He stared out of the window.

“I mean, I know drugs aren’t good for you, but?—”

“No, little murderer!” he snapped without warning.

Like a shattering piece of glass. Suddenly, his hand was around her throat, and she was pressed up against the door of the car.

He was caging her in, his face hovering close to hers, his chill breath washing over her lips as he hovered only inches away from her.

If it bothered Ivan at all, it didn’t show in his driving.

Nadi just stared at Raziel, wide-eyed, lost in those crimson eyes of his, too stunned to speak. She had no weapons. Not even her hairpins. There wasn’t anything she could do except cling to the front of his coat and wait to die.

“You don’t understand, do you ?” The vampire laughed quietly.

“What you’re really up against? The games you’ve walked into…

? The depths we’ll sink to for a chance to torment each other?

” His gaze flicked to her lips. “Do you know how many of my pretty little things he’s killed, just to annoy me?

How many of my toys he’s broken just to piss me off ?

And not because he hates me, oh no…just because he’s my big brother and that’s what we do . ”

“I—”

“ Quiet. ” He ground out the word, the hand around her throat tightening enough to cut off her air.

“The pills he gave you are literal poison. Perhaps he truly thought they were an act of kindness, killing you before I had the chance to. Maybe he’s even smitten with my little murderer and was being merciful, who knows.

Who cares. You’re mine . And no one gets to kill you but me . Understand?”

His hand released enough that she could gasp in air and struggle out a choked “Y—yes.”

“Good.” He sat back on the seat and gazed out the window again like nothing had happened.

They rode the rest of the way in silence.

And all she could think to herself was…

I’m going to make you fucking suffer.

Nadi had one day before they left for Raziel’s “ancestral home.” One day to make sure the boat was just a little less crowded when they left. One day to kill Hank. The question was…how?

Luckily, Raziel had a lot of business to attend to that was going to keep him locked away in his office and out of view. It would be a day trip to sail there, and likely a day trip back, and he needed to sort out his affairs.

Good.

That meant she could do a little bit of quick figuring out.

The first thing she needed to discover was…

where was the best place in the home to dispose of a body?

Her first instinct was the trunk of a car.

But with the garage under constant surveillance by multiple guards, that wasn’t going to work.

Plan B. She could find somewhere in the house to hide corpses where they wouldn’t be found for long enough that it wouldn’t matter.

The issue was, Raziel had a great many servants and guards who were always poking around and going in and out of seemingly everywhere.

And if someone found Hank’s corpse, the jig would probably be up.

No, she needed somewhere decent to throw him.

So, she set about exploring Raziel’s house, opening every door and searching through every possible nook and cranny for places she could stuff a corpse.

Luring Hank down into the basement to murder him wouldn’t be hard.

It was obvious Hank was attracted to Monica.

But the question was, was he attracted to her enough to risk it ?

Was he more afraid of Raziel’s wrath than he was horny for his boss’s temporary new wife?

She could only hope that in Hank’s head, it was an incursion that would sort itself out in forty-eight to seventy-two hours when she was dead. Therefore, low risk, high reward.

There were a decent number of locked doors in the basement. She had half a mind to pick the locks, but without the ability to re-lock them, she knew that suspicion would immediately fall on her once they were discovered open. She figured at least one was a wine cellar.

Another one was probably a space for Raziel’s collection of… specialty furniture and implements.

She snickered at the idea.

Time to think of a Plan C. And fast.

To clear her head and give herself a chance to think Nadi decided to go for a walk around the yard.

More fake shrubbery, trees, and grass. It was funny to her, how vampires wanted to surround themselves with the appearance of the Wild but loathed the idea of the reality of it. They wanted to feel in command of it.

That they were somehow superior to it.

Pacing around the edge of the property, she could at least enjoy the sunshine. That was a benefit to being out from the underground. As much as she missed her home, and how refreshingly cool the air could be down there, the sunlight up top in the city could be wonderful.

Plan C. Murdering Hank would make it that much easier to kill Raziel on the yacht. But she needed somewhere to stuff his dumb, disgusting ass. But where ? There had to be something. Somewhere.

It was on her third lap around the property when the opportunity presented itself.

Funny thing about real trees, grass, and shrubs.

The roots absorbed rainwater. And when those things were removed, and dirt was replaced with concrete and stone, water had nowhere to go. And so…other drainage was required.

Nadi found herself staring down at a circular drainage hatch. It was hidden behind a row of silk and metal wire hedges and set into a depression in the false grass. More trickery to hide the workings of the house. Fake grass didn’t drain into dirt, now did it?

Crouching down, she stuck her fingers through the slats in the drain and lifted, pulling the heavy metal grate from its home and sliding it a few inches to the side. The grate was some twenty inches wide, which would be difficult for Ivan. But Hank would fit just fine.

She’d known from the beginning that Hank would die first, and it was almost time.

The hole was deep. Good. Picking up a pebble, she dropped it inside. She counted the seconds before she heard it hit water. Two. Long enough for what she needed. And it wouldn’t be the first time her people down below had found a few corpses floating in an underground lake or river.

She had the most important part of her plan—how she was going to get rid of Hank. And, looking up, she knew how she was going to bait the hook and celebrate her find at the same time.

Putting the grate back in place, she straightened up, brushed her hands off, and decided she was going to celebrate her discovery with a swim in Raziel’s pool, since she’d yet to actually enjoy it.

Besides, it’d be a lot easier to kill Hank later in the evening when it was dark. She’d wait until he had a few drinks, lure him into the shrubs, pop a few holes in his lungs, and cram him into the drain.

So she had some time to kill. And if she wasn’t mistaken, Hank would be on guard by the pool soon. Perfect.

Over the past week, she had watched the patterns of the normal servants and guards. She had their paths memorized.

Now, she just had to figure out how much time she had to do the deed. Raziel seemed distracted—but the question was, how distracted?

Stopping by Raziel’s office, she knocked on the door.

A grunt from inside was all she got for an answer. Opening it, she popped her head in, and shot him an innocent smile. “Are you going to be coming to dinner?”

“No. I won’t be coming to bed either. You’re on your own tonight.

” He didn’t even look up from his work, or whatever it was he was doing, scribbling away in a ledger, his head down.

A cigarette was in an ashtray, a curl of smoke rising from it in a lazy spiral.

He was walking a gold coin across his knuckles.

She had the urge to walk up to him, push his rolling chair away from his desk, climb onto his lap, and ride that perfect cock of his until the sun came up. Damn him for being so damn handsome. “All right…”

She pretended to be disappointed. As it was, she was smiling ear to ear as she shut the door. This worked perfectly. She’d have all night to herself with Raziel too busy squaring things away.

Heading back up to Raziel’s bedroom, she rooted through drawers until she found a bathing suit for her.

It was exactly what she expected it to be.

Crimson and barely there. Just enough to leave something to the imagination while flaunting to the world precisely what Raziel now believed himself to be in possession of.

She changed into the crimson bikini and dug a long, black lace shawl out of another drawer, wrapping it around herself. Looking in the mirror, she smiled sadly. Monica really was a beautiful woman. She missed her own face. It was rare that she ever saw her own, real face in the mirror.

But Monica had curves in all the right places. It’d make it easy to tempt Hank into betraying his boss for a quickie. But she had to be careful—if Hank was too loyal or too afraid, it could blow up in her face in all the wrong ways.

Either way, she had to make sure that Hank never breathed a word of it to anyone. Whether he said yes or no, the man had to die.