Dark Seduction (Vampire Royals of New York #2) - Sarah Piper Page 0,44

but even if the other Houses turn their backs on them, they’ve still got the numbers, the demons, and—lest we forget—a powerful witch who devised a poison strong enough to wholly incapacitate you.”

“Don’t forget the bloody grays,” Gabriel added. “I’d bet my own cock Duchanes is responsible.”

“The odds are certainly stacked against us.” Malcolm rose from the fireplace and dusted off his hands, making a show of furrowing his brow and tapping his lips as if he were channeling some utter brilliance from the great beyond.

To Dorian, it was all part of his endless scheming.

“For fuck’s sake,” Dorian said. “If I wanted to see a one-act play, I would’ve bought a ticket and put on a better suit. Out with it, brother.”

Malcolm met his gaze, his eyes sparking with a determination Dorian was already preparing to veto. “Reunite the Council.”

“The Council?” Dorian scoffed, waving away the ridiculous suggestion at once. The Council was nothing more than a glorified vampire circle-jerk—a group of high-ranking, mostly ancient vampires who used to gather under the pretense of discussing the mind-numbingly endless politics of the various greater houses, when in fact they just needed an excuse to drink wine and congratulate themselves on their many uninspiring achievements.

They were so utterly useless that Dorian’s father had disbanded the group decades ago, and the supernatural races had survived in their absence in relative, self-regulating peace.

Until now.

“I’ve no interest in resurrecting those dusty relics from the grave,” Dorian said.

Malcolm folded his arms across his chest. “Must I remind you we’re four vampires standing against—”

“Five,” Dorian said firmly, glancing again at Aiden. “And we’ve got Cole and the wolves on our side as well, not to mention Lucien and Isabelle Armitage, whom I’m confident will align with us once the dust settles from Duchanes’ latest follies.”

Malcolm shook his head, his face reddening with barely contained anger. “Even if that deal comes to fruition, that still leaves us gravely outnumbered. We need to take charge, Dorian. We—”

“You mean you need to take charge. That’s what this is about, is it not? Your endless politicking, your scheming, your tiresome manipulations?”

“Who needs another drink?” Aiden asked, heading for the bar with a roll of his eyes. “Speaking of one-act plays.”

“If I’m taking charge,” Malcolm said, “it’s because you refuse to. Dorian Redthorne, vampire king? Please. You wear the title as if it’s nothing more than one of your bespoke suits—something to try on and cast aside as you see fit.”

“I didn’t ask for the crown,” Dorian said. “I wear the title because it’s my duty.”

“A duty you shirk at every turn.”

“And you would do better? All this maneuvering, all these games, and you truly believe our situation wouldn’t be just as dire—if not more so—with you at the helm?”

“I would at least try, which is more than I can say for a man who’d rather spend his days playing with his cock and kneeling at the altar of yet another beautiful piece of—”

Dorian had him on the floor in a heartbeat, his knee against Malcolm’s chest, forearm pressed to his throat.

Malcolm’s eyes ignited with rage, but he only laughed. “You’re pathetic, highness. And when House Redthorne finally falls, I want all of us to remember this moment, and know we’ve only ourselves to blame.”

“Why?” Dorian bellowed. “Why are you so insistent on undermining me and running our house? Our family? What do you want from me?”

“Do you remember when we were turned?” Malcolm asked, fury trembling through his muscles. “When our family was decimated?”

The images, never far from Dorian’s thoughts, rushed to the surface in stunning, brilliant detail.

The piercing screams of his mother and sister.

The scent of blood, mixing with the scent of spilled brandy.

The twins, clinging to each other in fear.

Evie, her eyes wide and hopeless as her own brother swung the blade that ended her life.

Augustus, watching with no more than a sad acceptance as his newfound partners turned his sons into monsters, butchering his wife and youngest children in the process.

And then, when it came time for Augustus himself to submit to the bite, he did so with pride, truly believing he’d just saved his family from eternal heartbreak.

In his mind, the losses were all part of the momentary risk—a fair price for the eternal reward.

“Don’t,” Dorian whispered now, his heart banging in his chest as he tried in vain to beat back those awful memories. “Please.”

He rose from the floor and backed away, finally allowing his brother to get to his feet, but Malcolm wouldn’t relent. He’d

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