Page 64 of The Nephilim's Finesse

“You don’t care if the world as we know it is destroyed?”

“Ha, as if we live in a world as we know it. Those humans did a fine job of destroying it the best they could. Do they deserve to live here anymore?”

“What about you? Do you want to live in a world ruled by demons?”

“I don’t care.” He leant back and closed his eyes. “I’m six hundred and forty-five years old, Victorija. I’m tired. I want to be with my wife. After all the witches and warlocks are dead, I have no reason to stay any longer. I want this to end.”

He opened his eyes and looked at me, searching my face to see if I understood. I was driven by revenge for a long time; I knew how Thorne felt. Yet, during my time with Raph, I’d started to see things in a new light. Not everyone was bad on their side. They killed one of us, and we took revenge, which resulted in their revenge. We’d been going in circles for centuries, or even for millennia. There were only two options to end this: making peace or having one group annihilate the other. I searched my heart for what I felt about Thorne’s proposal. Ten years ago, I'd have been over the moon with the prospect of killing all our foes. Who was I kidding? Half a year ago, I tried to do it myself. But now, I wanted peace. I didn’t want the Nephilim, especially Raph and John, to die. I didn’t care if any witches or warlocks lived as long as they didn’t bother me. I wanted equality, not annihilation.

However, I knew that Thorne wouldn't stop until he had what he wanted. That meant that I had to stop him. For that, I had to learn of his exact plans.

18 Raph

I paced before John. This was bad. No, it was an absolute disaster. First, John lost his hand, which made him unable to fight for an unknown period of time. He also had to overcome the trauma of trusting someone and being betrayed. Furthermore, John had to learn to live with his disability. There were prosthetics, but I feared his mental damage for letting his guard down would take years to recover from. What had I done? I’d made her do it, threatened to keep her forever, pushing her to extreme measures to get free. I’d fucked up hard.

Second, we’d lost Victorija. She was in our custody, and we agreed that we‘d keep her, prohibiting her from doing any harm. The witches and the fae counted on us. I’d failed them. And more importantly, I’d failed the brotherhood. Yes, John made a mistake, but he was my mentee; I was responsible for his actions. I was at a meeting with Seraphina, the fae Queen Tourmaline and Thorne, Victorija's sire. He didn't intend on getting her back. He had stated that he didn’t care if we kept her or killed her. Of course, it'd aid his interests if we got her out of the way. He made impossible demands from us, threatening to raise a demon army and kill all of the magical world. The humans he'd enslave, keeping them as livestock. Thorne painted an absolute horror scenario, and I believed every word he said after the fear in Victorija’s eyes when I said his name. I didn’t know what he had done to her or what he made her do, but he was responsible for some of her nightmares. For that alone, I wanted to rip out his throat. His world-ending threats didn’t make it easier to stay calm and deny his requests. But to yield to the vampires and become their slaves and do their bidding, just to let us live, was an offer we couldn't accept. He was ruthless, and his mind was long gone, insanity consuming him.

Which led me to the third point. I was worried about Victorija. She'd try to reclaim her power. What would he do to her? Would he kill her? Maim her? I wanted to get to her, take her back, and bring her to safety. It wasn't just that I wanted her back because she fled or I believed she was in danger. No, the main reason was that I missed her. I wanted her back for selfish reasons: to bury my nose in her neck, feel her lips on mine, and spend time with her.

“How could this happen?” Puriel paced before John, her brows furrowed.

John looked at me for help. Stepping in front of him, Puriel blocked his view.

“No, you answer to me! How could you be so stupid to let her take your hand? Walk me through this step by step!”

“I…I was bound to the bed,” whispered John, shaking with fear.

“And how did that happen exactly?” Puriel crossed her arms before her, turning to me, her eyes gleaming dangerously in the light.

My heart hammered in my chest. This was the moment I dreaded. I was worried that they wouldn’t accept what I’d done for them, or worse, that they would see what had developed out of this arrangement. “I made a deal with Victorija to get her talking. One orgasm for one answer.”

“I beg your pardon? You did what?” Puriel's voice cracked.

Nate chuckled. “Impressive, cunning, even brilliant if it hadn’t backfired.”

“He wasn’t supposed to go in there alone,” I said defensively.

An indignant flash of anger washed over Puriel; she looked down her nose at me. “Oh, you think she wouldn't have done that if it had been you? Raph, are you daft?”

I pressed my lips together. Victorija had had the opportunity to take my hand or my life, but she hadn’t. Maybe with the knowledge that Thorne was back, she’d got ruthless. Or my possessiveness had made her act. I should never have told her that her sire was in London or shown my jealousy. My insecurity made me want to control her, keep her with me, and never let her go. I cornered her, and she took the first opportunity to break out. It was all my fault.

“Or are you in love?” Nate added.

I just glared at him, not wanting to admit anything.

“It was a means to an end,” John said into the silence. “It worked well, and it was the only thing we could do to get her talking. Besides, you don’t know anything about her. You can’t judge someone until you understand their position, can you? She isn’t as evil as you think.”

“Says the one who has one hand less thanks to that monster.”

I balled my fists, swallowing my anger at Puriel's words. Nate observed me closely and shook his head lightly. He knew exactly how things stood with me.

"It doesn’t change anything if we argue here. We have to see what she makes with her freedom. In the best case, she aids us. If not, we’ve beaten her once, and we can do it again," suggested Nate.

"But then, for good," said Puriel with ice in her voice.

The next few days were pure agony. Was she all right? Should I reach out to her? Surely, Victorija was relieved to be free again; that was what she desired most. But did she miss me a bit, too? Did she miss being in my arms, or did she just play along to lure me in? If so, she had been successful. Since she was gone, I realised that I had developed feelings for her in the last couple of months. Yes, I got possessive of her, didn’t want her to be intimate with someone else but me, got jealous when I heard of her sire, and assumed they were close, yet I had never understood the full force of it.

I loved her.

---