Page 40 of The Nephilim's Finesse

“Like witnessing two world wars? I can assure you, it was always dreadful. It is never exciting when people die in the hundreds or thousands. To see little children crying for their mothers, young men stumbling along the frontline, holding their cut-off arm in their hand…”

John held his hands up. “All right, I see your point. I just meant not to read it in books but to be there.”

A bitter laugh escaped. “Most of the time, you just try to survive.”

“But did you feel once that something big was about to happen?”

“One time or two, yes.”

“When?”

I tilted my head. “The beginning of the French Revolution....”

“You were there?” John’s voice was a pitch. I nodded. “Tell me everything about it! This is my bachelor's thesis.”

I glanced at Raph, who studied me intensely. “Another time,” I smiled at John.

“Just one thing. Did you stay in Paris the whole time?”

“No. After the Storming of the Bastille, I left Paris and stayed in Southern France for the next few years.”

A long glance towards Raph, who understood my look. It was his scent that reminded me so much of heaven on Earth.

“One last question: was Robespierre really such a tyrant?”

I sighed. “I met him only once at the beginning. He showed there that he was a power-hungry, cruel leader, ready to sacrifice everything for his cause. He and my sire got along splendidly.”

That was the reason I could escape the clutches of Thorne. He plotted with Robespierre, sensing that he could kill a lot of witches and warlocks during the chaos.

“Thank you so much!” He grinned at me and murmured to himself, memorising what I said about Robespierre.

I turned to Raph.

“He’s studying history,” Raph said in an apologetic tone.

“I figured," I deadpanned dryly. "The only thing worse than getting a degree in that subject is actually living through it.”

After John left my room, Raph sat upright in his chair, his dark eyes studying me. I stared back, refusing to be the first to look away. He leant forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "Five questions."

I gritted my teeth against the rage boiling inside me. He had no right to keep me here, interrogating me like a common criminal. I was four hundred years old, far more powerful than any Nephilim. Not ten minutes ago, we were entangled in passion, and now his appearance couldn’t be colder. I had to remember what he did was just a means to an end. He didn’t care for me or for us. He just did what he had to do to make me talk.

"Go ahead," I said stiffly.

"What are your intentions towards the local vampire clans?" His voice was deep and smooth, belying the threat behind his words.

I bristled at his curiosity and shot him a dark look. "That's none of your business."

"I could make it my business," he said way too softly.

My hands curled into fists in my lap as I struggled not to lash out. I might be his captive, but he couldn't force me to reveal what I didn't want to. Still, I knew continuing to refuse him wouldn't end well. With no other option, I answered, "Only the best.”

He frowned. "You'll have to be more specific than that."

“To unite them.” It was the truth.

Raph studied me as if trying to determine whether I lied. After a moment, he asked, "Why?"

I hesitated, loathe to reveal anything to him. But I’d made a deal with him. I sighed, dropping my gaze to my hands twisting in my lap. "So that we can fight for more rights. That we have the same standing as you Nephilim or the witches and warlocks. To be equal, as is our right."

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