NINE
This time, Nadi entered The Poisoned Serpent as a guest, not the staff. She really had a chance to appreciate how lavish it was now that she could look around at it as someone whohadn’tseen it a thousand times.
Nadi moved through the crowd in the form of a tall, willowy blonde vampire she’d observed at Lana’s gatherings—someone important enough to gain entry, but not so significant that her presence would draw attention. Her crimson gown caught the light with each step, with a slit that ran up to her thigh and allowed easy access to the blade strapped just out of sight.
She paused at the bar, glancing at the ornate clock above it. Nine fifteen precisely. According to their carefully choreographed plan, Raziel would be watching the staff entrance now, timing the guard rotations. By nine twenty, she needed to be positioned at the staircase for the shift change.
Raziel was outside, maintaining surveillance from across the street through binoculars, ready to create a diversion if needed. They had decided it was too risky for both of them to enter—Braen had a great deal of spies, and Raziel’s face was too well-known.
She accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, using the moment to scan the room. The plan was precise, relying on her observations from previous visits. If the guards maintained their usual pattern, she had exactly fifteen minutes to reach Braen’s office.
And only a few minutes more to search for proof of the trafficking.
Making her way toward the grand staircase, she paused to exchange pleasantries with another vampire she recognized from Volencia’s council. The woman didn’t give her a second glance—just another beautiful face in a sea of near-immortals.
The second floor was more exclusive, with private gambling rooms and intimate lounges where the true business of the metropolis was conducted. Nadi slipped past them, every one of her senses alert for any sign of trouble.
As she reached the corridor leading to the next set of stairs, she spotted two burly vampires in Rosov uniforms approaching from the east wing. Quickly ducking into a shadowy alcove, she pressed herself against the wall as they strode past, their hands resting on holstered weapons.
She counted to ten slowly after they passed, then continued on her way. The third floor was restricted to Rosov family members and their most trusted associates. As Nadi reached the top of the stairs, a guard stepped forward to block her path.
“This area is private,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Nadi smiled, channeling the haughty arrogance of the vampire whose form she wore. “I’m expected,” she said, reaching into her clutch to produce the invitation Raziel had somehow procured—an elegant card bearing the Rosov family crest. It was probably old, she realized now. And it had probably been sent tohim.
One of the “resources” he had mentioned earlier in the week.
The guard examined it, his expression unchanging. “Wait here.”
He stepped away to confer with another security officer, and Nadi braced herself. If they verified the invitation with anyone who knew the real owner…
She glanced at the ornate wall clock, noting with growing concern that she’d spent nearly three minutes at this checkpoint. According to their plan, she should already be approaching Braen’s office by now.
The guard returned, nodding curtly. “Follow me.”
Relief washed over her, quickly replaced by focus as she was led through a corridor of closed doors. According to her reconnaissance, Braen’s office was at the far end, a corner room with windows overlooking the street.
“In here,” the guard said, gesturing to a door on the left. “Mr. Rosov will join you shortly.”
Shit. That wasn’t part of the plan.Shit, shit, shit!
Nadi smiled at the guard, stepping into what appeared to be a private lounge. “Thank you. I’ll wait here.”
The moment the door closed, she moved to examine her surroundings. The room was luxuriously appointed, with velvet sofas and a fully stocked bar along one wall. More importantly, there was another door at the far end—possibly a connection to adjacent rooms.
She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. She had perhaps ten minutes before Raziel would expect her at their rendezvous point. If she didn’t appear, he would implement their contingency plan—a staged altercation outside to draw attention away from the building’s upper floors.
If Braen showed up, the whole operation was blown. Damn it.Damn it.
Heading to the door to the connecting room, she tried the handle. Locked, of course. Time for a change of tactics. Crackingher neck, she changed forms, taking the appearance of one of the guards she’d observed during her reconnaissance—a broad-shouldered man with a scar running down his left cheek.
The lock was simple enough to pick with the hairpins she kept for just such occasions. Within moments, she was through the door and into a narrow service corridor.
According to her previous reconnaissance, the third door on the right should connect to a maintenance closet that backed up to Braen’s office. She found it exactly where expected, and sure enough, a large ventilation grille was set into the wall at floor level. Removing it as quietly as possible, she shifted once more—this time into a more familiar, lithe figure of a young woman that could navigate the cramped space. She didn’t even remember who it belonged to. Some teenager she saw on the street once, ages ago. She used it occasionally when she had needs like this.
The metal duct was cold against her skin as she crawled through. After what felt like an eternity of claustrophobic darkness, she reached another grille—this one looking down into Braen’s office.
The room was empty, but she could hear voices approaching from the corridor outside. Quickly, she removed the grille and dropped silently to the floor, immediately taking the form of one of Braen’s personal assistants—a petite vampire with auburn hair.
