Dark Deception (Vampire Royals of New York #1) - Sarah Piper Page 0,6

she was still a little girl.

Busy, she texted.

Charley didn’t bother waiting for his reply. She silenced the phone, donned her gloves, and got to work.

With clinical efficiency, she searched the suite’s massive oak dressers, vanity, night tables, bookcases, closets, master bathroom drawers, and medicine cabinets, looking for any information that might help. She found a few pieces of jewelry, some antique knickknacks, plenty of prescription drugs, and—bingo—a printout of the family’s travel itinerary. They’d be apartment-hunting in Greece for two weeks at the end of the month.

The opportunity was there, just as Rudy had hoped.

But the score? That wasn’t looking too promising.

The other three bedrooms were sparsely appointed, and Rudy wasn’t interested in a handful of jewels and some dusty figurines. Too late, Charley realized their initial intel must’ve been bad. Tonight wasn’t the first auction—it couldn’t have been. The massive trove of art and antiquities the crew had traced to this family were long gone, likely auctioned off in pieces over the last several weeks. All that remained was the small, somewhat odd collection in the living area.

A flood of conflicting feelings washed through Charley’s heart: relief for the family, that they wouldn’t have to endure a robbery. Disgust at herself, at her crew, for doing what they did. And of course, the dread that always preceded having to face Rudy empty-handed—a situation that was quickly becoming her norm.

Rudy wouldn’t tolerate it. Not for long.

Tears of frustration pricked her eyes, but Charley blinked them away. There was still one more room to search—the potential goldmine otherwise known as the study. Rich people kept all kinds of important shit in there, like it was some kind of private Fort Knox no thief would ever penetrate.

For her sake, Charley hoped that was the case tonight.

“Saving the best for last,” she whispered hopefully, turning to exit the smallest bedroom.

But she couldn’t. Towering in the doorway, a huge beast of a man blocked her path.

It wasn’t the security guard, but a guest she’d spotted at the bar earlier. Now, he was grinning at Charley like she was a prized piece of art he’d won.

“Oh, hi!” she said brightly, pressing a hand to her chest to keep her heart from bursting out. “I didn’t see you.”

Tall and imposing, with dark, malicious eyes that matched his expensive charcoal-gray suit, he folded his arms over his chest and grinned. “Lost, little one?”

“No, I… I’m looking for—”

“Yes,” the man said, taking a few steps toward her. “Do tell me what you’re looking for, here in the private bedrooms of our hosts.”

The icy tone in his voice sent chills down her spine. Beyond the fact that he’d busted her, there was something off about the guy.

The word unnatural popped into her head. He was too still, even when he moved. Too calm.

And now he had her cornered.

“Tampons,” Charley blurted out, forcing an embarrassed giggle as she reached inside her purse and gripped Beyoncé, her trusty taser. “I was looking for tampons. Don’t suppose you’ve got any?”

The man didn’t flinch, and he sure wasn’t buying her ditzy female act, either. He took another step forward, forcing her back into the bedroom. The chill in his eyes shifted to solid ice, a look of deadly determination Charley knew all too well.

Shit. She really, really didn’t want to tase the guy. Tasing meant causing a scene. It meant people asking questions and calling the cops. It meant getting noticed.

But she wasn’t about to let this guy fuck with her, either.

“Back off, asshole,” she warned, her Jersey-girl soul breaking through the refined exterior as she pointed Beyoncé at his crotch. “Or I’ll send you home with a stutter and a smoking dick.”

He grinned and raised his hands in surrender, and for a second Charley thought it was done. But then he lunged for her, knocking her purse and weapon to the ground, crushing her upper arms in a bruising grip.

Without hesitation, she slammed her knee into his exposed crotch.

But he didn’t go down. Didn’t even grunt. Just kept grinning at her, his teeth long and sharp and…

Are those fangs?

Charley didn’t waste time second-guessing. She threw herself forward, the unexpected move buying her a momentary reprieve from his clutches, but then he was right back in her face again, hauling her against the brick wall of his chest as he kicked the door shut behind them.

The door didn’t slam, though.

Someone caught it.

“Is everything all right in here?” A smooth, deep-voiced English accent wrapped around her like a hot bath, and when the man