Dark Seduction (Vampire Royals of New York #2) - Sarah Piper Page 0,20

it?”

Dorian shook his head. “As far as I know, he’s only after the statue.”

“Maybe it’s an instruction manual.” Cole ran his fingers along the spine, tiny silver sparks following in his path. “Some assembly required.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Dorian said, his confusion and frustration mounting. “This isn’t a piece of furniture from Ikea. It’s an ancient sculpture Chernikov believes belongs to his family—a piece he’s allegedly been seeking for centuries. One Father obviously hid from him, despite his promises to the contrary.”

“Cole might be right though,” Colin said, his face suddenly brightening at the challenge of yet another mystery. He was so much like their father in that way—a fact that intrigued and frightened Dorian in equal measure. “If we just look at this objectively, setting aside our feelings about Father… All indications are that the book and sculpture are connected. Perhaps it’s a grimoire, and it activates something within the sculpture itself.”

“Wonderful,” Dorian grumbled. “For all we know, it’s a demonic beacon and it opens a portal to hell.”

“Also a distinct possibility,” Colin said.

Aiden took a step back from the table. “Perhaps we should put it back in the ground—forget we ever found it.”

But Colin’s eyes were already alight with possibilities. Dorian suspected he’d be spending all his time down here now, poring over their father’s journals for clues about this new puzzle, along with clues about the old ones.

Dorian scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. They hadn’t even told the others about their father’s alleged discovery of a cure for vampirism. So much had happened since Colin first shared the news with Dorian last night—the attack, dealing with Charlotte’s injuries, the revelation of her treachery. There hadn’t been time for a family meeting.

And now?

Bloody hell, Dorian hardly knew where to begin.

He was certain about one thing, though.

Now more than ever, the crypts and their many secrets—including the two they’d just relocated here—had to be protected at all costs.

Not just from Chernikov, who desperately sought the sculpture and likely didn’t believe Dorian’s feigned ignorance on the matter.

Not just from Duchanes, who was almost certainly plotting to claim the entire estate after murdering its present occupants.

Not just from Rogozin and the other demons pulling the strings, masterminding their own gruesome takeovers.

But from the woman—the human woman with whom Dorian had made the regrettable mistake of falling in love, whose loyalties remained a mystery, her motives as deep and muddy as the pit he’d just unearthed.

And now, Gabriel was in the process of bringing her here—straight to the scene of the yet-to-be-committed crime.

Telling himself he’d made the right call—that here, at least, he could keep a close eye on her and ferret out her plans—Dorian turned back to the task at hand, hiding the objects among his father’s things. He and Cole had just tucked away the statue when the phone buzzed inside his suit jacket, scattering his dreary thoughts.

Gabriel.

“Did you retrieve them?” Dorian asked.

“If by them you mean me and my sister,” came the fiery, female, definitely-not-Gabriel reply, “then no. We’re still in Manhattan, un-retrieved, waiting for an actual invitation. Or an explanation. Hell, I’d settle for a simple hello at this point.”

The knot inside Dorian’s chest tightened anew, the melodic sound of her voice filling him at once with repulsion and desire.

The battle between the two emotions made him ache.

Forcing a bit of chill into his voice, he said, “Hello, Charlotte. I was hoping you and Sasha were already en route.”

“En route? Do you hear yourself right now?” She paused, her footfalls echoing as she headed into another room and closed the door.

His thoughts immediately went to her bedroom, to the bed upon which he’d coaxed—through all their sinful, late-night phone calls—more orgasms from her body than he could recall.

The same bed where less than a handful of hours ago, he’d confessed his secrets over her nearly broken body.

“Dorian,” she said, her voice soft and muffled, way more sensual than he cared to acknowledge. “What the hell is going on? Why did you leave last night?”

Pain laced her words, and Dorian was immediately sorry, knowing he’d been the one to cause it.

But then the truth rushed back at him with a vengeance, and he shored up his heart, determined not to waver.

Not again.

Not ever.

“As I’m sure Gabriel explained,” he said coolly, “it’s too dangerous in the city right now, and I don’t have enough men to keep watch over you.”

“I understand, but you can’t just send your brother here to pick us up like we’re the forgotten dry