Dark Seduction (Vampire Royals of New York #2) - Sarah Piper Page 0,4
of nearly losing control tonight, and the swill he’d been drinking for the last hour. “I was just blowing off a little steam.”
“Right. And this little steam… She got a name?”
When Dorian didn’t answer, Cole said, “She’s the one you brought out here the other day, right?”
Heat rose in Dorian’s chest at the memory. Charlotte, twirling like a fallen leaf in the wind. Gasping at the beauty of the landscape. Peppering him with lightning-round questions on vampire origins. Laughing as she tested the limits of his Ferrari as well as his patience.
“I wasn’t aware you’d been watching us,” he said.
“Peepin’ Tom ain’t my style.” Cole laughed. “But the scent? No hiding that, my friend. Wolves have an even stronger sense of smell than bloodsuckers. I’m surprised you two didn’t bang right there on my rocks.”
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
“Just a thought, huh?”
Dorian shook his head, intending to steer Cole onto some other topic—any other topic. But when Cole rolled a fresh joint and offered Dorian the first hit, something inside him broke loose. This time, he took Cole up on the offer, sucking in a deep drag, letting the pungent smoke work its way into his system.
And then, the dam burst.
Before Dorian could shut himself up, the whole story spilled out. How he and Charlotte had met, the instant chemistry between them, the intrigue, the way her devious smile had shone a light on the darkest places inside him.
And the shameful admission that he still bloody yearned for her, even now.
“A beautiful human plotting against a ruthless, bloodthirsty vampire king?” Cole said when Dorian had finally reached the end of the story. “Sounds like the start to a bad soap opera.”
Dorian rolled his eyes. “Yes, my reputation precedes me.”
“And she’s still alive because…?”
He tightened his grip on the drink and met Cole’s gaze through the smoke, attempting to channel some of that inner ruthlessness. “Because I’ve yet to decide the precise manner in which I’ll stamp the light from her eyes.”
Cole scratched his beard, trying not quite hard enough to hide a smirk. “I see.”
“You see nothing,” Dorian snapped.
“If you say so, Red.”
“Charlotte D’Amico is a liar and a thief, and that’s putting it kindly.” Dorian lifted a hand, counting down on his fingers. “She’s been playing me from the start. She’s got connections to at least one powerful demon crime syndicate—which, by the way, she refuses to discuss. She’s oddly fixated on two pieces of art from my collection—which, by the way, she also refuses to discuss. She’s manipulative, selfish, infuriating, and… and bloody hell, Cole. I wish I’d never met her.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“Sarcasm? Really? I bear my soul, and that’s the sage advice you have to offer?”
“Sage advice?” Cole shook his head, still smirking. “Okay, here’s the thing. Wolves? We mate for life. Takes a long time to find the one, but when we do, we fucking know it. And there’s nothing we won’t do for our mate, no matter how badly she fucks up. I mean nothing, brother.”
“I’m not a wolf.”
“And I’m still single, but that’s not the point.”
“Have you not heard a word I’ve said? She’s after my art, Cole. Left to her own devices, the woman would probably steal the very silverware from the dinner table. In fact, I should check my collection. For all I know, she pocketed her fork after brunch the other day.”
Cole laughed, his eyes like half-moons in the smoky haze. “If you think this is about your art—or your damn silverware, for that matter—you’re even blinder than you are stoned.”
“She’s connected to Alexei Rogozin, for fuck’s sake!”
“Connected how, exactly?”
Dorian didn’t have an answer for that—not for lack of trying. Charlotte had completely shut down at the mention of the demon’s name. Before they could revisit the conversation, Duchanes attacked, and they’d nearly died.
Dorian, because of Duchanes and the demon.
Charlotte, because of Dorian.
A surge of guilt rose inside him, but he chased it away with another swig of moonshine.
“I know you nightwalkers don’t like to be tied down,” Cole continued. “I get it. Keep your options open for the long, immortal slog. But I’ll tell you what, Red. That look in your eyes?” He tilted his glass in Dorian’s direction. “That’s not the look of a man just out for a fuck. That’s the look of a man who—”
“Whatever you’re about to presume about my present state of affairs, about what I feel, about whom and how frequently I choose to fuck, allow me to disabuse you of—”