Dark Deception (Vampire Royals of New York #1) - Sarah Piper Page 0,26

whatever he said next, she’d accept. Go home with him, strip off her clothes and take their chances right there in the park, anything. He was a drug to which she’d quickly become addicted, and despite the warnings blasting alarm bells in her head, she couldn’t walk away now.

It was too late.

The man took a breath and leaned in close. But before he could utter the words that would finally sway her, three assholes stepped out of the shadows, surrounding them.

In a flash, he turned to face the trio and pushed Charley behind him, positioning her between the oak at her back and his rigid body, spring-loaded and ready to fight.

One of them glared hard at her man, his facial piercings shining in the moonlight, eyes lighting up with an insane, inhuman hunger that had Charley immediately reaching for Beyoncé.

“Been looking for you, bloodsucker,” the pierced guy said. “Nice night for a little payback, ain’t it?”

Chapter Eleven

Brimstone soured the air, followed by a wave of heat that sent Dorian into a coughing fit. As the first spark took root inside his chest, he felt his tender pink lung tissue turning black, and in that moment, he knew two things.

One, he would die before he’d let any harm come to his woman.

And two, he had approximately three seconds before he was completely incinerated.

Without another thought, he rushed forward in a blur, colliding with Metalhead just as Blondie mysteriously dropped to the ground in a fit of spasms. For the second time in a handful of hours, Dorian sank his fangs into Metalhead’s artery, the putrid taste filling his mouth, temporarily easing his cough. He’d just noticed the stun-gun wires protruding from Blondie’s chest when another vampire blurred into view, smashing into the third attacker a mere instant before the demon got to his woman.

The new vamp tore into the demon’s throat with his bare hands, his signet ring flashing in a river of dark blood.

Fucking Duchanes.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” the woman cried out. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Dorian didn’t know who she was asking—him, Duchanes, the rotten demons themselves—but there was no time to answer. He needed to grab her, blur her someplace safe, and wipe her memories.

Now.

He dropped Metalhead on top of the still-trembling blond demon, glancing once more at Duchanes.

“Go,” Duchanes said. “I’ll take care of them.”

“You can’t kill them,” Dorian warned. “They’ll—”

“I’m not a newborn, Redthorne. You’d do well to remember it.” Duchanes finally released his prey, dropping him onto the pile with the others, the demon’s heartbeat faint but present.

Dorian shook his head. As much as he appreciated the assist—odds were, he would’ve been a pile of ash if the vampire hadn’t shown up—Duchanes wasn’t known for his altruism. And why the hell had he followed Dorian and the woman into the park in the first place?

“I said I’d take care of it.” Duchanes removed a white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood from his hands, paying special attention to his ring. “Get the woman out of here before the poor thing has a heart attack.”

Dorian turned toward the woman, who continued to stare at the scene before her, her eyes wide with horror, mouth opening and closing as if she couldn’t remember how to breathe.

He offered Duchanes a nod of thanks. The interrogation would have to wait.

“Come on, love. Let’s go.” He reached out for her, but she flinched away.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t you dare fucking touch me!”

Her words stung, but Dorian couldn’t blame her.

He couldn’t honor her request, either. The longer they stayed, the more likely trouble would find them.

Ignoring her protests, he wrapped his arms around the woman and blurred her back to the street, safe in a sea of strangers once again. She wobbled on her feet, her body instinctively reacting to the unnatural speed as her brain tried to process everything she’d seen.

Dorian hated what came next, but there was no way he’d leave her in this state. The demon attack, the brutal vampire counter-attack, the blurring… Such nightmares were his curse to bear; he wouldn’t allow them to darken her memories. Not now. Not ever.

Taking her face between his hands, he held her gaze and spoke softly, willing the compulsion to do its work. “You and I enjoyed a lovely, uneventful stroll through the park. We saw nothing out of the ordinary—just shared a few laughs and a lovely goodnight kiss.”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to compel her to accept his invitation home, but that