Dark Seduction (Vampire Royals of New York #2) - Sarah Piper Page 0,43
Colin can solve the puzzle from the source material, we’ll be one step ahead of our enemies.”
“How do you figure?” Gabriel asked.
“Like Augustus, Colin is a doctor. If he can decipher the cure for vampirism from your father’s research, perhaps he can decipher a cure for that cure. Perhaps there are even applications beyond weaponry—applications that can help rather than harm vampires, or humans, or shifters, or anyone else with whom we share this beautiful, terrible world.” He shook his head and let out a deep sigh. “Ignorance for the sake of keeping others in the dark is still ignorance. I understand the risks, Gabriel, but in this case, I prefer the light.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Colin said. “The material will be kept secured in the crypts. I shan’t remove it, even for a little bedtime reading. But it will be kept—not destroyed—for all the reasons Aiden articulated and more. Can we set aside our differences on that much, at least?”
All of them nodded in turn, even—however reluctantly—Gabriel.
But as much as Dorian agreed with Aiden and Colin, he couldn’t help the new worry gnawing through his chest.
“There’s… something else,” he finally said, knowing he couldn’t keep it from them for another moment. “In approximately three weeks, unless we can devise a way to stop it, a group of thieves will break into the manor and rob us bloody blind. I have reason to believe the ringleader is working for Rogozin, which means we have to assume the crypts are at risk as well.”
“Thieves?” Malcolm rose from his chair. “What are you talking about, Dorian? How do you know this? What ringleader?”
“A worthless cunt by the name of Rudolpho D’Amico.” Dorian scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Otherwise known as Charlotte’s Uncle Rudy.”
In the raucous volley of questions that followed, Dorian did his best to convey the severity of the situation without implicating Charlotte—a difficult task that left him even more wrung-out than his efforts to keep his hands and mouth from her luscious body.
Considering Dorian’s terrible history with women—and the consequences such history had brought upon his house—his brothers took the news in stride, even showing concern for Charlotte and Sasha. It was as if the women’s very presence in the manor today had loosened something inside all of them, shining a sliver of light into an otherwise dark, impenetrable knot of blame and regret.
Dorian only hoped that his willingness to help Charlotte wouldn’t one day become another of those disastrous regrets, adding yet another layer of darkness to the brotherhood whose return he was only, just now, beginning to welcome.
“So,” Malcolm said when Dorian finally finished, “we’ve got traitorous bloodsuckers siding with demons looking to make a major power play. We’ve got grays running unchecked in the woods—very likely released by those same traitors. We’ve got a tentative alliance with a demon kingpin who, by all rights, is still a mortal enemy. And we’ve got a band of bloody thieves who not only pose a danger to the innocent women upstairs, but are also backed by the very traitors who caused this mess.”
“That about sums it up,” Dorian said. Then, to Gabriel, “I’d like for you to look into this man. This… Rudy.”
The name still left a bitter taste on his lips, no matter how many times he’d said it today.
Gabriel glanced up at him, and Dorian braced himself for an argument. But then his youngest brother nodded and said, “Anything in particular I should be looking for?”
“Firstly, we need to confirm the demon association. If they’re still involved, someone will know about it.”
“Did you check with Chernikov?”
Dorian shook his head. “Just because we have an agreement doesn’t mean I trust the sodding fool. As far as I’m concerned, the fewer people who know about the planned heist the better. I don’t want House Redthorne cast in an even weaker light than we already are.”
“I’ll see what I can dig up,” Gabriel said. “Piece of shit like that is bound to leave a trail.”
“Yes, and the sooner we can find it, the sooner we can follow it, the sooner we can bring him down.”
“Beyond the human stain,” Malcolm said, “I think we need to face the bigger facts here, brother.”
Dorian bristled at the self-important tone—one that had become all-too-familiar in the manor since Malcolm’s return. “To which bigger facts are you referring?”
“We’re outgunned in this fight,” he said, crouching down to place another log on the fire. “House Duchanes may be the black sheep at the moment,