yourself.”
“Wait. You… you knew.” Charley stared open-mouthed as the realization struck, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. He was Dorian’s oldest friend—and a damn good one at that. She suspected there weren’t an awful lot of secrets between them.
“Cole as well,” Aiden admitted. “Dorian’s not one for gossip. He simply wanted us to understand the situation before we approached Estas.”
Another flame of guilt licked down her spine, but Charley nodded. Her own mortification aside, it was good Dorian had told them. They had a right to know what kind of person they were fighting for. What kind of person had caused so much destruction.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I realize those are just words, but for what it’s worth… I know you’re all risking a lot for me. I… I guess I’m still working on deserving it.”
“Dorian is my brother, Ms. D’Amico, in all the ways that count. He loves you, he trusts you, and he’s forgiven you.” He reached across the table and took her hand, giving her an encouraging squeeze. “That’s enough for me. Let it be enough for you as well.”
She pulled her hand back and lowered her gaze, blinking back tears. “I want to. Really. I just… Sometimes I still can’t believe he stayed, you know? It would’ve been so easy for him to walk away—to avoid all of this. He had so many opportunities to bail, but he never did. Not really.”
“Nor will he.” Aiden let out a soft sigh. “Dorian Redthorne is, among other things, a complicated vampire. I’ve known him for centuries—literal centuries. I’ve seen him through the worst moments of his life as well as the best. Through all of them, he’s carried a darkness inside him that would utterly annihilate a lesser man… And then he met you.”
“But that’s the thing,” Charley said, finally meeting Aiden’s eyes again. “He’s not dark, Aiden. He’s haunted by darkness, he struggles with it, but the darkness itself—it’s not who he is.”
“No, it isn’t.” Aiden’s eyes shone with affection. “And you’re helping him remember it, I think. For that, I’m grateful to you, Ms. D’Amico.”
Charley’s heart ached, but she managed a small smile anyway. “Then as a show of your gratitude,” she teased, “you need to call me Charlotte. Or Charley. Take your pick.”
“Very well, Charlotte. But now, I should let you get back to bed. I promised Dori I’d look after you, and here I am, chatting your ear off.” He rose from the table. “I’ll come check on you again in a bit.”
“Wait.” She reached up and touched his arm. “Don’t go. I… I won’t be able to get back to sleep anyway.”
“You must try, Charlotte. Dorian will be back later, and I’m sure he’ll have good news. There’s nothing more you can do right now.”
“I need to at least attempt to figure this thing out. And to be honest, I could use the company… if you’re up for it?”
Aiden held her gaze another moment, then finally nodded. “Very well. I’ll put the kettle on, and you can tell me everything you remember about what happened last night. Perhaps we missed a clue.”
Charley nodded. It was a good idea, especially now that her head had cleared a bit.
“Mind if I crash your little tea party?” Cole stepped in through the garage door, his face and flannel smudged with dirt, a rogue maple leaf dangling from his scruffy beard. Like Aiden, he clearly hadn’t slept last night, but his smile was warm and genuine. When he shot her a quick wink, it filled Charley with hope and relief.
They were good men, Dorian’s friends. And for reasons she still couldn’t fathom, they’d taken her in and made her one of their own, faults and fuckups and all.
“How do you take your tea, wolf?” Aiden asked, brushing the leaf from Cole’s beard.
Cole procured a small bottle of booze from his inside flannel pocket. “I’m easy. Straight from the bottle for me.”
Aiden rolled his eyes. “That’s whiskey.”
“Well it rhymes with tea, don’t it? Right there at the end?”
“An artist and a poet?” Charley grinned, then held out her hand and gestured for the bottle. “We are definitely going to be friends, Cole Diamante.”
Chapter Three
Friends.
Charley let the word settle inside her, slowly warming her heart. For all the luxuries her lifestyle afforded, friends had never been one of them.
Until now.
It was yet another gift Dorian had brought into her life—one she wouldn’t squander.
“The grays were confined to the alley,” Aiden said, passing Charley a mug of English Breakfast