Bloodlust

Chapter Three

I glare at Anastasia, who looks as if she's ready to rip my throat out.

Alastair watches us with some slight amusement, but intervenes before either of us can do anything. "Nadya, listen," he says quietly. "You have never been afraid to voice your objections to the creation of the Blood Council. In your five hundred years of existence, you have failed to register with the Council and evade our summonings at every turn. 

"We cannot allow this to continue. It would ruin our standing amongst vampires. The werewolves already see us as weak, unable to control you, a vampire who is barely older than ourselves. But if you take this mission, Nadya, we will stop. We will allow you to live as you wish, save for infractions of the Law and stringent Council Order. You'll be free of this life."

I suck in a breath, my fangs slowly retracting into my gums. I'm not stupid; I know that I will be watched and monitered by the Council, followed, if they get to be bold. But freedom? From the Orders, from the Law...it's not exactly a bad deal. And one I've been hungering for for two hundred years.

"I won't take it until you tell me everything."

"Who's to say there's more?" Rockefeller asks.

"I've known quite a few witches, Rockefeller. They rarely make anything so simple."

Alastair sighs. "The witch must be a direct descendant of the original witch's family. She whose ancestors cast the curse must be there to recreate it."

"What family is it?"

Anastasia, ever perfect, flinches briefly. Flinches. "The Cadieuxs." 

I stare at her in disbelief. So, I assume, does Will and Niklaus. Zak exited a few minutes back, clearly unable to hear my bullshit. "Are you shitting me?"

"Nadya..." Alastair groans, hitting his head on the table.

"They hate me! Don't you remember that nasty business in 1936? Alastair? You were there! You remember Henrietta! Don't tell me you don't remember Henrietta, that bitch is hard to forget. Ruined the whole family!"

"SILENCE!" Alastair roars. I don't flinch, but I fall into quietness. Even I don't screw with Alastair on his angry days. The last time, he went Ripper on me. That was also in '36. Not a great year for me, if I'm being honest. "Nadya, you will put aside this petty brawl with the Cadieux family. You will go to France and recruit a Cadieux witch to enhance the spell around Henrik Lyricson. If you do not, you will be arrested and tried for treason against the Council."

I blink slowly. "What crawled up your ass and died?" 

"GO!" he roars again. "Niklaus and William will accompany you. They will report back to me and my fellow council members twice a week. We will know if you desert this mission, Nadya Telemun. We always know."

I am older than all of them, by a few dozen years. I could take them, if I wanted to. But unlike the Council, I know when to pick my battles. Is it really worth it to fight them on this? Cadieux witches, Henrik Lyricson, Will Amstraat, and Niklaus Ministers.

I suppose it could be worse. And for my freedom?

I guess I should take it.

"I'll take your deal, Alastair," I say finally, after waiting for a brief moment. "I'll capture a Cadieux witch. Whatever you want. But I want first-class accommodations, fully paid for, by the Council. And I want money."

Anastasia snorts. "You're just as bad as the tzar, Nadya."

I keep my face blank, void of expression. "I know. You told me that in 1936, too."

Like I said. A bad year, all around.

"How much?" Rockefeller asks, his first useful comment of the evening.

"Twenty million."

"Fine," Alastair says quickly, eliciting a dropped jaw from Will and a raised eyebrow from Niklaus.

"What the hell, Alastair?" Will complains. "I asked you for a twenty for a Subway sandwich and you said no."

Alastair stares at Will. "She could've asked for a lot more, William, and I'd have given it to her. Now go. Prepare yourselves. Don't come back until Henrik is recaptured."

I nod. "You know where to send it." 

fun fact! i lied, here's an update. :) 

stay hydrated k