“I’ll see what I can do.”
After Nadi left the room, she paused in the corridor, taking a moment to steady her breathing. The conversation replayed in her mind, fragments of truth and lies twisting together until she could barely separate one from the other.
She found Raziel waiting for her in the main foyer, his expression neutral but his eyes alert. He offered her his arm as they descended the grand staircase, leaving Volencia’s estate behind them.
It wasn’t until they were sealed in the privacy of his car, Ivan at the wheel and the privacy partition raised, that either of them spoke.
“Well?” He didn’t bother keeping his voice quiet. Ivan knew everything now. Nadi had to admit, unfortunately, that it was nice having someone “in” on the situation.
Nadi leaned back against the leather seat, suddenly exhausted. “They wanted to know where we’ve been for the past three days. I told them I was injured in the fight, but I left out your wounds.”
“And they believed you?”
She turned to look at him, studying the blank expression he wore, one that revealed nothing of the violent, desperate creature she had seen in his tower. Nothing of the man who had wept as he held her dying body.
“Mael did,” she finally replied. “He seemed genuinely concerned.”
Raziel’s expression hardened almost imperceptibly. “And Lana?”
“Lana is playing her own game.” Nadi shifted her gaze to the window, watching the metropolis blur past them. “And Mael asked where Braen’s ledger is.”
Raziel’s hands stilled in his lap. “That’s…interesting. How would he know about that?”
“I don’t know.”
“And what did you tell them?”
“That I had no idea where you’ve hidden it.” She sighed. And left it there. “Raziel, they’re both still trying to turn me against you. They’re convinced the wedding is going to change everything.”
“They’re not wrong about that,” he murmured, almost to himself.
Nadi felt a chill at his words. The wedding would change everything—just not in the way Mael and Lana expected. Not if Raziel and Nadi’s plan succeeded.
But as the car carried them back toward Raziel’s estate, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were all dancing on the edge of a precipice. That the intricate web of lies and conspiracies they had woven was about to unravel, one delicate strand at a time. It was clear that theirs wasn’t the only plan in play.
And she wasn’t sure any of them would survive the fall.
SEVENTEEN
Raziel watched the metropolis from the window of his study, a glass of bloodwine untouched in his hand. The meeting with his family had gone as well as could be expected—false pleasantries masking deadly politics and loathing. A Nostrom family tradition.
Night had fallen, the two moons hanging in the sky like mismatched eyes watching the world below. The Father moon, full and bright; the Mother moon, a thin black crescent cutting through the darkness, only visible in its darker emptiness.
Behind him, the door opened. Without turning, he knew it was Nadi. He’d recognize her sound and scent anywhere now—the pattern of her steps, and that faint hint of sea salt and something else, something fae, that lingered beneath whatever perfume she wore as Monica.
“You’ve been quiet since we returned.” Her footsteps were barely audible against the hardwood floor when she was herself. He wondered if that was because she was fae, or if that was because she was a practiced assassin.
Raziel turned, taking in the sight of her. She’d abandoned Monica’s appearance within the privacy of his home, and her pale green-blue skin was nearly luminescent in the low light. Hepreferred her this way—real, unfettered by the lies they wore like armor everywhere else.
“I’ve been thinking,” he replied, setting down his untouched glass. “About my siblings. About what they might have offered you. I know you’re considering taking their offers and turning on me, even now.”
Her expression tightened almost imperceptibly. Most wouldn’t have noticed, but Raziel had spent centuries reading the tiny signs in the expressions of his enemies. And despite everything, despite whatever was growing between them, Nadi remained a potential threat. Perhaps the most dangerous he’d ever encountered.
Not undoubtably so.
“You’ve known all along.” It wasn’t a question.
“I suspected.” He moved away from the window, circling his desk to stand before her. “Mael has always been transparent in his desires. And Lana…” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Lana has never seen a weapon she didn’t want to wield herself.”
