Dark Obsession (Vampire Royals of New York #3) - Sarah Piper Page 0,55

I’m sure they’re all looking for a way to profit.”

“And we’ve already determined Estas isn’t loyal to Rogozin,” Aiden said. “For all we know, he’s working with Chernikov now.”

“I knew that bloody demon was full of shit,” Dorian ground out. “Chernikov tried to convince me Rogozin was playing the same game.”

Isabelle shook her head. “I don’t believe Rogozin’s involved in this particular plot. It sounds like House Duchanes was courting Rogozin demons only as a way to spy for Chernikov. Renault Duchanes’ relationship with Chernikov goes back many decades, according to my witch friend.”

Dorian sighed, his mind churning with the new revelations. He wished he could say he was surprised, but he’d seen the writing on that particular wall as soon as Chernikov had started feeding him the so-called intel against Rogozin. “All of this aligns with what Gabriel and I learned from the Rogozin demons we… conversed with… the other day. Chernikov is building his armies.”

“He doesn’t need armies,” Isabelle said. “Just the illusion of them.”

“That’s why he wants Armitage Holdings?” Charlotte gasped. “To create that illusion?”

“His witches are attempting to fuse demon magic with Armitage illusion tech,” Isabelle said. “They’re not quite there yet, but they’re getting close. Using our technology and their magic, along with a distribution system built over the existing transit infrastructure, they’re planning to create a virtual reality overlay. From there, using the transit maps, the security cameras, and rider data from the transit authority, Chernikov can pinpoint the flow of people around Manhattan and the boroughs at any time, day or night. With that information, he can determine the most effective target zones and times.”

“Most effective for what?” Aiden asked, his face pale.

“Using the virtual overlay,” she said, “Chernikov can cast all manner of illusions—explosions, sidewalk executions, car wrecks, terrorist attacks, murderous rampages by family members as well as the monsters of their nightmares—anything you can imagine. It won’t even matter that they aren’t real—the illusion tech is so advanced, and the demon magic so invasive and manipulative, no human exposed to the combination will ever be convinced it wasn’t real. They’ll feel pain from illusory wounds, suffer post-traumatic stress, even die from injuries that never actually happened.”

“And for those who survive,” Dorian said, following the grim trail to its logical conclusion, “we’re left with a weakened, terrified population that’s easy to control and further manipulate. Especially if a charismatic psychopath steps in to lead them.”

Horror descended on the room like a pall, and for several long moments, no one spoke, each of them sinking into their own gruesome visions of Chernikov’s new reality.

Dorian’s mind flashed back to the people he’d seen in the camera views. Tourists, bagel vendors, carriage drivers, immigrants from every country in the world, museum-goers, celebrities, drunken revelers, students, billionaires, musicians, hopeless wanderers.

Vampires, shifters, witches.

Children. Grandparents.

All of them doomed.

Dorian rose from his chair and fixed another round of drinks.

“Chernikov isn’t ready to give up on bringing in new demons, either,” Isabelle said when he passed her a fresh gin and tonic. “Apparently he’s been ranting about some sort of ultimate weapon that can create vessels out of humans without contracts. My friend didn’t know specifics—just that he believes he’ll have access to it soon. Which only makes the rest of his plans that much more terrifying.”

Dorian exchanged a glance with Aiden, and from the look in his friend’s eyes, he knew they both shared the same thought.

The Blade of Azerius.

Terrifying didn’t even begin to cover it.

“What of the other supernaturals?” Charlotte asked. “Won’t you guys be immune? Isn’t there anything you can do?”

“Some of us might be able to resist the demon magic,” Dorian said, “but at that scale, and paired with the technology, it’s hard to say. We’ve never been exposed to anything like it. Demonic energy has always been kept in balance by the dark witches.”

“So they’ve all gone rogue?” Charlotte asked.

“Not all,” Isabelle said. “There are plenty of dark witches who know how to toe the line—witches who appreciate the balance of light and dark, and can delve into either without losing themselves.”

There was a hint of pride in her tone that spoke to Dorian of a much deeper knowledge—and a much greater power—than he’d suspected, despite her earlier expressions of interest in the darker arts.

Dorian caught her gaze, and a new understanding passed between them.

A new trust.

Isabelle Armitage was a formidable witch. One he was grateful to have on their side.

“Chernikov has been involved with the Redthorne line for centuries,” he told her now, deciding