Page 1 of The Serpent's Bride
PROLOGUE
Her wedding bouquet was the color of blood.
The crimson roses were wrapped in delicate champagne lace and detailed with black pearls perched upon the thinnest of wires. They almost seemed to be floating.
It wasn’t what she would have chosen.
A string quartet was already playing as dark wood doors swung open in front of her, light glinting off their brass inlay as they moved.
Rows of faces turned toward her, some with expressions of curiosity and others with vague disinterest. They didn’t know her. None of those in attendance were her family.
The hall was flanked by soaring granite columns supporting an arch overhead. Angular chandeliers hung down, filling the space with a deep amber glow. The walls were decorated with flowers that perfectly matched her bouquet.
What attention to detail.
With the tempo of the music, she walked on, and the faces of the guests followed her.
At the end of the long aisle, standing beside the priest, was the groom. Her husband. As she approached, she felt his red eyes boring into her.
Vampires always seemed to stare rightthroughpeople.
She moved to stand across from him. And in spite of everything, she couldn’t help but appreciate how handsome he was.
Raziel Nostrom might be a monster, but you couldn’t deny that he was beautiful.
Sharp cheekbones, long black hair held back with a silk ribbon. Tall, broad-shouldered. And those blazing eyes.
His tuxedo was perfectly tailored and likely worth more than most humans would make in a year. His suit was such a deep red that it was nearly black—of course—and accented by a black silk undershirt that starkly offset the white bowtie at his throat and matching handkerchief.
And tucked into his buttonhole was a rose that matched her bouquet. A flower the color of blood.
“You look dazzling, Monica.” His words were quiet, intended only for her.
Monica.
For a moment, her smile almost faltered. Was she really doing this? Marrying a man who didn’t even know her real name? She felt adrenaline coursing through her veins, heard her heartbeat rushing in her ears. But she pinned her smile in place and looked up into Raziel’s eyes.
She had to be perfect. If he doubted her now, years of planning and patience would be wasted.
Turning away, she passed the bouquet to her maid of honor. Raziel’s sister. From the front row of seats, the rest of his family watched on. Mother. Brother. Cousins. The whole blood-drinking lot of them.
The priest stepped up to begin the ceremony.
This was her wedding.
Her name was Nadi.
And she had come here to murder them all.
ONE
ONE WEEK EARLIER
“Again.”
Raziel danced the gold coin over the backs of his knuckles. It was one of his favorites. Moving the coin to his thumb, he flicked it into the air, sending it whirling up into the light of the Father, the larger of the two moons, before catching it in his palm to repeat the action.
A familiar sound. Then a whimper of pain.
