Page 47 of The Serpent’s Bride (Bloodlines #1)

TWENTY-FOUR

The next morning, Nadi walked downstairs for breakfast, minding her own business.

Well. Pretending to mind her own business.

She was just Monica, after all, preparing to eat her last meal in her husband’s home before being shoved onto a boat and floated up to the ancestral home of the Nostroms to be murdered.

She was absolutely not, you know, a shapeshifting assassin listening to find out whether Hank’s disappearance had caused any kind of stir.

Sure enough, the guards weren’t in their usual positions. And the staff were going about their business a little more nervously than before. Good. They all knew Hank had gone missing. And they knew Raziel’s second-favorite guard hadn’t just walked off the job.

Walking up to Ivan, who was standing in the main hallway looking deeply concerned, she smiled. She was purposefully trying to be as obnoxiously cheerful as she could. “Hi, good morning! Have you seen Raziel?”

“Office. On the phone with his mother.” Ivan frowned down at her.

Interesting. Either a good sign or a bad one. “Thanks.” Putting her bag down by the door—keeping up the appearance that she was fully convinced that she was leaving for a cruise to her death that day—she headed back up the stairs to the second floor where Raziel’s office was located.

Two guards stood by the closed door, flanking either side. That was unusual. Good. She smiled at them and gestured at the door. “I’d like to speak to my husband.”

When one of the guards opened the door to let her in, it was clear that they’d been instructed to do so. Also interesting. Raziel was expecting her to come find him, which meant he had been expecting to be on the phone for some time.

Heading in, the guard shut the door behind her.

Raziel was sitting behind his large, expensive oak desk.

A whiskey glass in front of him said he had been drinking for some time, despite it being first thing in the morning—something told her he hadn’t started early; he hadn’t stopped from the night before.

His fingers were steepled against his temple, and the expression on his face was one of pure unadulterated suffering.

The look of a man who had been forced to listen to nonsense for a very long time and was about ready to snap.

A cigarette was perched between his fingers, the smoke curling lazily from its tip into the air.

It took everything in Nadi not to grin like an idiot.

“I am aware .” Raziel sighed and took a drag from the cigarette, flicking the ashes into an angular gold tray in front of him. He gestured at a chair across from him.

Taking her cue, she sat down and waited like an obedient little human sacrifice.

She couldn’t hear what Volencia was saying on the other end of the line, but whatever it was, it was pissing Raziel off .

“All the more reason to leave, don’t you think? Mael needs my men. And if I have a traitor within my ranks, he’s better suited to ‘fumigate the house’ than I am.” He shut his eyes, looking exhausted over the whole thing. A pause. “Ivan is plenty.”

Wait, what? Now, suddenly Volencia wanted to postpone the trip, but Raziel didn’t?

That wasn’t how she wanted this to go. Frowning, she sank back into the leather of the chair.

Luckily, her dismay worked for Monica as well—if for very different reasons.

From Nadi’s point of view, it made no sense.

It didn’t change her plan—kill Raziel, disappear into the Wild.

But the fact that Raziel was now keen to keep it to “business as usual” and that Volencia was the one who wanted to delay… stung.

Another pause from Raziel while his mother spoke.

“Believe me, I fully understand that. My point is simply this, then—it takes fewer people to secure a yacht than it does this house. And on the chance that the attacker snuck in and was not already masquerading as part of the staff, I will be on a boat surrounded by the ocean . There will be nowhere to escape should they fail. It would be too risky for them to attempt.”

Challenge accepted, asshole. I have a tail. Nadi kept herself from laughing at her poorly timed silent retort. Even if she really didn’t want to.

“Oh, yes, thank you for the reminder.” Raziel rolled his eyes.

She wondered what Volencia had said.

“The fact remains, however. We leave in an hour.” He hung up the black metal receiver on the cradle with a click.

His fangs were slightly extended in his anger.

But, after a moment, he took a breath, held it, and let it out in a wavering sigh.

Crimson eyes flicked to her. “Someone murdered Hank in the middle of the night.”

“O—oh. Oh, no.” Nadi blinked, feigning shock and dismay. “I—how?”

“Unsure. He went missing on shift. We haven’t found the body or any blood, but…

my men do not simply disappear. And especially not him.

No one saw him leave. His things are still here.

” He took a long pull from his cigarette, speaking through the exhale, the smell of woodsmoke and incense filling the air with it.

“Some fae piece of garbage likely getting revenge.”

The fact that he was right—sans the piece of garbage bit, but she supposed that was a matter of opinion—was also incredibly funny to her. “Do you really think the boat is safer than here?”

“Nowhere is safe, my little murderer.” He put out the cigarette, crushing it in the golden tray. “But on a boat, there is nowhere for them to hide from me either.”

Slumping her shoulders, she sighed. “I won’t lie, I’m not exactly excited to go off to my death. I wouldn’t mind staying here a few weeks.” Chuckling, she played the doe-eyed innocent card instead. Maybe that’d work. All she needed was a few weeks to murder his entire family, and?—

“And yet, here we are.” He stood from his desk, downed the rest of his whiskey, and placed the glass back onto the leather cover on the polished, lacquered surface. “The car is already waiting for us.”

Fine. Nodding glumly, she stood from her own chair and followed Raziel from the room.

And prepared herself for a luxury cruise from which one of them would not return.

What a bizarre situation she’d found herself in.

It wasn’t that Nadi didn’t know the Nostroms owned a yacht.

It was just another thing to see it.

This was the kind of luxury that she both abhorred and yet…found herself a little jealous of, if she were being honest. Everything was shiny, polished, or painted fresh.

The ship was about a hundred feet of chrome and lacquered wood.

It looked as though it could be rigged up for sails, and she thought she’d much prefer that over the rumble and chugging of an engine.

There was something that seemed endlessly peaceful about sailing , though she’d never been.

Cushioned benches lined the deck, and she saw several places to hide from the sun—a must for the vampires who owned it.

The ocean was her joy. She’d grown up in the underground lakes and cisterns of Runne, but the ocean was always calling to her. The few times her family had gone to the sea, she could feel the lure of its openness. Something in it called to the part of her that had fins and a tail.

What was out there? Who was out there? Were there other continents? Other people, other fae like her? Her family all were two-legged creatures. She was the only aquatic fae in her clan. It wasn’t uncommon for that to happen, as all her people were born gifted in different ways.

After her family had died, Nadi had debated taking to those open waters. Picking a direction and just…going to the horizon. Either she would find a new home or she’d find the void. But the need for vengeance had kept her in Runne.

The need for death had kept her alive.

Raziel walked ahead of her, still not even glancing back at her as he walked aboard the large steel and wooden structure, her bag slung over his shoulder.

A single, circular steam stack rose up from the center of it, a white cloud rising up from it to signify that the engine was already burning and ready to go.

The minimal crew was already hard at work. Everyone bowed their heads to Raziel as he passed. He didn’t acknowledge a single one of them as he walked inside. One of the deckhands took her bag to go put it with Raziel’s things, she assumed.

She wondered how loyal the crew was. How easily they could be paid off to look the other way. Or how much they even saw in the first place. Not that she had the money to pay them off at the moment—but it’d be good to note for the future.

Ivan stopped next to her. “The master suite is downstairs in the back. But I’d give him some space.”

Nodding, she sighed. “Is it noon yet? Not too early for a drink?”

Ivan snorted. “You’re married to Raz. You drink at any hour.” He followed after his boss, likely not wanting to leave him alone with a possible assassin on board.

If they only knew.

Heading to the bar that was at the back of the boat on the deck, Nadi ordered a whiskey sour before sitting on a bench in the sun and watching the city begin to shrink as the boat pushed off from the docks.

It was at that point she realized…she’d never been on a boat before.

Well, okay, never on a moving boat before. There was that one hit she’d done on a canal boat. But it’d been moored up when she’d put the bullet in the woman’s head. That didn’t count. Nadi hadn’t ever been on a boat at sea.

It felt strange. The movement was unnatural but swayed with the waves at the same time. She couldn’t help but lean over the railing to watch the water as it crested in their wake. The wind whipped her hair in her face. The smell of the salt air and the warmth of the sun was just wonderful .

Everything was chaos. Everything was likely about to fall apart around her. Odds were good she’d be dead before long.

But this was incredible.

The metropolis began to shrink as they sailed away.

She watched it change, watched it grow…small.

Its smoke, its dirt, and its grime shrank and grew insignificant in its steel and shining glory.

All sharp lines and hypermodern sensibilities.

Was that how the humans saw it? Did they only see it from far away?

The “big picture”? Was that why they loved their crowded structures so much?

Or was it because they made them feel safe?

Powerful? In control of the Wild? There was beauty in it, she had to admit.

The lines the structures made, each one seeming to compete against the others, yet somehow creating a piece of art in the inorganic, yet unplanned structure of the whole.

It was an organism in its own right, wasn’t it? An un-living, living thing?

A corpse filled with crawling things. Only these insects were the architects of the corpse, digging up and melting down and rearranging the body parts to suit their needs.

Moons, when did I get so moody? She didn’t know how long she stayed there. But somebody came by and refilled her drink twice, and she wasn’t trying to plow through them, if that was any indication.

It was probably time to face the music. She had to talk to Raziel eventually. Even if she still had no idea what to say to him. But the fact remained…she couldn’t avoid him forever. They were on a boat.

Downing the last of her third drink, she stood and realized…ah. Yeah. She’d had three drinks. Great. Well, that’d make the conversation go a little easier. Or worse. Harder? Harder. That was the word.

Shit. She was a little drunk.

That was the problem with having staff. They were trying to be helpful by refilling her drinks without her asking. But if it was in front of her, she was going to drink it.

Get it together. She needed her faculties for this conversation.

With a breath, she headed down below decks to the master suite. The yacht was large, but it wasn’t enormous enough that getting lost was a real possibility. She reached the door. Should she knock?

They were married.

Sort of.

All right, well, he thought they were married.

Ivan was standing nearby. She glanced at him. “Knock or no knock, what do you think?”

The big guy cringed as if watching someone about to put their hand into an oven and knowing he couldn’t do anything to stop them. He shrugged.

No right answer. Nodding, she decided to get it over with. Twisting the handle, she was surprised to find it unlocked. She shut the door behind her, and braced herself for the worst.

The room was dominated by a large bed directly in front of her, swathed in black silk.

The room was huge for a ship, and every surface was polished wood or gleaming metal.

Doors on either side went out to a large, private balcony on the back of the boat, which was likely just below where she had just been on deck.

Another door to her right revealed a bathroom with no one in it.

There was no sign of Raziel.

Until a hand settled on the back of her neck. Fingers on one side, thumb on the other, holding her in place.

She went rigid.

“Started the party without me, did you?”

Stunned for a moment, she stammered. “I—what?”

His grip tightened. “You smell of whiskey.”

“You left me alone and your staff is very helpful.” She shivered at his grasp. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I just…are you mad at me?” What was going on? Why was he so pissed ?

Suddenly, a wave of panic washed over her. Does he know? Has he figured it out? Was she about to die?

His hand slid from the back of her neck to around the front of her throat. Grasping her underneath her chin, he pulled her back to his chest, tilting her head to look up at him. Those ruby-red eyes of his stared down at her.

There was no anger there.

Only hunger.

Only need.

His thumb traced along the edge of her jawline. “Are you ready?”

She felt like the floor had dropped out from underneath her. Was she?

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she let out the breath she’d been holding. “Yes.”

The smile he gave her sent a chill through her. “Then let’s begin.”