Dark Obsession (Vampire Royals of New York #3) - Sarah Piper Page 0,14

Father’s re-creation. He used them for his own special projects—his medical research, mostly. Ironically, Augustus Redthorne is down there—what’s left of him, anyway. Probably the only vampire in history to be interred in an actual tomb.”

“Really?”

“He died there, Charlotte. We simply allowed him to remain.”

“But… How did he die? I mean…” Charley sighed. They’d never really talked about his father’s death, and she wasn’t sure if that fell into the realm of dark things he didn’t want to discuss tonight.

But before she could change the subject, he said, “My father thought he’d found a way to reclaim his humanity. A cure for vampirism.”

Charley gasped. “There’s a cure?”

“So long as you’re okay with the side effects. Namely, death within a matter of months.”

“Holy shit,” she breathed. “And your father… he discovered this cure?”

“He did.”

“But… but what if someone found out? Couldn’t your enemies use it against you? I mean, they could totally wipe out the vampire race!”

He held her gaze, his own stern and severe, his silence once again speaking volumes.

Demons, rival vampires, human hunters… Any number of enemies would probably kill to get their hands on that cure.

The realization blasted her in the face.

That’s why he hadn’t mentioned his father’s lab before.

He hadn’t trusted her.

But now…

She glanced up into his eyes again, and he nodded once, almost imperceptibly, as if he could read her thoughts.

He trusted her—with his life.

Just as she’d trusted him with hers.

Tears blurred her vision, but she quickly blinked them away. “How did the cure kill him?”

“It worked—well, technically speaking. It did cure him. But absent the magic and power of vampirism, he went through a rapid aging process. It was as if his body was trying to catch up with its sudden human reality. He was in his sixties when he turned. By the time he took the cure, he was nearly three hundred years old.”

“Three hundred,” she whispered. “That’s… wow.”

“It’s a lot to wrap your head around. Some days, I barely manage it myself.”

Charley touched Dorian’s face, marveling once again at his existence. He would always look exactly the same. Ten years, fifty, a hundred—he wouldn’t age a day.

How was it even possible? Even now, after everything she’d seen and experienced, she still couldn’t believe it.

“So there’s truly no going back?” she asked.

“Becoming a vampire isn’t a costume, Charlotte.” Dorian closed his eyes, his voice dropping to a dark whisper. “It’s a life sentence. An immortal life sentence.”

“Do you ever wish… I mean, if you could go back. Be human again—no side effects. Would you?”

“There was a time… I thought…” Dorian shook his head. “I’ve been a vampire for well over two hundred years—almost the entirety of my life. The truth is, Charlotte…” He opened his eyes again, their honey-brown depths threatening to swallow her whole. “I don’t know how to be anything else.”

“Neither do I.”

Pain flickered through his gaze, but he quickly shut it down, forcing a smile. “Of course not. You’ve only ever been human.”

She’d been referring to her life as a thief, not her life as a human, but Dorian must’ve thought she was talking about becoming a vampire—rather, about not becoming a vampire.

They’d never really talked about it. About what came next. Everything had happened so quickly between them—from lust to love in a blink. Deep love. Real love. The kind Charley used to think was a fairy tale.

And now…

God. Why did everything have to be so complicated? She was in love with a vampire. A fucking vampire! And Dorian was right—she’d only ever been human. Even if she survived her uncle, even if nothing bad ever touched her again, Charley would eventually die.

But Dorian wouldn’t.

Charley’s head spun. She wasn’t ready for this conversation. Wasn’t ready to think through the implications. She wanted to explain herself anyway, if only to take back the pain she’d inadvertently caused him, but before she could find the words, Dorian was moving on.

“Aiden tells me you’ve got a plan for our friend Vincent Estas,” he said.

“He told you that, huh?”

“Among other things.”

Charley tensed for the fight. “If this is the part where you try to talk me out of it, forget it. Not happening.”

“I suspected as much,” he grumbled. “And if I had any doubts, Aiden drove the point home with a quote. Let’s see if I’ve got it right… ‘Charlotte isn’t the sit-home-with-her-thumb-up-her-ass type, you git.’”

“He’s right, Dorian. You need me on this, and—”

“And I’ve already put Aiden back in touch with Estas to set up Cole’s next art buy, so no need to

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