“All right, you win,” I whisper.
The serpents slip their guns back into their holsters.
“Wonderful then.” Mark reaches out, inviting Soraya over. It’s the first time that I feel something close to jealousy—He shows her much more respect in front of the serpents than he ever showed me. She runs half of his business. Some people speculate she’s his sister, some that she’s his lover. Sadly, I know for a fact she’s neither.
Isolde
IT SEEMS THE STARS have finally aligned for me, and everything runs smoothly. Mark has called a small dinner party at the villa to celebrate the upcoming mission, and tomorrow Tristan and I will be on our way.
Mark spent most of the day in his office with Tristan, his men, and, of course, Soraya, while I’ve spent the final hours preparing for the journey. Happy. Happier than I’ve been in years. I actually sang while I packed—I’m so close to freedom from this monster.
But when I walk into the dining room later in the evening, my heart sinks. Of course, something had to go wrong, didn’t it? And that something knifes me straight through the heart.
Soraya’s arm is hooked around Tristan’s, looking like a true lady next to her ice prince. He doesn’t strike me as terribly uncomfortable with that either. Anger and a streak of despair tear through me.
I pick a tumbler of sparkling wine and skulk about, spying them from a distance. Jealousy bubbles in my chest.
But, after all, what the hell did I expect? It was clear from last night there wouldn’t be anything long term between Tristan and me. With an aching heart I realize that he and Soraya actually make a good match, her with her mysterious, reserved, feminine air, and him with his dangerous, forbidding aura.
As for me, I’m just a whining nurse, whose tears have always flowed too readily, and who could only be a drag and a burden for Tristan. I’m the damsel in distress, the princess in a tower that men are sick of. Too old fashioned, too sensitive, too whiny. I’m no match for this ice prince.
Fighting the tears, and refusing to make a fool of myself, I jut out my chin. No, I refuse to be stupid, and I refuse to be a victim again. I drain my tumbler.
What the fuck had I been thinking last night? I can’t have sex without getting emotionally involved, because of all the old-fashioned junk that I’m made of, but still. I should have known better than seducing the vampire assassin and expecting that it would mean to him what it meant to me.
I should focus only on freeing myself from Mark, and I resolve to keep my eyes fixed on that prize. I won’t let Tristan DeKnight throw me off route with his ice prince beauty, his sensual lips or his electric blue eyes full of power and danger.
“Isolde.”
I spin on my heels to see Mark heading toward me with Darius the alligator.
“You look stunning, my love.” He measures me theatrically from head to toes, taking my hand. “Spin for me, please.”
Of course, he has to make me look like a trophy wife in front of his men, remind them I don’t mean more to him than a piece of ass. I take a long swig of my sparkling wine before I pirouette for him. For the first time ever, I do it with drive, the shiny folds of my dress sweeping the floor like a spinning wheel.
“Wow.”
“I’m glad you approve of my look, husband.” I even smile at him. What the hell, why am doing this? Am I trying to make Tristan jealous?
The more wine I drink, the more I enjoy this game. I raise my chin, take Mark’s arm, and walk among the serpents with the dignity of a queen, even though they all know how he abused me. And when he actually leads me to sit down with Tristan and Soraya, I have the sickening feeling we’re not only on some deranged kind of double date, but also that Soraya is included in our plans.
It felt good trying to get Tristan’s attention from a distance, make him wonder about my open attitude towards my husband, but sitting face to face with him might expose my pretense. I’m not ready to play this game close up. Blood rushes to my face, and I have a nauseating feeling that everybody can see the truth about last night’s affair in my face. I’m also afraid Tristan can see too clearly that I have a full-blown crush on him.
“So this is how it’s going to go down,” Mark says, while arranging the white napkin on his lap before he starts eating. He continues talking while he eats, spewing crumbs every other sentence.
“Serpents will lay low in the villages around Ruben’s area, but I need someone on the inside, with the two of you.” Sure, he can’t leave us alone, can he? I can’t believe I actually hoped he would.
“Ruben surely knows most of my serpents, especially after one year in which they’ve been looking everywhere for him, but I still need someone. I’m a control freak, you know.” He glances meaningfully at Tristan, who’s sitting across from him. “No offense, I hope you understand. You’re a vampire, a natural enemy to serpents.”
“None taken.”
My eyes dart to Soraya as Mark mentions her name.
“Soraya is the least known of my people. She’s always kept a low profile, which proved a very smart strategy—designed especially for situations such as this one.” He turns his attention to me, which can only mean both Soraya and Tristan already know what he’s about to say. “Tristan will play the new priest in town. Orthodox priests need to be married before they’re assigned a parish, and Soraya will play his wife.”
The blood drains from my head, and I’m sure I’ll faint. But what I do is laugh, low, then burst out harder.
“You gotta be shitting me.” Fuck, jealousy is gonna expose my feelings for Tristan. I drop my fork, raise my tumbler, and say, “Congratulations then to the new happy couple.”
Mark takes my hand under the table, my stomach twisting at the slimy touch of his skin on mine. As for Tristan, he stares hard into my eyes, electricity lighting his irises. I can tell he’s uncomfortable, but he controls the expression of the rest of his face so well that I have no idea what he actually feels.
“For now it’ll be only for show, but I admit I do hope something more will come out of it.” He grins at Soraya and Tristan. The woman displays her usual quiet but sly smile, while Tristan doesn’t react at all.
“And where do I come into the picture?” I sip from my wine, damning it for not numbing my senses quickly enough.
“Tristan and Soraya will spend two weeks in the village, then they’ll send for you. This plan is centered on your set of skills, beloved wife.”
“Then cut to the chase already,” I prompt, edgier than ever. Mark’s back stiffens at my disrespecting tone, but then he chooses to let it go. I might have to pay for it later, though.
“It’s simple. The village already has a priest at the moment, but he’s so old he’s fucking ancient. He can’t even hold mass anymore, and the villagers have to take care of him and tend to his every need. Our boy Tristan will take his place in church, and soon afterwards send for someone with both the skills and the will to come to that remote village and take care of the old man—you.”
That is a good plan.
“You will stay with the ancient priest in his home, and you’ll milk him for information—what a great opportunity, isn’t it?” Mark says. “After awhile, you’ll confide in the old priest and a few other villagers that you escaped your abusive husband, and are looking for a way out of the country, with a new identity, if possible.”