Chapter 66 Lazaret's Heart
CHAPTER SIXTY SIX
Natasha's POV~
I sat on a metal table, the glow of my laptop giving my face sharp shadows, my voice detached, as I mumbled, “Valenticia’s done. My fingers danced across the keys, concluding plans for a serum leak—Lazareth’s weaponized formula, a present to black-market clients that would seal my bid for elevation in Galden. Long strands of my auburn hair swung into an eye, and I swept the hair away, leather jacket creaking, panic like a faulty bulb—Gregor is going to leave me, isn’t he? His control, his icy orders from that penthouse throne grated, a leash I’d snap once I held the reins. Valenticia Clawford’s relentless search — her coastal lab raid, her archive breach — was a thorn, her tenacity a reflection of me, but it unsettled me and raised an inconsistency in my armor I could not swat away.
My meddling at Lena Voss’s lab, trading tainted vials on Gregor’s behalf had been my ambition, a silent coup to back my worth. I chuckled slightly, remembering that smudged N. A. mark I had left, a sign that Lena would have lost office searching for one night too late. But Valenticia’s survival, her record of inextinguishable fire, troubled me, and fear whispered: What if she bests me? I keyed in a file, Lazareth’s serum data—memory suppression absolute, tool to the mind twister—and my mouth pulled back in a smile as I envisioned Valenticia defeated, her antidote worthless. She’s a pawn, I reminded myself, yet her mother, Eleanor, Gregor’s aunt, cast a shadow in my mind, a whistleblower making a specter of Galden’s halls. “It’s nothing.” I shook my head and stomped my boots on the concrete, the declaration solidifying inside me—I’m not a pawn, and she’ll crumble.
A memory pierced: unbidden, sharp as a knife: Dmitri, my lover, his promises of power in the shadows of Moscow, his betrayal when he sold me to my rivals. “You’re too hungry, Natasha,” he’d sneered, a blade at my throat, and I’d burst free, hands bloodied, his poison at the root of my skinflint loose. I clenched my jaw, then paused, flickering with fear—will Gregor give them to me, too? I swallowed the hurt, my hands clenching the table, the sound of Seryne’s oceans a faint drone from outside the window. Dmitri’s lesson was clear: Never trust anyone, but be the first to strike. Valenticia’s investigation of Lazareth, her bookshop note—Antidote’s——key—Lazareth— was the threat I would wrestle to the ground, her resistance a dare I would answer with fire.
My phone vibrated, intercepted email pulsing: Patel to Valenticia, Natasha linked to Lazareth, serum shipment. My breath hissed through fury, spitting And that little weakling chemist betrayed me? Patel’s evidence, a deleted fragment I’d thought buried, was a noose tightening, and I slammed the laptop shut fear surging— she was closer than I thought. I paced the bunker in the dim flicker light, my mind racing. Valenticia’s Lazareth probe, her excavation, was a barrier to my plans, and I’d trip her up, leave bread crumbs, dead-end formulas. “I’ll have her falling,” I promised in a low voice. I hacked Patel’s server, and left a decoy email — I wiped up the blood and spilled coffee and slime, my fingers still as a cockroach nest even as nerve pulsing panic shook through me. Let her chase ghosts, I thought, lips curling, but Valenticia’s fire, her mother’s echo abreast — that haunted, wouldn’t budge.
“Do you want dessert”? After the café with Stefan haunted me, his hand on my hand, his eyes watchful and inquisitive, it became possible again to have this particular interest in things. Was he playing me? I’d seen him test his loyalty, to extricate him from the orbit of Valencia, but his few uncertain words, his brief look away, had made me wonder. Fear tingled — is it Gregor’s, or hers? My fingers touched the knife in my jacket — reflexive — and replayed his words: “I’m investigating Galden, for her”. Lies, or a deeper game? Dmitri’s betrayal had taught me to trust none, and Stefan’s preoccupation, his interest in me was a riddle that I would puzzle over another time. For now, if nothing else, it was Valenticia who was the mark, her cure the weak flame I would extinguish, her heart the one left raw by Stefan’s secret and the one I would use against him.
I turned to another file, Lazareth’s shipping schedule and it was clear – only a leak of the serum to interested buyers, and the framing of Valenticia before Gregor’s wrath …. I smirked again, desire burning hot—I’ll rise, and she’ll burn. Chills crept over me in the bunker, but I paid them no heed as I remained laser-beam focused. I’d set Lena’s lab explosives, spoilt the vials and now I’d go and rig Lazarath’s trail, false leads to ensnare Valenticia. The fear still hovered, a ghost — what if Gregor watched my moves? His mistrust, his cold look on our last call, was a warning, but I’d outmaneuver him, show my indispensability. I’m not Dmitri, I told myself, clenching my jaw, my iron will, hard against the fear that crackled like static.
I heard a foreign-coded call, their side of the lines for me, I answered with a honeyed voice, “Yes, what do you require?” They were a whip, his voice—distorted but his—“NOW, Natasha! Valenticia’s in too deep her investigation”. I felt my heart race, fear as a shadow but I nodded jumping that I would outmaneuver Valenticia, her persistence a fire I would put out.