Dark Obsession (Vampire Royals of New York #3) - Sarah Piper Page 0,88
his humanity long ago.
Dorian let out a deep breath, and with it, the last of his love for his brother.
With one more glance for Charlotte, one more smile, Dorian blurred into them, the bone handle gripped tightly in his fist as the Blade of Azerius sank into his brother’s chest.
Malcolm’s eyes went wide, and in that moment, all the haze, all the insanity cleared.
“Forgive me, brother,” he choked out. “The only… way to… All the… And summon the…” His eyes flickered as Rudy’s had, and then he released her, collapsing to the ground.
Charlotte fell forward into Dorian’s arms, sucking in a strangled breath, the wounds in her back already knitting closed.
Dorian held her upright, damn near choking on his relief. He’d only just looked into her eyes again when he caught the movement behind her.
A white raven perched on an upended cocktail table.
And there at the base, his brother rose from the ground, the blade still protruding from his chest, his eyes the color of midnight oil.
“Who has summoned me, and for what purpose?” the creature formerly known as Malcolm demanded.
Charlotte gasped. “Rogozin… He said something about Azerius… Something about how he kills his brothers like Cain, and that’s when he comes. I knew it had something to do with the blade, but I didn’t… Dorian, you’ve…”
Dorian blinked rapidly, still not believing his own eyes.
It wasn’t Malcolm.
It was him.
Azerius.
The demon who’d claimed Charlotte.
Though his eyes were entirely black, Dorian sensed the shift of his gaze to Charlotte.
Dorian released his woman.
Without another thought, he grabbed the demon and blurred him up to the roof, far away from the people he loved.
Far away from Charlotte.
In the pale, pre-dawn light, Dorian and the demon Azerius circled each other upon the gravely rooftop, sizing each other up. Dorian tried to think, recalling everything they’d learned about demon vessels, about Azerius, about the blade.
The blade would not have killed Malcolm—only a wooden stake would’ve done that. But it likely expelled his soul and turned him into a host, which Azerius was now occupying. The creature still had Malcolm’s movements and gestures, which likely meant he possessed vampire power, but not demonic.
No hellfire, or Dorian would likely already be dead.
But it also meant he’d be a much stronger version of Malcolm, which put Dorian at a disadvantage.
“I am Azerius,” the demon finally said, “King of Blood and Ravens, He Who Slaughters the Blood of his Blood, He Who Drinks the Blood of the Fallen, He Whom Before All Mortals Weep, He Whom Bringeth the—”
“Yes, and I’m Dorian Redthorne, vampire king of New York, brother to the royal princes, and blah, blah, blah with the pageantry. Frankly, I don’t give a fuck about your titles. You’re in my city now, demon. Hitching a ride in my brother’s body, looking at the woman I love. We need to have a talk about your choices, demon.”
“A talk? How about a deal instead?”
“What are you offering?”
“I will remove the demons from your city—all of the demons, from all of your cities.”
“And in return?” Dorian asked, already knowing the answer. Already knowing he’d say no.
“Hand over the woman,” Azerius said.
“That’s all you’d ask of me?” Dorian laughed. They were still circling each other like wild dogs about to pounce. “One human woman—a woman you’ve allegedly already claimed?”
“I cannot collect on that claim for another fortnight.”
Dorian swallowed down his shock. His fear. “A fortnight is hardly a long wait.”
“A fortnight on earth is several thousand years in hell. And what can I say? I find her… intriguing.”
Dorian pretended to consider his offer, then shook his head. “A compelling offer, to be sure. But I’ve got a counter.”
The demon king raised an eyebrow.
“The woman claims herself,” Dorian said. “And you can take your contract, your titles, and all the demons in all the cities in the world, and shove them up straight up your arrogant ass.”
The demon let out a deep, dark laugh that damn near reverberated across the city. “A fight it is, vampire king.”
He blurred at Dorian, taking him down with a force like a mack truck. They rolled hard, and when they finally reached the edge of the rooftop, Dorian was pinned beneath his impossibly strong form.
Azerius wrapped a hand around Dorian’s throat, but before he could get a good grip, Dorian shoved a knee into his groin, sending him reeling.
Dorian blurred to the other side of the roof for a momentary reprieve, but again the demon was on him, blurring in and out of his space, slamming him with