The words came easily, without emotion. A simple tactical assessment. We’d been raised by a vampire who viewed emotions as tactical disadvantages. Sentiment was a luxury for those without enemies.
“And if she’s neither?” he pressed.
“Then she’s collateral damage in whatever game Arabesque is playing. Either way, she’s not our concern beyond ensuring she doesn’t compromise our position before we part ways after the year.”
“Or parther,” Zane smirked with a leer.“How many potential bride elimination scenarios have you constructed, Cas?
“Seventeen, each with their own set of contingencies.” I shrugged. “Look, Ko, regardless of the woman, the job remains the same: Secure the estate, establish defensive perimeters, and maintain vigilance for the duration of the contract.”
Ko frowned. He’d been stuck on the scenario that she was a victim, an innocent, ever since we returned from Father’s palace.
As if,I scoffed silently.This isn’t a moon-damned fairy tale! A virtuous soul doesn’t just stumble into a Dark witch’s web!
Unless she had somehow.
It was a ridiculous variable, one that didn’t deserve my consideration, but I decided I’d create a spreadsheet for it nonetheless. Just to be thorough, not because it was a probability.
“Time to move,” I announced, shouldering my bag. “Ko, you’re driving. Z, rear security. I’ll take point.”
They nodded, falling into the familiar pattern without complaint. Three brothers, moving with the synchronicity that came from years of fighting side by side. We might bicker and snipe, but when it mattered, we functioned as a single unit.
As we pulled away from the curb, I watched our apartment building recede in the side mirror. No emotional attachment there, just another temporary shelter in a lifetime of transience.
Our next destination: An estate with security, staff, and financial resources. A base of operations we could fortify and defend. And a bride who might be victim, villain, or something in between.
Well, whatever she turned out to be, I was prepared. We all were. No illusions. No sentimentality. No mercy.
Just survival.
Same as every other day.
#
Zane
I tossed a silver dagger into the air, catching it by the blade between two fingers just to see Casimir’s left eye twitch. My favorite pastime. Annoying my older brother while he tried to be all serious and strategic. The way his jaw clenched as he pretended not to notice? Pure poetry. I lounged in the back seat, one foot propped up on a gun crate.
“So,” I drawled, spinning the dagger on one fingertip, “who wants to bet on how many people our lovely bride-to-be has murdered? I’m putting fifty on at least three. Dark witch training and all that.”
“This isn’t a joke, Zane.”
“Everything’s a joke if you’re funny enough,” I told Koa, grinning as I flipped the dagger into a sheath on my belt. “C’mon, lighten up. We’re getting a free house, a fat treasury, and front-row seats to whatever disaster Arabesque has planned. If that’s not entertainment, I don’t know what is.”
“Zane, I am trying to work.” Cas didn’t even bother glancing my way as he tapped on his precious tablet. “Occupy yourself with something that does not continually assault my ears.”
“Yes, sir, Captain No-Fun, sir,” I saluted and pretended to zip my mouth closed. For five seconds. “Do we get fancy new clothes for this shindig? Or do we just show up bloody and shirtless like usual? I want to make a good first impression on Future Widow.”
That made Cas’ head snap up, green eyes narrowing at me over his shoulder.
“Futurewhat?”
“Widow,” I repeated cheerfully. “You know, since we’re either going to kill her or she’s going to try to kill us. Either way, someone’s ending up dead and widowed, and my money’s on us surviving. Hence, Future Widow.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Cas huffed. “If she’s the dead one, she’s not a widow.”
“What is she, then? Huh?Huh?” I pestered to get a rise out of our resident cyborg.
“Justdead, you dumbass!” he snarled. “Wewould be widowers.Shewould just be dead.”
