Dark Seduction (Vampire Royals of New York #2) - Sarah Piper Page 0,91
saw the delivery doorway, dim and abandoned. Just outside the door, someone had knocked over a big plastic trashcan, its contents spilling all over the pavement.
Fighting to keep her voice steady, she called out for her sister. “Sasha? You out here? Sash?”
Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea…
A skittering noise behind the trashcan made her jump, but in the dim light of the alley she saw only shadows.
Probably just a rat.
Charley thumbed back to her sister’s text, wondering if she’d missed something.
Emergency. In trouble. Meet @ Perk ASAP. Back entrance. Come alone no matter what, Charlotte!
Charley had sent a dozen urgent texts in response, but Sasha never replied.
But wait…
Holy. Shit.
Charley’s heart nearly stopped. Only now did she see what she’d missed before.
Come alone no matter what, Charlotte!
Sasha never called Charley by her full name. Which meant someone else had sent the text.
Charley’s body went rigid, her muscles tensing as she slowly turned around, scanning her surroundings.
Something crunched in the darkness, like wheels rolling over crushed glass.
Charley crouched down low.
Too late, she noticed the limo, black and sleek, no headlights.
Too late, she felt the hand clamp roughly over her mouth.
Too late, she felt the impossibly strong arms hauling her up and sweeping her feet out from under her.
Too late, her phone clattered to the ground.
Too late, she remembered Dorian’s Midnight Marauder lessons—a direct hit to the knee, a stomp to the foot, take the most effective shot.
She was paralyzed with fear, unable to hit any of those targets as the man dragged her toward the limo and tossed her into the backseat. He climbed in behind her and slammed the door shut, trapping her on the bench seat between his own bulky form and that of another man, faceless in the dark shadows.
Oh, hell no.
Survival instinct took over, and she thrashed and kicked for all she was worth. The shadowed man put his hands up to protect his face. Instead of gouging out an eye, she snagged his watch, popping the clasp. It fell from his wrist just as the other man yanked her backward by the hair.
The shadowed man leaned in close, his features coming into sharp relief. “Good evening, Charlotte. Feeling feisty tonight, I see.”
“Uncle… Rudy?” Charley gasped. It was Rudy… but it wasn’t. Same hair, same suit, same threatening grin. But his eyes, cold and calculating on the best of days, were nothing more than black pits in a twisted face.
Charley’s throat closed up, her legs thrashing again as she tried to get away from him.
But the other man tightened his grip on her hair, making her eyes water. “Stop fighting, bitch.”
Rudy bent down to retrieve his watch. The moment he fastened it back in place, his eyes returned to normal.
“Holy shit,” Charley breathed. She had no idea what that watch magic was all about, but one thing had just become painfully clear.
Her uncle wasn’t just working for the demons. He was a fucking demon.
“Language, Charlotte. Honestly.” Rudy rolled his now-human eyes. Then, nodding at the other man, “Do it.”
Before Charley had time to wonder what “it” meant, the dude released her hair and gripped her shoulders.
“You didn’t see anything strange,” he said smoothly, staring deep into her eyes. “Just your uncle Rudy and his associate, here for a little chat.”
An uncomfortable pressure built up inside her head, as if some invisible force was trying to push its way in.
Vampire, her intuition whispered. He’s trying to compel you, girl.
“Everything is fine,” the man said. “You’re going to calm down, and you’re going to answer our questions.”
Charley forced herself to relax beneath his touch. She knew, thanks to Dorian, she couldn’t be compelled. He’d said it was one of her many mysteries.
Right now, trapped in a limo with her demonic uncle and his crazy vampire sidekick, it was also her only advantage.
“I saw my uncle Rudy,” she said, keeping her voice calm and steady. She looked at him with wide, dreamy eyes, willing her heart rate to slow down.
Answers, she told herself. They only want answers.
“Who is Dorian Redthorne?” the man asked her.
“He’s our mark,” she said evenly. “The CEO of FierceConnect. Owner of Ravenswood in Annandale-on-Hudson.”
“Is Dorian aware of your uncle’s plans?”
“No. He thinks I’m in love with him. He’s taking me to Hawaii. The heist can proceed as planned.”
“Ask her about the sculpture,” Rudy said, seemingly satisfied with her bullshit answers. “Ask her why it wasn’t on the list.”
Charley’s chest tightened. A sculpture not on the list?