Dark Obsession (Vampire Royals of New York #3) - Sarah Piper Page 0,57
father’s bloodline, but his father didn’t notice. So Azerius called upon the old gods of his father’s time, and made some sort of dark bargain—he sacrificed himself, only to rise to power in death with a bloodlust that rivaled his father’s. He then declared war on all warriors, making it his life’s mission to sow chaos on human battlefields and imbue soldiers with a limitless potential for brutality. In some cultures today, it’s still believed that if a white raven appears in the encampment on the eve of battle, Azerius is present, and a prolonged, bloody battle will follow, with mass casualties.”
“That is an understatement.” Isabelle closed the book, gently placing her hand on the cover. “People still call upon him for deals—deals so dark not even regular demons will touch them.”
“Like Father,” Colin said, “slaughtering the vampire royals in England.”
“I still can’t believe this is real.” Charlotte reached for the blade. “This thing was literally forged in hell. It’s—” The moment her fingers touched the bone handle, she swayed.
Dorian blurred behind her, catching her just before she collapsed.
“Damn it,” she whispered, closing her eyes as he steadied her.
“Vertigo again?” he asked, and she nodded. “Colin, are you certain she hasn’t suffered more serious injuries?”
“I haven’t ruled it out.” Colin came to stand beside them, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. “Have you eaten enough today?”
“Yes.” Charlotte opened her eyes. “Everything else feels totally fine. But it’s exactly like before—the déjà vu too. I swear that blade has it out for me.”
“What do you mean?” Isabelle asked, concern tightening her brow. “This happened before?”
“When we first discovered it,” Charlotte said, “I got the same feeling as soon as I touched it, only it wasn’t as bad. This time felt much more intense.”
Isabelle exchanged a worried glance with Dorian, then asked Charlotte to join her at the table.
Dorian stayed by her side, afraid she’d faint again.
“Did you touch the book before?” Isabelle asked.
“No, just the blade.”
“Place your hand on the book for me.”
Charlotte did as she asked, but drew back at once, stumbling backward into Dorian’s arms.
“Worse,” she said. “Way worse.”
Isabelle held her hand over Charlotte’s heart. “May I?”
She nodded, and Isabelle pressed her hand to Charlotte’s chest and closed her eyes.
After an agonizing moment, she lowered her hand and shook her head, whispering a single word that kicked Dorian’s worry into overdrive:
“Fuck.”
“Isabelle?” he pressed, but she held her tongue. Dorian glared at her. “No shit-covered cupcakes, remember? Speak your mind.”
She let out a deep sigh, then reached for Charlotte’s hands, squeezing tight. “Charlotte, your demon mark… It’s the mark of Azerius. I’m certain of it now—the energy signatures are the same. You’re feeling the reaction of his mark—his power calls to it through the book and the blade. Your soul recognizes him as its master.”
Dorian’s entire body trembled as he fought to hold back his rage. He swiped the Book of Lost Souls from the table, his fingers turning white as he crushed it in his grip. “You’re telling me the demon known as the King of Blood and Ravens, He Who Slaughters the Blood of his Blood, He Who Drinks the Blood of the Fallen, He Whom Before All Mortals Weep, He Whom Can Choke On My Bloody Fist… The demon who murdered his own kin… The demon who killed himself just so he could spend eternity tormenting human soldiers… This is the demon who’s claimed the woman I love?”
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of more bad news,” Isabelle said evenly, “but yes.”
“If Azerius is the one who marked Charlotte, there’s only one thing I need to know from this book.” Dorian slammed it back onto the table, rattling Colin’s test tubes. “How the fuck do I kill him?”
“I don’t know, Dorian,” she said. “He’s a lord of hell, and that’s his domain. He doesn’t exist on the earthy plane.”
“Then how do we make him exist here?”
“I suppose he’d have to be summoned, but I have no idea how to even attempt—”
“Read the bloody book!” he roared, but his anger wasn’t for Isabelle.
He muttered an apology and turned away, shame heating his face, rage still swirling inside him like a tempest.
A soft touch graced his shoulder, and Dorian turned to find Charlotte smiling at him, her copper eyes full of love and kindness.
It disarmed him immediately.
He slid his fingers into her hair and brushed a kiss to her forehead, calming himself by the feel of