Dark Seduction (Vampire Royals of New York #2) - Sarah Piper Page 0,19

other, finally revealing the contents.

“Those ain’t bodies,” Cole said.

“Those,” Dorian said, crouching down to retrieve the bound, child-sized bundles nestled inside the otherwise empty coffins, “are insurance policies.”

The crypts beneath the manor were dank and dark, the stone sweating with condensation. Come winter, the passageways would be slick with ice, many of them inaccessible. But for now, Dorian paced the narrowest of them, giving Cole and Aiden a few moments to catch up.

After years of seclusion, the wolf’s re-emergence in their lives was a blessing in a season that had seen far too few, and watching the old friends embrace loosened the knot in Dorian’s chest. Even Colin, normally reserved in his affections and expressions, couldn’t help but smile when Cole reached out to shake his hand.

Considering last night’s attack in Tribeca and the grays roaming the woods, all of them were glad to count the wolves among their allies. But for Dorian, it went even deeper; aside from Aiden, Cole was the last true friend he had.

Together, the four men headed into the tomb Augustus had used as his laboratory. Dorian set the bundles on the stone slab in the center, carefully removing their musty cloth wrappings to reveal the mysterious objects within.

One was confirmation. The other, yet another mystery.

“So this is what’s got Chernikov’s knickers in a twist?” Aiden picked up the Mother of Lost Souls sculpture for closer examination, carefully turning it in his hands. It was about eighteen inches tall, made of painted clay and polished stones. “I’m no art critic, but I find her a bit homely. She doesn’t even have nipples.”

“Yes, Aiden, I’m sure the nipples would’ve made a world of difference.” Dorian scowled and relieved him of the statue, but he didn’t disagree with the overall critique. Missing nipples aside, the body was similar to many fertility goddess pieces he’d encountered over the years, with exaggerated breasts and a belly swollen with child. The problem was her face. From the neck up, she looked more demon than human, with obsidian eyes, a forked tongue, and a nest of what Dorian suspected was actual human hair. Her teeth were jagged and yellowed, much too large for her mouth.

They reminded Dorian of the vampire fangs Cole had found in the woods.

“Why would Father go to all the trouble of burying this in a coffin?” Colin asked. “He didn’t destroy it, so clearly it serves a purpose. Yet he kept it hidden from us. Why?”

“He probably didn’t know he was going to die so quickly,” Aiden said. “Perhaps he would’ve said—”

“He didn’t trust us,” Colin said, meeting Dorian’s gaze. “He knew his days were numbered—that’s obvious from the journals. He was surprised he’d lasted as long as he had. This was simply one more secret he intended to carry with him to hell.”

“No, I don’t believe that was his intention at all.” Dorian set the statue on the table, gazing into her dark eyes. “Father didn’t need our help that night, digging the grave. He could’ve managed on his own, but he insisted we join him. He called it a gift befitting the lord of demons—the same phrase Chernikov used. It can’t be coincidence.”

“That doesn’t mean Father would’ve told us about it.”

“The Mother of Lost Souls was no secret,” Dorian said. As much as he wanted to agree with Colin—to add one more checkmark to the terrible father column—on this, he couldn’t. “We’ve all known about her from the moment Father stole her from House Kendrick. We knew he buried her at Ravenswood. Not in the crypts, as I’d always assumed, but still on our estate. He wanted us to find it, Colin. I’m certain.”

“For what purpose?” Colin asked.

“I don’t yet know.” Dorian sighed, his father’s long-ago words ghosting through his mind.

She is what makes us powerful. One day, you will see…

“Then she’s useless to us,” Colin said, “just like the man who buried her.”

Hurt flickered in his eyes, but then he looked away, turning his attention to the second object they’d unearthed—some sort of ancient book. It was cold to the touch, but despite its long years in the coffin, strong magic still hummed across the cover, preventing them from opening it as surely as it protected the pages from the elements.

“What do you make of it?” Dorian asked Colin.

“I’m not well-versed in demonic languages, but from the symbology on the cover, the closest translation I can come up with is the Book of Lost Souls.”

“Brilliant,” Aiden said. “A matched set. And Chernikov never mentioned