Page 30 of The Serpent's Bride
“What?” He moved to sit next to her, sipping his gin.
“We were both bought and sold like cattle.”
He huffed a sad laugh. “Cheers to that.” He held his glass out. She clinked hers against it, and they each took a drink in silence for a moment before he spoke. “Can we be friends? Well, for as long as you’re alive, anyway.”
That legitimately surprised her. “Why?” Monica was already as good as dead in his eyes. And in hers too. Void, she was also as good as dead in reality. “If what you say is true, a few days after the wedding I’ll be shuttled off to some abandoned estate and murdered.”
“All mortal lives are short. I appreciate them no matter how long they last. Or don’t.” He shrugged. “You’re smart. You seem like you care. And you make afuckof a good drink.” He paused as he stared down into his glass. “I like being seen as a person.”
“Yeah. We can be friends.” She paused. No harm in having an ally, even if they were a fake one. “Thanks for being the first person here to tell me the truth about anything.”
“The truth won’t do you any favors around here. Remember that.” He stood, downed the rest of his drink, and set the glass down on the top of the bar. “All right, let’s ruffle up your hair. I’ll tell Lana you pulled a muscle with me and want to go soak in your tub.”
“And what’ll you do for the rest of the night?”
“Wrong question.” He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and uncorked it. He took a chug before walking up to her with it. There was an emptiness in his eyes when he finished his thought. “The question is ‘who’ will I be doing. And how many.”
It was then that she made up her mind. Azazel would survive her murder-spree. Lana, however…wouldsuffer.And the best part was, Aza would be a wonderful tool in getting to the vampire mistress. Azazel had her confidence—and therefore, he was her weakness.
And in exchange? Maybe, just maybe, she’d let Aza watch.
That’s what “friends” were for, after all.
Right?
NINE
Nadi was a light sleeper.
It was part of the job.
Nobody had ever come after her—she was careful at covering her tracks and generally stayed away from any targets that would warrant a revenge-kill of a hired gun. But it was always a real, and serious, possibility.
So, when someone crawled into bed on top of her, their hands on either side of her body…she reactedverypoorly.
Before she could even process what she was doing, she’d grabbed the hairpin she’d stuffed underneath her pillow, rammed her elbow into the attacker’s jawline, and used their recoil of pain and shock to roll them both over.
It wasn’t until she was straddling the man beneath her, hairpin digging into his skin hard enough to make him bleed, that she realized who he was.
Raziel.
Oh.
Shit.
She blinked down at him, at a total loss for words. He had his head tilted back, baring his throat, his red eyes burning like coals.
Lips curling into a slow, lazy smile, he let his hands rest on her bare thighs. It wasn’t until he touched her, his hot skin on hers, that she remembered that she slept naked. “I was right—that was why you were keeping your hair up. You wanted a weapon close by.”
Her heart was pounding in her ears. Swallowing the rock in her throat, she debated what to do. She could kill him here, now—just put the pin through his eye and into his brain and be done with him. She’d lose on any chance to witness his suffering, but he’d be gone.
Vampires were hard to kill, but they weren’t truly immortal.
She’d just tried to attack him. If she let him live, how would he respond? And if he was suspicious that her hairpins were her weapons…did he just figure her out? Had she just given herself away?
His hands trailed up her thighs to her waist, slowly caressing her. She shivered, her skin breaking out in goosebumps. “You like to be touched…”
She did. It wasn’t something she experienced often. But now wasn’t the time.
