Page 37 of The Serpent's Bride
“What’s wrong?”
He laughed for real that time, though it was empty and mirthless. It was then that he finally looked at her, those red eyes regarding her with a haughty kind of disinterest. “Don’t insult me by pretending you care.”
“You’re right. I don’t. Because I don’t know you. Nothing more than rumors and our few interactions that have been…uh…mixed.” She rubbed her throat.
His smile was that of a shark smiling at his prey. Too smooth for its own good.
“But whether we like it or not, tomorrow we’re going to be married. And while I’mfairlysure you’re planning on me not lasting longer than a month, I’d like to try.” She went back to her steak, cutting off another cube.
“Try what?”
She gestured between the two of them with her fork. “This.”
“Why?” He arched an eyebrow.
It was her turn to huff a laugh. She smiled at him as ifhewere the idiot this time. “Because while I’m not afraid to die, Raziel—I don’twantto. I’d like to keep living. And…this whole lifestyle you and your family have. It’s fascinating. And maybe I don’t…know if I want to be turned. But I certainly don’t like the alternative. Being brought to your ancestral home as a sacrifice is…not on my to-do list.”
“I wish you understood what you were saying.” He leaned back in his chair to sip his wine. He had yet to touch his meal.
“I know more than you might think.” She had to get him to trust her—maybe even like her, just a little. Without that, there was no way she’d live long enough, or get close enough, to complete her mission. “My father, while he can’t hold a candle to the lot of you, had plenty of shady deals. Yours aren’t the first knuckles I’ve cleaned blood from. And if that’s what it takes to survive, so be it.”
Raziel leaned forward then, resting his elbows on the table, his crimson gaze boring into her like she were a butterfly beneath pins in a collection. “Knowing about it and being capable of it are two different things.”
Picking up her steak knife, she gestured at Hank where he was standing some ten feet away. Raziel was rarely without at least one of his bodyguards. Ivan must have the night off. “Where do you want me to stab him?”
His laugh this time was finally genuine. “You’re playing a game for adults, child.”
Standing, she smiled at him sweetly. “I’ve been putting down cattle in the slaughterhouse since the moment I was old enough to walk. And these were creatures that I raised—that I named. That Iloved.You don’t think I have it in me to put a knife in your friend?”
“Boss?” Hank clearly wasn’t a fan of this. “You really gonna let this bitch stab me?”
Raziel ignored Hank and spoke only to her. “I don’t think you have what it takes, girl.” He leaned back in his chair, picking up his wine glass and swirling the liquid thoughtfully. “But go ahead and try.”
“Boss.” Hank shook his head. “I don’t?—”
Walking up to Hank, Nadi kept her approach casual until she reached a few feet from him. Hank shifted his stance, ready to defend himself.
He was so much bigger than her. But she was fast. She lunged as if she were going to slash his arm, and he moved to block her—which let her sink the knife into his side. Not far—only a half an inch—but far enough.
“Fuck!”Hank jumped back. Touching his side in disbelief, his hand came back with that inky, black-red blood that was the telltale sign of a vampire. “Shit, you stupid little?—”
Raziel was howling in laughter. He slapped the table before standing and approaching the scene. “That was better entertainment than any strip club you could have planned for a bachelor party. Go get yourself fixed up, Hank.”
“But she—” Hank argued.
“Oh, come on. You’ve had worse scuffles after a few too many drinks with Ivan.” Raziel rolled his eyes. “You’re just mad because she got you fair and square. Go on.”
“Yeah, boss.” Hank grunted and walked away, muttering to himself as he left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Raziel approached Nadi, holding out his hand for the knife. She handed it to him, handle forward, and wondered if he was going to slash her throat open in retribution.
Instead, he lifted the knife to his lips and slowly, sensually, licked the gore from the blade. All the while, he kept his red eyes on her. He tossed the knife aside, and it clattered to the floor.
He took a step toward her.
She held her ground, staring at him in defiance. “I told you.”
“Stabbing a man is different than making them suffer—than taking their life. But I’ll admit…that was a thing of beauty.” He crooked a finger underneath her chin, tilting her head up to his as he took another step forward, closing the distance between them.
