Dark Seduction (Vampire Royals of New York #2) - Sarah Piper Page 0,88
but Charley no longer cared.
“We arranged the meeting days ago,” Dorian said. “I thought if we could get a foot in the door with Estas, we might be able to track down some relevant intel about your uncle’s involvement with Rogozin. We’re running out of time, love. I’m not sure what else to do.”
He was right. They were running out of time. And his instincts to go through Estas were good; Charley just wasn’t sure making art deals was the right approach.
She took a deep breath, steadying her frayed nerves.
Her feelings about Dorian, the complications, the what-ifs… All of that had to take a backseat to the urgent reality confronting her.
For whatever reason, fate had seen fit to bring her and Dorian together. And now, it seemed their dark paths were converging as well—Rudy, the planned heist, the demon connection, Duchanes, all of it.
She and Dorian were in this together—along with Aiden, Cole, and Dorian’s brothers—and they needed a solid plan.
“You can buy up all the art you want,” Charley said. “The whole seventy million dollar cache—or what’s left of it. But that’s not going to help us, Dorian. It’s only going to make you go broke, and—”
“Seventy million? Not likely.”
“And,” she said, “you’re putting your life at risk. All of you. I can’t let you do that. Not for me.”
“We’ve made our choices,” Dorian said, and Cole and Aiden nodded.
“Dorian.” Charley shook her head, grateful for the anger rising up again. She needed it to fuel her, to make her strong in the presence of the man whose touch had the power to melt her every defense. “This is ridiculous. You guys are sneaking out in the middle of the night with a suitcase full of money like it’s all some epic caper you can laugh about over drinks later. If your theories about my uncle are on point, then these are demons we’re talking about. Demons who can very easily kill you.”
“You should’ve considered that before you asked for my help,” Dorian said.
“I never meant for you to go behind my back and make contact. We’re supposed to be in this together. And now you’re—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Aiden’s voice shattered the calm night. “You are in this together. He’s bloody well in love with you. And you obviously think he’s the dog’s bollocks, so let’s say we cut short this little quarrel, I’ll take Cole home, you two can run along upstairs and have a good shag, and we’ll all meet up for brunch tomorrow in the kitchen.”
Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing into his hand. “Thank you, Aiden. You’ve got us all sorted now.”
Heat rushed to Charley’s face in the wake of Aiden’s blunt assessment and Cole’s quiet snicker, but she pressed on.
“Estas is the right call,” she said. “But if we want a real shot at finding dirt on Rudy, we need to know where Estas lives. There might be something there—pictures, account numbers, computer files, some kind of paper trail.” Charley thumbed toward Cole, who was still cradling the $500,000 mistake. “Sekhmet here will make a fine addition to your collection, but I’m afraid she can’t help us. We need an address.”
“Smashing,” Aiden said, beaming at them. “I’ve got the address. Shall we go, then?”
Charley and Dorian both gaped at him.
Aiden laughed. “Do you honestly think I’d agree to this—what did you call it? Epic caper?—without running a thorough background check on the man? Demon or not, he’s got human records. Let’s see… Primary residence just across the river. Owns a commercial space on Fifth Avenue that’s currently being renovated. Where do we start?”
“Aiden, you’re a genius,” Dorian said.
“Yes. I am. And remember, nothing says ‘thank you’ like a raise.”
“Take the lioness,” Dorian said. Then, to Charley, “Okay, we’ve got the address. So how do we get the evidence?”
“That’s the easy part.” Charley arched a brow, her smile turning mischievous. “We break in, and we steal it.”
But Dorian didn’t share her sudden enthusiasm. His jaw clenched, his eyes turning cold and resolute. “You’re talking about breaking and entering into the home of a demon. Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” she asked. “Does he live in hell?”
“Woodstock, actually,” Aiden said.
“Is his house some kind of crazy supernatural lair that turns mere humans into dust?”
“Charlotte,” Dorian warned. “You—”
“Don’t you Charlotte me, Dorian Redthorne.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “You may know your way around the supernatural realm, but when it comes to a good ol’ fashioned smash-and-grab? That’s my area of expertise.”