Page 32 of The Serpent's Bride
But something about the way he moved wasdistracting.
“Then why did you sneak into my room if you believed me?”
“It’s my room, Monica. You’re merely using it. This is my house.” He gestured aimlessly at the building around them.
Rolling her eyes, she sighed. “Why’d you sneak intotheroom, then?”
“Tell me about these rumors that you’ve heard.” Another slow drag from his cigarette.
By the great deep lords of the deepest caverns, she wanted to throw him over the balcony. Not like she could budge him, she was a third his size—but the mental image made her happy all the same. She ran a hand over her face. “I’m sure you’ve heard them.”
“I want to know whatyouthink I am.”
“Your sister deals in flesh, not cars. It’s painfully obvious, even if I hadn’t heard the stories. Your brother deals in drugs and uses the fact that he’s the senior advisor to the mayor to move things in and out.”
“And me?”
“You…kill people.” She gestured to his hand, still a little stained with red, which was resting on the railing.
“I do.”
Sipping her drink, she pondered the metropolis at night, just as he was doing. There were always lights, blinking in the distance, even though nobody in their right mind was awake or working. Cities were always awake.
Whatever inspired her to ask her next question, she didn’t know. But it left her lips before she could stop it. “You’re going to kill me on the night of the wedding, aren’t you? I was given to you as a sacrifice.”
The next few seconds were a blur of motion. He was justtoofast.He grabbed her by her hair, fisting it in his hand, yanking her away from the railing so quickly that her drink clattered to the floor, the thick glass somehow surviving the fall.
Before she could do anything more than squeak, he threw her forward. Up became down then up again as she landed on something surprisingly soft. One of the pieces of furniture on the balcony.
He was on top of her again, straddling her thighs, pinning her down. She took a wild swing at him, but he caught her wrists easily and pinned them over her head with one of his hands. He was a silhouette against the starry night above him.
Raziel was smiling, watching her struggling to kick him off with all the amusement of a tiger that had just pinned its prey.
Letting out a ragged, frustrated sigh, she glowered up at him. “What thefuckwasthatfor?”
“See…this is the thing. This is what I don’t understand about you.” He slipped his other hand around her throat and squeezed. “This. Right here.”
Gagging, she kicked uselessly, trying to wriggle away. But there was no use. He was going to choke the life out of her. She was going to die. This was it.
Helpless, she watched as he lowered himself closer to her, resting his weight on his elbow, even as his grasp around her throat never wavered. He wanted to watch her die. Wantedto watch the spark of life leave her eyes. There was a keen fascination in those red orbs.
My glamor will fall the moment I die. He’ll see me for what I really am. What a wonderful little mystery he’ll have to deal with, then.
“Cowgirl from the outer cities. The daughter of a wannabe gangster who got on the wrong side of my mother. Sacrificial lamb sold off to make amends and pay a debt.” He hummed, moving his lips closer to her ear, his voice dropping low even as he was slowly killing her. “You’re supposed to be small. Immaterial. Uninteresting at best.”
Fuck you.
Lips ghosted against her cheek, just at the corner of her mouth, a faint impression of a kiss, but nothing real. He lifted his head to watch her eyes.
Fuck. You.Her vision was going spotty at the edges. She didn’t have long.
“A little mortal human, lost in the metropolis, surrounded by politics she can’t possibly understand…engaged to the most dangerous murderer in all of Runne. And yet? When you look at me?” Brow furrowing slightly, he was looking at her like she was the most intriguing puzzle he’d ever seen. “Your eyes hold no fear. None at all.”
All at once, he let go of her throat and sat back, releasing her wrists. He stayed straddling her legs as she coughed and wheezed, turning her head to try to desperately fill her aching lungs with air. Her head was spinning.
“You aren’t afraid of me. Just there, you looked at me with nothing but defiance. I could kill you in a thousand ways, a thousand times over, every second you’re near me.” He caught her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him, even as she was wheezing. “Why?”
When she felt like she could speak without coughing, she answered him, her voice quiet and hoarse. “Because I’m already dead.”
