Dark Deception (Vampire Royals of New York #1) - Sarah Piper Page 0,92
stuffing their coffers in exchange for answers they don’t actually have.”
“That about sums it up.” She let out a faint laugh. “How did they even get here?”
“The demons?”
“Yes. And the shifters. And the vampires. And the witches. All of you. You said the religious institutions pick and choose, but do you even know?”
“We have our histories and legends, just like you.” He finally turned to face her again, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “Most of it, as you might imagine, can be traced back to witches.”
“Tell me,” she said, completely captivated.
“Witches are the world’s oldest magicians, guardians of elemental magic and the liminal spaces between all realms. As such, they are tireless explorers and experimenters. It’s said they created the first vampires through complex blood rites, all in service to deepening their practice of healing magic and immortality spells. Their deep connections with animal familiars allowed them to literally experience the lives and gifts of these creatures, and from there, create the first shifters.”
“And the demons?”
“The demons are creatures of hell, but the witches—eager to access and experiment with their dark and immeasurable powers—opened the gates that allow demons to pass between realms.”
Charlotte’s eyes were full of wonder. “So all of these beings… they’re here? Around us?”
“Constantly, though humans greatly outnumber us, and rarely learn of our existence. It’s better for everyone that we remain a secret.”
“But still! This is one town, in one state, in one country, and I’ve already encountered more vampires than I can count on one hand. How are you all not killing each other or trying to take over the world?”
“How do you know we aren’t?” He flashed a dark smile, but then shook his head, the shadow of his responsibilities never far from his thoughts. “The supernatural races co-exist through a tenuous policy of mutually assured destruction. Conflicts lead to discovery, and widespread discovery would almost certainly lead to our extinction. For that reason, it’s in everyone’s best interest to avoid killing each other.”
“And killing humans.”
“Precisely.”
“What about Duchanes? And the vampires who attacked us in the park?”
“The men in the park were demons. As for Duchanes…” Dorian seethed with fresh anger at the mention of his name, his vision clouding with red. “He will be dealt with accordingly.”
Even now, Malcolm and Gabriel were on the hunt, sweeping the area around Ravenswood while Aiden had returned to Manhattan, seeing what rumors he might unearth from the other greater vampire families. Colin had spent the night in the crypts, where he was still undoubtedly poring over their father’s journals.
“But what if—”
“I don’t want you to worry about him. I don’t want you to worry about any vampires, or demons, or bogeymen, or even a lowly paper cut.” He took her face between his hands, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs, the very idea of anything hurting her sending him into a dark inner rage. “I meant what I said last night, Charlotte. You’re mine.”
Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “What does that even mean? You hardly know me.”
“I’ve been alive for two hundred and fifty years, Charlotte. I hardly know anyone, and it’s hardly a prerequisite for a promise.”
“What promise?”
“That I won’t let anything happen to you. Ever.”
At this, a tear slipped down her cheek, and he brushed it away. Then, tracing a path over her eyebrow, he said, “I think I’ve already learned something about you. See, this one arches a certain way when you’re having a good think.”
Charlotte smiled, and it felt like the sun had just burst through the clouds. “Just that one?”
“It’s one of your beautiful mysteries. So what is it, love? Tell me what else is on your mind.”
She shifted closer to him, tucking herself into the spot beneath his shoulder. “This might be a personal question.”
“Aren’t they all?” Dorian put his arm around her, pulling her even closer, pressing a kiss to her head. Her hair smelled different today—she’d used his shampoo last night—but he could still sense the orange-and-vanilla beneath it, and he took a deep inhale.
“How… how did you become a vampire?” she asked.
He’d known it was coming, but still, the question slammed into his heart, rattling against the iron gates and knocking something loose.
“That’s… not an easy story.” And outside of those precious few who’d lived through it themselves, Dorian had never shared it with another soul. It lingered, as so many of his ghosts, in the deep recesses of a fractured mind, in the darkest parts of a shuttered heart.