by Sarah Piper
“Do you think I don’t know it, mate?” Dorian asked. “Of all my so-called brothers, you’re the only one in the whole bloody lot who seems to understand the meaning of the word.”
“But,” Aiden pressed, “I’m not the one who brought you back that night.”
“What are you saying?”
“You told Charlotte I tracked you down and brought you back, but it wasn’t me.” He glanced up at Dorian, his eyes full of utter anguish. “Devil knows, I tried. But in the end, it was Gabriel who found you. Gabriel who walked the streets day and night, forgetting to feed, forgetting to sleep, forgetting all else but his eldest brother. Gabriel who dragged you out of the very fires of hell and brought you home to Ravenswood.”
“Gabriel? But… No. I remember you being here, Aiden. You never left my side.”
“Yes, I was here. I was here the night Gabriel brought you home. Here through the nights of your withdrawals, when you begged me to tear out your heart and end your suffering. And I was here when you awoke from one of your nightmares and nearly killed your brother, simply for adjusting the pillow beneath your head.”
“I… what?”
“By the grace of something I’ve never been able to name,” Aiden said darkly, “I stopped you from beheading him. You can’t see the scars, Dori, but he certainly carries them. I suspect he always will.”
A chill seeped into the room, the wind screaming against the glass, the flames flickering in the fireplace. Dorian’s very bones ached with it, his heart heavy as the darkest memories clawed their way into the light.
Gabriel, tending him at his bedside, night after night with Aiden.
And Dorian, out of his mind with bloodlust and a rage he just couldn’t quell, lashing out at shadows. There was a knife, and somehow he’d gotten hold of it and…
His stomach turned, and Dorian closed his eyes, hiding tears of shame.
“None of us knew whether we could actually bring you back from that darkness,” Aiden said, “but I was willing to try. For whatever reason, I was always able to calm you in a way the others couldn’t. Gabriel didn’t understand it any better than I did, but eventually he realized his presence here was only causing you pain.”
A hot tear escaped, slipping down Dorian’s cheek.
“And so I remained at Ravenswood,” Aiden said, “while Colin and Malcolm continued their desperate quests from afar, and Gabriel walked out the doors of his home and into a new life in Sin City, where he remained until your father died and he knew—even though you’d never deign to ask—you’d need him by your side.”
It was a long moment before Dorian opened his eyes again, and when he did, he found Aiden watching him closely—not with the look of shame and disgust Dorian had expected, but with a look of love and brotherhood. Understanding.
“You say your brothers abandoned you, Dori,” he said, “but they didn’t. They merely left. Leaving someone isn’t the same thing as abandoning them. Sometimes, walking away is the kindest, most compassionate thing you can do for someone you love.”
For the second time in as many hours, Dorian’s memories spun and blurred, then sharpened again, rearranging themselves to make room for a new version of an old story that had shaped Dorian’s life for decades.
The old stories, the things he’d told himself, the things he’d thought he’d remembered… He’d set the cadence of his life by those things. Used them to forge the iron gates around his heart, walling himself into the impenetrable fortress only Charlotte had truly managed to break through.
In so many ways, those stories—the old versions—had made Dorian the man and vampire he was.
Without them, who would he become? What was left of the Redthorne vampire king when the light of truth shone down on a legacy of lies?
He’d been wrong. About so many, many things.
He glanced down at his hand, still curled over the pages of his dark book. A hand that had slaughtered so many innocent people. A hand that had nearly cut off his brother’s head. A hand that had nearly torn out another brother’s heart.
Fuck off, brother. We’re all monsters, carved in our father’s image, just as he intended…
“What do I do, Aiden?” he whispered, his own black shame nearly shattering him. “Where do I go from here?”
“Forward,” Aiden said. “As we all must go.” He came to stand beside Dorian, reaching down to close the Crimson City Devil book in Dorian’s lap. “When you spend your life reliving the past—whether by tormenting yourself or making amends for things you cannot change—you miss what’s right in front of you.”
“How do I move forward when I’ve still so much to atone for?”
“I don’t have all the answers, Dorian. But I don’t believe we atone for the sins of our past by dwelling there. We do it by living now, moment by moment. Every deed, every word, every thought is a chance to do better. To be better.” He cupped Dorian’s cheek, brushing away a final tear with his thumb. “Let it go, brother,” he said gently. “It’s time.”
“And what of my brothers?”
“I don’t know if or when Malcolm will find his way back, but Colin and Gabriel? They’re here, Dori. Whatever happened in the past—whether it was two centuries ago, fifty years ago, or even an hour ago—they’re still here. They need you as much as you need them. All of you deserve a chance to be brothers again—brothers as you should have been, not as your father made you.”
“All of us,” Dorian said, rising from his chair. He gripped Aiden’s shoulder, holding him tight. “All of us deserve to be brothers again.”
Aiden nodded, a smile touching his lips. “Oh, very well. But I refuse to adopt the title of princeling. It’s beneath me, Dori.”
From somewhere deep in Dorian’s chest, a genuine bout of laughter broke free from the darkness, and with no more than a last, passing glance, he tossed the book—the brutal reckoning of his past sins—into the fire. Together, Dorian and his best friend watched the pages curl and blacken, just as they’d watched the remnants of his father’s dining room do the same, and for the first time in nearly fifty years, Dorian felt as if he could truly breathe in his own home again.
Aiden was, as ever, right.
His brothers, despite their mistakes, despite the shadows that lived inside every one of them—Dorian most of all—were part of one another’s hearts. No matter what challenges they’d faced—no matter what storms still gathered on the near horizon—they were stronger together.
“One thing’s for certain,” Aiden said, draining the last of his scotch. “If the presence of the princelings at Ravenswood is to become a more permanent arrangement, we’re either going to need more booze or less drama.”
“Perhaps a bit of both,” came the response, and Dorian and Aiden turned to see Gabriel lingering in the doorway, his face inscrutable. “But the less-drama bit may have to wait another day.”
Dorian had no idea how much, if anything, Gabriel had heard.
No idea what, if anything, to say.
Gabriel spared him the awkwardness of fumbling for his words by speaking first. “I just heard from one of my guys. Rudy and his man Travis slipped up. We’ve confirmed Sasha’s location.”
Dorian’s heart nearly burst with relief, and a surge of adrenaline flooded his limbs. “Aiden, will you go upstairs and wake Charlotte? And phone Cole and Isabelle?”
“Already on my way.”
Turning back to Gabriel, Dorian said, “Where is she?”
“They’ve got her stashed in the apartment above Bloodbath. Rudy and Travis are there with her now.”
Dorian was already heading for the door, but Gabriel grabbed his arm, stopping him.
“My guy says the place is crawling with enemies, Dorian. Duchanes vampires, Chernikov demons, witches, grays. It seems they’ve turned the club into their own personal hideout.”
“I don’t care if they’ve turned it into a full-on army barracks. We need to get her back, Gabriel.”
“Dorian…” Gabriel si
ghed and shook his head, and Dorian waited for him to try to talk him out of it. To remind him that no human was worth risking so much for. That he never should’ve gotten involved with Charlotte and Sasha in the first place.
He was already gearing up for another argument when Gabriel finally met his gaze again, and the briefest flicker of warmth shone in his steely eyes.
“I need to change into my demon-stomping boots first,” Gabriel said. “And you, brother, need to make a phone call to our new Russian friends.” He smacked Dorian on the cheek and grinned, then headed out.
Dorian pulled out his cell phone and thumbed through the contacts. He’d known he’d have to make this call eventually, but he hadn’t expected it to come so soon.
“All right, comrade,” he muttered, then hit the call button. “Let’s see how badly you want this bloody blade.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Looks like they got her in the front room there,” Cole said, passing the binoculars to Charley.
After Cole had called in a favor to his cop buddies to get the neighboring buildings evacuated on account of a so-called gas leak, they were all crowded inside the top floor apartment on St. Mark’s Place, right across from Bloodbath—Dorian, Gabriel, Colin, Cole, a half-dozen of Cole’s wolf shifters, Isabelle, and Charley herself—trying to piece together some semblance of a plan.
Peering through the binoculars, Charley got her first glimpse of Sasha—sitting on the couch in a sweatshirt and yoga pants, watching television and shoveling popcorn into her mouth.
“She’s okay!” Charley nearly wept with relief. “Definitely compelled, but she looks unharmed.”
“My guess is all the demons are on the main level with the witches and the Duchanes vamps,” Cole said. They really had no idea, as all the lower windows were heavily tinted, some of them bonded up after the cops raided the place and shut it down. “Grays are probably in the mix too. Gonna be one hell of a fight, Red.”
Dorian nodded.
“Where’s Rogozin?” Charley asked.
“He said he’d be here,” Dorian said. “We have to hope he comes through for us, but either way, we don’t have a choice. We need to get Sasha out of there tonight.”
“And take down Rudy and those other assholes,” Charley said, passing the binoculars to Gabriel.
Wordlessly, Dorian squeezed her shoulder.
“We’ve got some movement in the apartment,” Gabriel said. “Looks like the gang’s all here—Silas, Dominic, Rudy, and Travis.”
“What are they doing?” Charley said. “Those fuckers better not be messing with my sister.”
“They’re all in the kitchen,” Gabriel said. “Looks like they’re arguing.”
“All right,” Dorian said. “We can’t reach the apartment from the bottom—they’ll know we’re coming. We need to get onto that roof, then head down through the rooftop entrance.”
“The roof is unguarded,” Gabriel confirmed. “Bloody idiots.”
“Vampires go in from the top,” Cole said. “The wolves and the witch will take the ground floor. Charley, you and Aiden get Sasha the fuck out of there, back onto the roof and down to safety. The rest of you vampires—you work your way down to us after Sasha’s out, and together we’ll light these motherfuckers up.”
“I can help subdue the witches with a muting spell,” Isabelle said, “and keep some of the demons from possessing new vessels. But Cole, you and your team will need to guard me. I don’t know how many we’re facing in there, but I’m not powerful enough on my own to take out more than a demon or two at one time.”
“We’ve got your back, Isabelle,” Cole said.
“Whoever’s using the Blade of Azerius?” Isabelle said. “Remember—do not let it cut you. We don’t know what it will do to vampires, but since you still have souls, we have to assume the worst. One slice—one pinprick—and you’re toast.”
Dorian nodded, patting his side where he’d sheathed and holstered the blade before they’d left Ravenswood. “Noted. Now, is everyone ready?”
“Wait… That’s it?” Charley asked. “That’s the grand plan? Storm the castle, hope for the best?”
“It’s decent,” Gabriel said. “Not stellar, but workable.”
“No more specifics?” she asked.
“We ain’t got time for specifics,” Cole said. “We’ll just improvise like we always do.”
“But what if—”
“Hey.” Cole reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “You’re not the only one with sweet-ass moves this operation, Charles. We got this. All of us.”
Despite his assurances, and Dorian’s calming presence at her side, fear threatened to overtake her. But with another soft touch from Dorian on the back of her neck, Charley reined it in, forcing it down like a piece of hot coal at the bottom of her stomach. There it smoldered, the heat of it fueling her determination.
Sasha was in there. And right now, everyone gathered here wanted the same thing—to save her.
Charley could not afford to get emotional and fuck this up.
She took another deep breath, then looked up at Dorian.
He smiled at her—just once, but it was all she needed.
A wave of emotion crashed into her so hard, she nearly stumbled. She was so beyond in love with him, so fucking gone for him, there was no room in her heart for a life where he didn’t exist. He’d claimed her from their very first meeting at the auction, and though she never could’ve predicted the events that led them here, somehow she’d known, deep down, that she and Dorian were meant to be.
That they were meant to find a way out of this darkness—together.
Charley’s heart nearly shattered in her chest. But instead of breaking, it expanded, filling up with so much love for him, so much awe at his boundless love for her, at his fierce protectiveness, at his bravery, at the risks he’d taken—and would keep on taking, no matter what came their way.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Not just to Dorian, but to all of them.
And with that, they were off, heading back out into the dark night, ready to storm that fucking castle.
Chapter Thirty
Charley had always dreamed of kicking down Rudy’s door, and for the first time in her life, she finally had the balls—and the vampire strength—to do it.
No, it wasn’t his door exactly—the building belonged to House Duchanes—but that was just a technicality. Rudy was on the other side, and right now, that’s all she needed to know.
“On three,” Dorian whispered, and they both began the count.
Charley got to two before she kicked that motherfucker down.
“Chuck?” Sasha jumped up from the couch, a wide smile stretching across her face as if her big sister hadn’t just kicked down a door. “You came! Yay!”
“What the fuck?” Rudy bellowed, but before he or any of his goon squad could make a move, Charley was at her sister’s side. As the other vampires filed into the small apartment behind her, she grabbed Sasha and blurred her to the back room.
Sasha swayed on her feet, a giggle escaping her lips. “What was that?”
Charley pulled her in for a tight hug, barely holding back the flood of tears. Back the second the chaos erupted in the main room of the apartment, Sasha started freaking out.
“Charley?” She looked at her sister with wide, terrified eyes, then clutched her head, shaking it back and forth as if she were trying to shake loose some terrible nightmare trapped inside. “What the fuck is… Oh my God. Vampires! They’re vampires! And Rudy is… He’s a demon! They took me and… Charley!” She was hyperventilating now, huge tears spilling from her eyes.
“Aiden!” Charley shouted. “I need your—”
Aiden was at their side in a blink.
“Sasha? Do you remember me?” He took her hands and gazed into her eyes.
For a moment, Sasha fell silent, blinking up at him in confusion.
“It’s me,” he said. “Aiden Donovan. Dorian’s friend.”
&nb
sp; “Aiden?” A smile broke across her face, and Charley blew out a breath of relief.
“Listen to me, love,” he said gently. “Before all this terrible business with the vampires happened, I made you a promise. Do you remember what it was?”
Outside, something crashed in the kitchen, and Charley heard her uncle grunt in pain.
Good. Fucking serves you right, asshole.
Sasha took a deep, shuddering breath, then said to Aiden, “You said you’d teach me to play chess.”
Aiden retrieved something from his pocket and handed it over—the ivory king piece, Charley realized, from the chess set Dorian’s mother had given him.
“This is a king,” Sasha said.
“Precisely. The first lesson in chess is that we must always protect the king. Now, I’ve got it all set up for us back at Ravenswood, but right now, I just need you to keep him safe for me. Can you do that?”
“I… yes. I think so.” She sniffed back the last of her tears, her eyes filling with determination for her new mission. “Protect the king. Got it.”
“Your sister and I need to take care of some things in the other room, but you can stay here and keep the king safe. We’ll be right back. Okay?”
Sasha nodded and sat down on the bed, and Charley pulled Aiden aside, dropping her voice to a whisper.
“What’s going on with her?”
“Either Silas or Dominic compelled her,” Aiden explained, “And they’re both dead now. The compulsion broke, and everything flooded back at once. It’s too much for her mind to process—she just needed something to focus on.”
“But… How did you know to bring the king piece?”
“I’ve been carrying it since the night I showed you the set. It reminded me of her. I thought… I don’t know.” He gave her a shy smile, his cheeks darkening. “I thought maybe it would help, somehow.”
“You thought perfectly, Aiden, and I love you for it.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek, then turned back to her sister. “Sasha? Listen to me, baby. I know shit is crazy right now, and we’ve got a lot to catch up on, but I need you to stay calm and trust that we’re going to get you out of here.”