Dark Deception (Vampire Royals of New York #1) - Sarah Piper Page 0,114
faint and fading fast. “That’s enough. I think you’re…”
She tried to pull away again, but she didn’t have the strength. Her muscles finally relaxed, her heartbeat slowing, the numb acceptance settling over her.
Let her go, a voice warned in his head. Release her, or you’ll kill her...
Dorian squeezed his eyes shut, desperate to drown out the voice, to focus on the craving, the hunger, the deep haze of desire buzzing through his nervous system…
“Dorian,” Charlotte whispered again.
city streets run red with blood…
“Dorian, please.”
crimson city devil strikes again…
“I can’t fight you,” she said. “I’m not… strong enough.”
no closure on unsolved murders…
“Dorian, stop!”
Dorian opened his eyes.
The reality of his situation slammed into his chest, bringing everything into sharp, undiluted focus.
He yanked her wrist from his mouth and shot to his feet.
Charlotte collapsed.
“No. No! Charlotte!” He dropped to his knees and gathered her in his arms. He’d taken too much blood; her lips were nearly blue, her skin pale and clammy, her pulse thready.
He needed to heal her. Fast.
Fucking hell, he was ready to carve open his chest and give her every last drop of blood he’d taken from her, but he couldn’t. Dorian knew death when he saw it, and she was hovering right on the doorstep. If her heart stopped while his blood was in her system, it wouldn’t heal her.
It would turn her into a monster.
“What have I done?” he breathed.
“Dorian,” she whispered, her body twitching in his arms. “It’s… it’s okay.”
“No, it really isn’t.” His throat tightened, his heart cracking in half. How could he have been so foolish? So selfish? “I won’t let you die. Do hear me, Charlotte D’Amico? I won’t let you die.”
She lifted a trembling hand, pressing it to his cheek. “You… you’ve made me feel more alive than—”
“Shh. Save your strength, love.”
He scanned the bedroom, frantic. The demon she’d blasted was still unconscious, but that wouldn’t last much longer. Dorian knew more demons were already on the way—the scent of brimstone grew stronger with every breath. And while the shove through Dorian’s penthouse window may have temporarily stunned Duchanes, there was no way it’d killed him; vampires could jump great distances and still land on their feet.
Bloody hell, he didn’t want to move her, but he had no choice. The demons were closing in. There was no telling if Duchanes would return. They couldn’t stay here another minute.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes glazing with tears. “For… everything.”
“You’ve nothing to apologize for.”
“If you find… Forgive me… I didn’t…” Her eyelids fluttered, then closed, her body going limp in his arms.
“Hold on, Charlotte. Just hold on.” Dorian carried her to the bed and wrapped her in the sheet.
On the other side of the penthouse, the front door splintered, the demons rushing in like cockroaches.
Brushing the hair from her eyes, he pressed one last, desperate kiss to her mouth.
Then, lifting her into his arms and drawing her close, Dorian stepped to the window ledge, took a deep breath, and jumped.
Chapter Forty-Eight
The taste of blood lingered in Dorian’s throat, conspiring with the overwhelming scent of all those damn roses in Charlotte’s Park Avenue penthouse to make him dizzy. He paced the living room, a wild, frenetic energy chewing through his veins while Marlys tended to Charlotte in the bedroom.
Dorian had no idea what was happening—whether she was conscious, whether she’d survive the transfusion of blood and magic Marlys had planned. The witch had answered his desperate call, but the moment she’d arrived, she took one look at Charlotte, shook her head, then promptly booted Dorian from the bedroom with a spell he couldn’t break.
An hour later, when Dorian was about ready to set those roses on fire, his brothers arrived. Colin had known something was wrong when Dorian abruptly dropped their earlier call; he and the others had left Ravenswood that instant, bound for Manhattan.
Colin had been granted access to Charlotte’s room, offering his medical assistance while Marlys worked her magic.
Now, Gabriel and Malcolm watched Dorian with alternating looks of judgment, scorn, and pity.
Dorian wasn’t interested in any of it.
“I want this building monitored round the clock,” he said, shoving a hand through his hair. At this rate, he’d tear it all out by daybreak. “Charlotte and her sister must be kept safe.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Gabriel snapped.
Dorian stopped pacing long enough to glare at his brother. “Yes, you made that abundantly clear when you ignored my orders to keep an eye on her.”
“Children,” Malcolm warned. “Let’s not start this again, shall we?” He grabbed