Page 12 of The Nephilim's Finesse

The queen hesitated for a moment, seeming to gather her thoughts before replying. "We have knowledge of the vampires' recent advances, their plans, their strengths, and their weaknesses. We are familiar with their tactics and can help form a strategy to counteract their moves."

The sincerity in her voice was evident, but despite this, I could see the scepticism etched deep into both Seraphina's and Gerald's pale faces. I doubted that the fae knew much: Victorija wouldn’t tell her everything or anything more than she absolutely needed to know, but it was better than nothing. Nate wanted an alliance, and I was sure that it was the smartest move to work together instead of against each other. Looking at Seraphina and Gerald, I knew it'd take more than words to convince them.

"Even though we have every reason to doubt Queen Tourmaline, we must consider the possibility that she's genuine in her intentions," I began. "If we allow our fear and mistrust to cloud our judgement, then we've already lost to Victorija."

Seraphina frowned, contemplating my words. Slowly, she uncrossed her arms, her expression softening ever so slightly. "You may be right, Raph," she admitted begrudgingly, "but we must tread carefully. One wrong move could cost us everything."

"Agreed," Gerald chimed in, still unsure but willing to entertain the idea for now.

I turned to Queen Tourmaline, watching as a glimmer of hope sparked within her eyes. I knew that the renewal of the alliance was risky and the path ahead uncertain, but deep down, I believed that it was our best chance to defeat the darkness that threatened to engulf us all.

"Let's work together to bring Victorija down," Seraphina declared, her voice strong and unwavering. "From this moment on, we’re allies again."

The heavy iron door, interlaced with silver, opened silently as I entered Victorija's dimly lit cell. Only the night lamp was casting some light through the room. Her captivating presence was unmistakable as she sat regally in the chair, her slender form draped in shadows like an ethereal apparition. My heart raced involuntarily at her sight. I switched on the main light, and she squeezed her eyes together to protect them from the brightness.

"Victorija," I said, my voice betraying my frustration. "We've been through this countless times. You need to tell me what you're planning."

Her lips curved into a smile that both enticed and infuriated me. I knew that her eyes would get glassy in the next few minutes as she looked through me, switching off. I knew she wouldn't answer even one of my questions, but I had to try. It was maddening that I had to do this senseless thing over and over again.

“With whom do you work with?”

Silence.

"I need you to tell me the truth. Have you made a pact with a demon?"

She gazed back at me with icy indifference.

“Who were your associates? Where are all the vampire hideouts?” I asked through gritted teeth, feeling my frustration surface.

Victorija sat smugly in her seat, lips sealed tight despite my best efforts. Puriel and I had tried everything—threats, bribes, torture—but nothing shook her iron resolve. How'd she do it? How could she resist so well? It drove me crazy. In spite of my relentless attempts, she remained a sealed vault, never betraying her secrets. As I watched her brush a strand of red hair behind one ear, my heart pounded in my chest, fuelled by both rage and desire. I stepped closer, towering over her, my broad form hopefully intimidating enough to make her talk. Without my consent, a thought sprang to my mind. If I reached out now, I could pull her into my arms and claim her lips in a fiery kiss. No, I couldn't—I wouldn't. I reminded myself how much I hated her, that she was the enemy, that she killed Luthriel.

My frustration mounted, both with Victorija's silence and her undeniable pull on me. I needed to break through her defences, to uncover her secrets and protect those I cared for—but how could I do that when just being near her threatened to shatter my own? My heart raced as I continued to fire questions at Victorija; each one met with a steely silence. As her refusal to reply stoked my ever-increasing annoyance, I balled my hands into tight fists.

"Victorija," I snapped, "you're not making this easy for either of us. Are you daft or just stubborn?"

Her eyes blazed like emerald flames as she looked at me, and in an instant, she was on her feet, her lithe form coiled like a spring ready to unleash its stored energy. The sudden transformation sent a chill down my spine, reminding me once more of the deadly creature she truly was. Even though she only reached my chest, I had no doubt that a fight with her was dangerous, although her power was suppressed in this room. I still remember the balanced fight in front of our headquarters, which ended with a razor-thin victory for me.

"Daft?" she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "You think I'm daft? Over the centuries, I've devoted myself to the pursuit of knowledge. Astrophysics, philosophy, art—what haven't I studied? I'm a well of knowledge compared to you!"

As she spoke, I found myself captivated by the passion in her voice and the way her eyes seemed to come alive when she talked about her many intellectual interests. It was clear that she took pride in her intellect, and maybe I could use that.

"Then why won't you share your plans with me?" I implored, my voice softening as I tried to appeal to her sense of reason. "Surely someone as knowledgeable as yourself can see the value in cooperation."

She cocked her head to the side, arms crossed before her breasts, considering my words for a moment before responding. "Perhaps it's not my intelligence you should be questioning, but your own motivations," she countered, her voice cool and measured.

My pulse quickened as I thought about what she’d just said, trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind her words. Was she implying that my attraction to her was clouding my judgement? Did she suspect something? Or was there something else at play here, some ulterior motive I had yet to uncover?

"I only want the truth," I insisted, my mind racing with possibilities. "That's all I've ever wanted."

"Then keep searching," she murmured, her gaze locking onto mine with a captivating intensity. "But be careful what you wish for, Raph. Some truths are better left undiscovered."

As she spoke, a shudder of anticipation coursed through me, an unsettling mixture of excitement and dread. It was becoming increasingly apparent that Victorija was far more than just a beautiful enigma—she was a force to be reckoned with. I had the feeling that her secrets could either save or destroy us all.

I noticed the new bookshelf on the wall as I walked into our office. Taking a closer look, I saw it was filled with ancient books on demonology and angelic lore. Nodding with satisfaction, I sat down at my desk. I took a deep breath, trying to settle my nerves as I started my laptop. Being one of the leaders of the Nephilim came with a lot of responsibilities, and even after six weeks, I couldn't get used to it yet. Asasel had been our leader for decades, and it was a big change for everyone. My new job required me not only to lead but also to protect the Nephilim from the dark forces that threatened them. I could feel the weight of this responsibility bearing down on me. It was a far cry from my job as an addiction counselor, trying to help humans in need. There, I had to be reactive. As a good leader, I had to be proactive. Luckily, I wasn't alone. I was reassured by the thought that Nate and Puriel stood by my side, especially in these challenging times. If we couldn’t do it together, nobody could. All the other Nephilim counted on us. I leaned back in my chair, my mind racing with all the things I needed to do to get the brotherhood up to speed. Simultaneously, I still had to work as a social worker and help those who needed it. It'd be tough to balance both jobs, but I couldn't let either of them slip. I logged in and started jotting down notes for our next meeting, determined to make this work. A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.

"Come in," I said, looking up.

It was Azariel, one of my closest friends. She was a tall woman, like every Nephilim, with brown eyes and brown hair in a ponytail. Azariel already wore her sports clothes. As our fighting instructor, she had training in fifteen minutes, as a look at the clock confirmed.

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