the loyalty.”
“You have already earned it.”
“Really? Even though I felled your King of Blood and Ravens?”
“Felled?” Rogozin chuckled. “You were worthy opponent, Dorian Redthorne. But Lord Azerius is like cockroach in nuclear attack. He can not be killed—not even by king of vampires.”
“Alexei, I trapped him in a vessel, turned him into a human, and tore the bloody heart from his chest. He’s quite dead, I assure you.”
“Not dead. Only banished for one thousand years.”
Alarm flooded Dorian’s chest. “But I thought… What of the demon mark? The witch said it’s no longer—”
“Relax, vampire king. Through your bravery, you have broken demon bind. Lord Azerius granted you reprieve and will not come after your Charlotte. D’Amico again. You, on the other hand? I can’t make promise.”
Dorian blew out a breath and shrugged. “A thousand years, though, right? Plenty of time to prepare for a rematch.”
Rogozin laughed, then lifted his glass. “So. Redthorne and Rogozin. Best friends forever?”
Dorian laughed. “Let’s start with mutually benefitting associates and see where it goes.”
“Fair enough, King Redthorne.”
They touched glasses and drank, Rogozin gulping down his entire glass in one long pull.
When he finished, he set his glass hard on the bar and said, “I will notify you when Chernikov deed is done. Later today, with any good luck.”
“Thank you. Oh, and Alexei?” Dorian held his gaze, a new understanding passing between them—the first, Dorian hoped, of many. “Dorian will do just fine.”
“So let’s recap.” Gabriel righted an overturned stool and took a seat beside Dorian. “The royal Redthornes are now aligned with Rogozin demons. House Duchanes has been decimated, but Renault himself is M.I.A. Cole is still getting reports of grays upstate. And we’ve got a dark witch’s curse to unravel, unless we all want to die a slow, terrible death.”
“Never a dull moment for House Redthorne,” Dorian said. “Not to worry, though. I think I’m finally ready to make some new hires. Security guards or… I don’t know. Minions. Don’t kings have minions?” He sipped his scotch and shook his head. “Bloody hell, this is a terrible idea. I really don’t like people.”
“Fairly certain the feeling is mutual, brother.”
“You know, Gabriel, you’re quite humorous when you’re not being an asshole.”
“If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that…”
“I can only imagine.” Dorian took another drink, then said, “So what’s next, little brother? Heading back to Sin City now that the worst is behind us here?”
“Right. About that…” Gabriel reached for a glass and poured himself some scotch, then topped off Dorian’s glass. “Bloodbath was a terrible name with a terrible clientele, but the place itself has potential. Good bones, as they say. Plus, you really can’t beat the location.”
“Bloodbath? This Bloodbath?”
“It’s ours now, brother. To the victor go the spoils, et cetera, et cetera.”
“You’re… staying?” Dorian could hardly speak through the sudden knot of emotion in his throat.
“Well, someone needs to keep an eye on you. Look what happened last time we left you alone for fifty years—you damn near destroyed the place. Besides, I think I already have my first employee. She looks good behind the bar, does she not?”
He grinned over at Jacinda, tied to a chair beside the other witches.
“Fuck you, bloodsucker,” she spat. “I will bleed you dry and grind your bones into dust.”
“See?” Gabriel said. “She’ll be winning customer service awards in no time.”
“If you say so.” Dorian could hardly reconcile the fiery, angry woman behind the bar with the memory of the sweet witch he’d first met at the fundraiser, wandering through his gardens in search of rare herbs.
Herbs she’d later used to poison him, but still.
After a long silence, Gabriel turned to Dorian and lifted his glass, his gaze heavy and serious, his mouth pulled into a deep frown.
In that moment, Dorian knew they were both thinking of Malcolm. Of all the things they’d said and hadn’t said, all the wrong turns, all the mistakes.
All the love.
There were no long speeches. No teary-eyed sharing of memories. But somehow, Gabriel managed to find the words that encapsulated it all.
“To brotherhood.”
Brotherhood.
For so long, it had gone hand-in-hand with betrayal and loss. With regret. With anger.
But now, it gave Dorian strength.
He raised his glass in return and smiled. “To brotherhood.”
“All set, love?” Dorian asked as Charlotte finally returned from escorting her sister outside with Aiden. Colin, Gabriel, Isabelle, Cole, and some of Rogozin’s demons were staying behind to finish cleaning up and interrogating the witches, but Dorian was more than ready to get the hell out of there.
He wanted