Page 26 of Let Sleeping Vampires Lie

“Why not?” I asked. “If it gets us the piece.”

Marcus rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s well known in my circles that Dimitri is one of my buyers. He has purchased many expensive pieces. He was a favorite among the high-risk handlers. They loved him.”

“Of course they did,” I muttered. “Blood money spends the same as clean money.”

Marcus didn’t disagree.

Con inched closer, his presence grounding the room. “If using Dimitri’s name gets us to the seller, then we do it.”

I stared at him.

He stared back.

This wasn’t a casual suggestion. It was a decision he had already accepted as necessary. He’d walked into countless battlefields carrying worse burdens.

But this wasn’t a battlefield.

This was me being asked to play puppet for the one man I hated more than death itself.

“I would rather gargle acid than be Dimitri’s bitch,” I said.

The words came out bitter, too honest. Jana blinked at me in shock, and Isra managed a weak sound that might have been an almost-laugh if his heart wasn’t breaking in front of us.

Con didn’t flinch.

“It’s for Rene,” he said.

Three words. Simple. True. They stripped every knee-jerk protest from my throat.

Raven reached for my arm, her touch light but firm. “Cass,” she whispered, “if it were me, Rene would do anything. Anything. Even work with the worst of his enemies.”

Her voice cracked on the last word.

I closed my eyes for a moment, swallowing the knot rising in my chest. Rene dying wasn’t an option. The clan collapsing wasn’t an option. And letting Valerian win… that truly wasn’t an option.

“I know,” I murmured.

When I opened my eyes again, Marcus was watching me with a mixture of uncertainty and respect. He didn’t seem offended by my earlier comment. If anything, he seemed relieved that someone else understood how disgusting this would be.

I stepped toward him.

“Use his name,” I said. “Tell your contacts Dimitri is trying to recover a piece he lost. Tell them he has a buyer willing to pay whatever it takes.”

Marcus nodded once. “I can do that. I’ll start by contacting the networks that handle supernatural items. They’re more discreet but greedy. They won’t pass up a chance to negotiate with someone connected to Dimitri. His reputation still carries weight.”

“Rotten weight,” Jana muttered under her breath.

Marcus’ lips curved into a brief, humorless smile. “Rotten, yes. But effective.”

Isra sat down heavily, the fabric of his gown pooling around him like a bleeding sunset. His makeup shimmered in the soft light, highlighting every tremor in his expression.

“Tell me what we need to do,” he said again, voice barely above a whisper. “Just tell me how to help.”

I knelt in front of him, my hands resting gently over his. He looked at me with eyes full of pain and fear and love, for Raven, for Rene, for Jana, for all of us. And for Marcus, even now.

“Let Marcus do this first,” I said. “If the seller bites, I’ll go in to buy the piece under his banner.”

“And if they don’t bite?” Isra asked softly.