Silver. Of course. Braen would have come prepared to kill a vampire. Silver slowed their healing and made them vulnerable to blood loss.
“We need to get you out of here.” Glancing around frantically, she tried to think. They needed to leave before someone came to investigate—the guards knew where Braen was, and more importantly,who he was with. But Raziel was in no condition to walk, let alone run.
This was the moment, she realized with sudden clarity. This was her chance. With Raziel incapacitated and Braen dead, she could complete her original mission.
She could kill the Serpent, avenge her family, side with Lana and Mael, secure her own position within the Nostrom hierarchy, destroy them all.
It would be so easy. He was already dying. All she had to do was leave him here and let nature take its course. Two sadistic, vampiric ex-lovers who killed each other in an argument. It would be perfect. Not a single bit of the story would seem unusual.
Raziel seemed to read her thoughts, a pained smile twisting his lips. “Go ahead,” he whispered, voice thick with the blood in his throat. “Finish what you started.”
His eyes held hers, those crimson orbs that had once terrified her now clouded with pain but still somehow…understanding. As if he’d always known this moment would come, had accepted it long ago.
And suddenly, Nadicouldn’t do it.
The thought of leaving him here, of watching the light fade from those eyes, made something in her chest constrict painfully. It wasn’t forgiveness—she would never forgive him for what he’d done to her family. It was something else. Something she wasn’t ready to name.
But itwasa choice.
“Shut up,” she muttered, tearing strips from his shirt to create makeshift bandages. “I’m not letting you die before I’m finished making you suffer.”
A weak laugh escaped him, ending in a cough that brought up more blood. “What…are you going to do?”
A plan was already forming in her mind. “First, I’m going to make sure no one follows us.”
Concentrating, she shifted her form, taking on the appearance of Braen Rosov. It was an unsettling sensation, wearing the face of the man she’d just killed, but it wasn’t the first or the last time she’d had to do it. With Braen’s voiceand mannerisms, she ordered the nearby guards to secure the perimeter, claiming there had been an intruder that had already been dealt with.
The guards didn’t question it. Why would they?
Once they were gone, she shifted again—this time taking on Ivan’s massive form. The added strength would make it easier to carry Raziel. She hated how often the bodyguard came in handy—both literally and figuratively. But he did.
“Hold on,” she told him, using Ivan’s voice, and carefully lifted his bloodied form. She held him in her now-massive arms, afraid to throw him over her shoulder for fear of what it would do.
“A compelling performance,” Raziel managed through gritted teeth. “You made…a decent Braen, back there.” His eyes rolled into his head for a moment before they snapped back to her. “For better or worse…”
She decided not to let her thoughts linger on that. The night was complicated enough as it was. “Shut up and focus on not dying,” she responded, but there was no real heat in her words.
As she carried him away from the garden, retracing their steps through the estate grounds, she had to keep her focus purely on the task at hand—escape. Survival.
Nadi was acutely aware of his weight in her arms, the warmth of his blood seeping into her borrowed form. The smell of it was overwhelming—coppery and rich, mingled with the unique scent that was distinctly Raziel.
His words echoed in her mind. A confession of love to an enemy. Had it been a distraction tactic? Just something to torture Braen moments before his death? Or…had it been real?
Now wasn’t the time to ask.
She thought of Lana’s offer, of the position and power she’d promised if Nadi eliminated both Raziel and Braen. She thought of Mael’s earnest assurances that he would protect her.She thought of her original mission, the one that had driven her for so many years—to destroy the Nostroms, to avenge her slaughtered family.
And yet, here she was, carrying Raziel to safety, his blood on her hands in a way she’d never anticipated.
What was happening to her? When had the line between hatred andwhatever this wasbecome so blurred? Had there even been a single moment?
“They’re going to come after us,” Raziel murmured, his voice fading. “Both of us. For killing Braen. And my family…will allow it.”
“I know. Let them come,” she replied, surprising herself with the fierceness in her voice. “We’ll be ready.”
As they reached the car where Ivan—the real Ivan—was waiting, she was finally able to shift out of the bodyguard’s form as the real one took over. She let out a breath of exhaustion as she resumed her own shape as soon as she could, knowing how much her assuming Ivan’s form unsettled him. And whileshedidn’t care, she needed the bodyguard paying attention to what mattered.
Raziel’s hand caught hers, his grip surprisingly strong given his condition. “Thank you,” he said, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that took her breath away. “For choosing me.”
