But Nadi knew better. They were two predators circling the same prey, their alliance tenuous at best. And when the time came, she would have to decide where her true loyalties lay—with Raziel, with herself, or with the vengeance that had driven her for so long.
As they entered the house, a servant approached with a silver tray bearing a sealed envelope. Raziel took it, breaking the black wax seal with his thumb.
“It would seem,” he said, scanning the contents, “that my mother is eager for us to begin. This contains their intelligence on Braen’s movements and security.”
He handed the pages to Nadi. “Take a look. We’ll begin planning tomorrow morning.”
The dossier was detailed and extensive—security rotations, known associates, properties, even preferred hunting grounds for feeding. Nadi was impressed. And, if she werereallyhonest, she was jealous. It must be nice to have real money and connections. If she’d had these resources when she was an assassin, her job would have been so much easier. Someone had been watching Braen Rosov very closely for a very long time.
At the bottom of the last page was a handwritten note in elegant, flowing script:
Remember what happens to pets that bite the hand that feeds them, my son. Do not disappoint me again.
Nadi looked up to find Raziel watching her, his expression unreadable. “Your mother doesn’t leave much room for interpretation, does she?”
“Volencia has never been one for subtlety.” He sneered. “At least not when it comes to threats.” Taking the papers back from her, his fingers brushed against hers. “Get some rest. We have much to discuss and I need you sharp.”
As he turned to leave, Nadi called after him. “Raziel.”
He paused, looking back at her with one eyebrow raised in question.
“If Braen cared about you, or you him”—pausing, she chose her words carefully—“are you certain you can go through with this?”
Something dark flickered across his face—pain. Or perhaps anger. Maybe both.
“My dear, sweet Monica,” his voice was edged with steel, “caring for someone has never stopped me from killing them. If anything, it only inspires me to remove them from my life. You’d do well to remember that.”
With that parting shot, he left her standing in the foyer, the warning hanging in the air between them like the blade of a guillotine, poised to fall.
SEVEN
“You can’t be serious.”
Nadi studied the elaborate floor plan spread across Raziel’s desk, tracing its winding corridors with her finger. Braen’s personal jazz club, The Poisoned Serpent, was a testament to both opulence and paranoia—four stories of gambling, entertainment, and private rooms for the metropolis’s elite, all protected by no fewer than thirty armed guards.
While the Rosov family had many clubs in their portfolio, and most of them were managed by Braen himself, apparentlythis onewas his personal favorite. He rented out a suite above it and spent most of his nights there, far away from the estate that was technically his family home.
Many of the private rooms in The Poisoned Serpent were meant fordiscerning guestsand activities that they wished to engage in outside of the home but away from prying eyes.
“He named his club after you?” she remarked, raising an eyebrow at Raziel.
A shadow passed over his face. “Braen’s idea of a joke.”
Right. Either that, or theircomplicatedfriendship was perhaps more than a friendship.
“So I’m going in there just to observe? Learn his patterns, find his vulnerabilities?”
“For now.” His voice gave nothing away. “I need to know what he’s hiding. Specifically, what leverage we can use to draw him out for the kill.”
“And how exactly do you propose I get past his security?” She went back to studying the map. They were alone, so she could at least speak freely about her abilities and their situation. “Even if I took the place of one of his men, they rotate in pairs. A lone guard would draw questions immediately.”
Raziel leaned back in his chair, toying with one of his gold coins—flipping it over his knuckles in that mesmerizing pattern that had become so familiar to her but no less hypnotizing. “We don’t go in as guards. In fact, I’m not going at all. Andyou’regoing in as the staff.”
“Oh, joy. The help.” Nadi frowned.
“No one notices the staff, after all.” His smile was thin. “And your current face is becoming known in our circles.”
He flipped the coin into the air, catching it with a snap of his wrist. “And you’ve proven to be quite adept at…blending in. I have no fear you will be quite fine on your own.”
