Dark Seduction: A Vampire Romance (Vampire Royals of New York Book 2)

by Sarah Piper

  He was right. They were running out of time. And his instincts to go through Estas were good; Charley just wasn’t sure making clandestine art deals was the right approach.

  She took a deep breath, steadying her frayed nerves.

  Her feelings about Dorian, the complications, the what-ifs… All of that had to take a backseat to the urgent reality confronting her.

  For whatever reason, fate had seen fit to bring her and Dorian together. And now, it seemed their dark paths were converging as well—Rudy, the planned heist, the demon connection, Duchanes, all of it.

  She and Dorian were in this together—along with Aiden, Cole, and Dorian’s brothers—and they needed a solid plan.

  “You can buy up all the art you want,” Charley said. “The whole seventy-million-dollar cache—or what’s left of it. But that’s not going to help us, Dorian. It’s only going to make you go broke, and—”

  “Seventy million? Not likely.”

  “And,” she said, “you’re putting your life at risk. All of you. I can’t let you do that. Not for me.”

  “We’ve made our choices,” Dorian said, and Cole and Aiden nodded.

  “Dorian.” Charley shook her head, grateful for the anger rising up again. She needed it to fuel her, to make her strong in the presence of the man whose touch had the power to melt her every defense. “This is ridiculous. You guys are sneaking out in the middle of the night with a suitcase full of money like it’s all some epic caper you can laugh about over drinks later. If your theories about my uncle are on point, then these are demons we’re talking about. Demons who can very easily kill you.”

  “You should’ve considered that before you asked for my help,” Dorian said.

  “I never meant for you to go behind my back and make contact. We’re supposed to be in this together. And now you’re—”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Aiden’s voice shattered the calm night. “You are in this together. He’s bloody well in love with you. And you obviously think he’s the dog’s bollocks, so let’s say we cut short this little quarrel, I’ll take Cole home, you two can run along upstairs and have a good shag, and we’ll all meet up for brunch tomorrow in the kitchen.”

  Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing into his hand. “Thank you, Aiden. You’ve got us all sorted now.”

  Heat rushed to Charley’s face in the wake of Aiden’s blunt assessment and Cole’s quiet snicker, but she pressed on.

  “Estas is the right call,” she said. “But if we want a real shot at finding dirt on Rudy, we need to know where Estas lives. There might be something there—pictures, account numbers, computer files, some kind of paper trail.” Charley thumbed toward Cole, who was still cradling the $500,000 mistake. “Sekhmet here will make a fine addition to your collection, but I’m afraid she can’t help us. We need an address.”

  “Smashing!” Aiden said, beaming at them. “I’ve got the address. Shall we go, then?”

  Charley and Dorian both gaped at him.

  Aiden laughed. “Do you honestly think I’d agree to this—what did you call it? Epic caper?—without running a thorough background check on the man? Demon or not, he’s got human records. Let’s see… Primary residence just across the river. Owns a commercial space on Fifth Avenue that’s currently being renovated. Where do we start?”

  “Aiden, you’re a genius,” Dorian said.

  “Yes. I am. And remember, nothing says ‘thank you’ like a raise.”

  “Take the lioness,” Dorian said. Then, to Charley, “Okay, we’ve got the address. So how do we get the evidence?”

  “That’s the easy part.” Charley arched an eyebrow, her smile turning mischievous. “We break in, and we steal it.”

  But Dorian didn’t share her sudden enthusiasm. His jaw clenched, his eyes turning cold and resolute. “You’re talking about breaking and entering into the home of a demon. Absolutely not.”

  “Why not?” she asked. “Does he live in hell?”

  “Woodstock, actually,” Aiden said.

  “Is his house some kind of crazy supernatural lair that turns mere humans into dust?”

  “Charlotte,” Dorian warned. “You—”

  “Don’t you Charlotte me, Dorian Redthorne.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “You may know your way around the supernatural realm, but when it comes to a good ol’ fashioned smash-and-grab? That’s my area of expertise.”

  “Quite a little spitfire you got there,” Cole said to Dorian. “This woman’s gonna get you into trouble. The good kind.”

  “You don’t say.” Dorian swept her into his arms, a spark of humor glinting in his eyes as he backed her up against his BMW.

  Aiden mumbled something about reconvening tomorrow morning to make a plan for the break-in, but Charley was barely listening, already losing herself in the pleasure of Dorian’s kiss.

  The other men headed back toward Aiden’s SUV, and Dorian shifted his mouth to Charley’s ear, whispering a hot warning against her skin. “I should bend you over this car right now and have my way with you. That will teach you not to leave the manor after dark.”

  Charley laughed. “You’re a naughty vampire, Mr. Redthorne.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re suddenly taking issue with fucking in public places.” He lifted her, setting her on top of the hood and guiding her thighs around his hips. “As I recall, that’s precisely how we met.”

  “Your driveway isn’t exactly public, but… Fair point.” She cocked her head and tapped her lips. “What are you proposing, vampire?”

  “Shall I draw you a sketch, then?”

  “I’m much better with hands-on learning.” She tightened her thighs around his hips and pulled him close, eager for another kiss—for whatever filthy, exquisite fun he had in mind.

  But just as his lips brushed her mouth again, the phone buzzed in her pocket.

  “I’m vibrating,” she said.

  “Me too, love,” he whispered.

  “No—my phone. Someone’s texting me.”

  “Leave it,” he said, kissing a path to her neck. Between her thighs, he was already growing hard for her.

  But Charley’s gut tightened with worry. Aside from Dorian, there were only two people who regularly texted her—Sasha and Rudy. She couldn’t risk missing a text from either of them, especially at this hour.

  “Just… one sec.” She put a hand on Dorian’s chest and reached down to retrieve her phone.

  It wasn’t Rudy.

  A shot of raw adrenaline flooded her veins, and Charley hopped off the car, heart leaping into her throat.

  “Charlotte?” Dorian asked.

  “My sister’s in trouble.”

  “I thought she was in Vermont?”

  “So did I.” With a trembling hand, she held up the phone to show Dorian the text.

  Emergency. In trouble. Meet @ Perk ASAP. Back entrance. Come alone no matter what, Charlotte!

  “Bloody hell. Aiden!” Dorian flagged him down just as Aiden was pulling out. The SUV came to an abrupt stop, and Dorian wrenched open the back door, waving Charley inside.

  “What’s wrong?” Aiden asked.

  “Sasha’s in trouble.” Dorian climbed in after Charley and slammed the door. “We need to get to Manhattan—now.”

  Without another word, Aiden shot out of the driveway, hit the main road, and floored it.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Aiden sped toward the city, but the clunky SUV was not Dorian’s Ferrari, no matter how hard he pushed.

  Charlotte was silent in the backseat beside him, chewing her thumbnail, her knee bouncing as she frantically tried to call her sister. Dorian reached over to give her a reassuring squeeze, but he couldn’t stop her fretting.

  “Everything will be okay,” he said softly.

  He believed it. He needed Charlotte to believe it too.

  Sasha was smart and resourceful—just as tough as her big sister. They’d get to her soon enough, figure this out, and then he’d bring both women back to R
avenswood permanently. No more free rein in the city, no more unplanned road trips. He didn’t care what Charlotte needed to tell her uncle to keep up the ruse. He only cared that she and her sister were safe.

  “Everything will be okay,” he said again.

  “How can you say that?” Charlotte snapped. She had her phone in a death grip, but Sasha hadn’t responded to any of her calls or texts. “I have no idea what’s going on. Sasha’s probably freaking out. Aiden, can’t you go any faster?”

  “I’m trying,” he said, but there was nothing he could do. Eighty was about the limit on this beast, and FDR Drive was always a crapshoot. Aiden finally made it to the exit, but the moment they hit Ninety-Sixth Street in Manhattan, a wall of brake lights appeared ahead.

  “For fuck’s sake.” Aiden eased them into a stop. “What now?”

  Dorian opened his window and leaned out to see what was going on.

  His stomach dropped.

  Several NYPD cars blocked the intersection ahead, attempting to redirect traffic. On the sidewalk, they were just starting to set up barricades, clearing away a rapidly gathering crowd of onlookers.

  “What’s happening?” Charlotte asked, opening the window and craning her neck to get a better view.

  A fire engine roared past them, followed by two ambulances and a fire chief’s SUV.

  “Looks like a fire,” Dorian said.

  Two military vehicles came next, followed by a S.W.A.T. van.

  “Or… not,” Aiden said. “Sometimes I really hate this city.”

  “Shit.” Charlotte pounded her fist against her thigh. “Shit, shit, shit!”

  They were at a complete standstill, boxed in from all sides, nowhere to drive. Up ahead, two cops walked down from the main intersection with police dogs. Two more followed behind them, holding poles with mirrors attached to the ends. It looked like they were stopping at each car, checking out the undercarriages, talking to the drivers.

  “They’re looking for someone,” Dorian said. “Or something.”

  “I can’t stay here.” Charlotte unbuckled her seat belt. “They want those dogs to sniff everyone’s ass for drugs or bombs? Fine. But I need to get to my sister.”

  “Charlotte,” Dorian said. “Try to relax. We’ll get through this snag and—”

  “You relax. My sister needs me. Now.”

  “We’ll get to her as soon as we possibly can,” Dorian said. His insides churned with worry and frustration, but he kept his voice calm. “Let’s just—”

  “I’m going on foot.” Charlotte pushed open the door, but Dorian caught her arm.

  “Wait,” he pleaded. “We’ll cut across town as soon as we reach the next block.”

  “Do you see this mess?” Charlotte gestured out the windshield, the cars in front of them deadlocked, police presence rapidly increasing. Construction on the other side of the street wasn’t helping matters, either. “We’re going nowhere in this.”

  “She’s right, mate,” Aiden said. “You two need to go. Now. Cole and I will meet you at Perk once we get through this shit.”

  Dorian clapped him on the shoulder, then climbed out of the car with Charlotte. They hadn’t even taken a step when one of the cops jogged over, hand on his gun.

  “Hey, hey, hey!” He shouted at them. “Back in the car.”

  “What’s going on?” Dorian asked.

  “Just another day in fuckin’ paradise,” the cop deadpanned. “You can read all about it in the morning papers. Now, get back in the car.”

  “Actually, we’re going to leave, and you’re going to turn around and forget you ever saw us.” Dorian smiled at the cop, hitting him with a deep wave of compulsion until the man could no longer remember why he’d harassed them in the first place.

  Then, without a second to lose, he wrapped Charlotte in his arms and blurred them down Park Avenue, leaving fuckin’ paradise behind.

  Dorian stopped on Park and Eighty-Third Street, just a couple of blocks from the coffee shop. Now that they’d passed the police mess, this part of the street was desolate, the high-end shops and restaurants closed for the night, the foot traffic almost non-existent at this late hour.

  “What are we doing?” Charlotte asked, breathless after the blur. “It’s… it’s this way!”

  She turned to bolt, but Dorian grabbed her arm.

  “Charlotte, wait. Listen to me. Whatever’s going on, it’s almost certainly a trap. Sasha said for you to come alone.”

  “Of course it’s a trap, but we can’t just leave her there.”

  “No. But we also can’t just charge in without—”

  “Dorian!” Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Behind you!”

  He spun around just in time to catch two vampires blurring into view, trailed by a demon.

  Two members of House Duchanes and a Rogozin half-wit.

  Bloody fucking hell.

  “Charlotte?” Dorian glanced at her over his shoulder. “Run.”

  “But you—”

  “Get to your sister,” he ordered. “I’ll be right behind you.” Then, as the dark hunger swept over him and the fangs sliced through his gums, he shot her one last wicked grin. “Just as soon as I finish my snack.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The night was black and sinister as Charley approached the wide alley that led to Perk’s delivery entrance, her nerves raw, her eyes alert.

  The vampires and demon had paid her no mind as she’d made her quick escape. Those assholes only had eyes for Dorian, and those assholes didn’t stand a chance. Two sickly looking vampires and a raggedy-ass demon against the Redthorne King? Yeah, good luck.

  At least, that’s what she told herself as she crept toward the café.

  Dorian could take care of himself. He had to.

  Right now, she had to get to Sasha.

  In the distance, a clunky street-sweeping truck whooshed along the avenue like a damn freight train. But back here, long before the morning deliveries were set to arrive, the alley was quiet, dark, and deserted.

  Charley’s instincts were screaming at her to get out of there. Dorian was right—the whole setup screamed trap, but what choice did she have? Two hours had already passed since Sasha’s text. There was no time for fear or second-guessing.

  Cell phone in hand, she moved further into the darkness.

  Up ahead she saw the delivery doorway, dim and abandoned. Just outside the door, someone had knocked over a big plastic trashcan, its contents spilling all over the pavement.

  Fighting to keep her voice steady, she called out for her sister. “Sasha? You out here? Sash?”

  Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea…

  A skittering noise behind the trashcan made her jump, but in the dim light of the alley she saw only shadows.

  Probably just a rat.

  Charley thumbed back to her sister’s text, wondering if she’d missed something.

  Emergency. In trouble. Meet @ Perk ASAP. Back entrance. Come alone no matter what, Charlotte!

  Charley had sent a dozen urgent texts in response, but Sasha never replied.

  But wait…

  Holy. Shit.

  Charley’s heart nearly stopped. Only now did she see what she’d missed before.

  Come alone no matter what, Charlotte!

  Sasha never called Charley by her full name. Which meant someone else had sent the text.

  Charley’s body went rigid, her muscles tensing as she slowly turned around, scanning her surroundings.

  Something crunched in the darkness, like wheels rolling over crushed glass.

  Charley crouched down low.

  Too late, she noticed the limo, black and sleek, no headlights.

  Too late, she felt the hand clamp roughly over her mouth.

  Too late, she felt the impossibly strong arms hauling her up and sweeping her feet out from under her.

  Too late, her phone clattered to the ground.

  Too late, she remembered Dorian’s Midnight Marauder lessons—a direct hit to the knee, a s
tomp to the foot, take the most effective shot.

  She was paralyzed with fear, unable to hit any of those targets as the man dragged her toward the limo and tossed her into the backseat. He climbed in behind her and slammed the door shut, trapping her on the bench seat between his own bulky form and that of another man, faceless in the dark shadows.

  Oh, hell no.

  Survival instinct finally took over, and she thrashed and kicked for all she was worth. The shadowed man put his hands up to protect his face. Instead of gouging out an eye, she snagged his watch, popping the clasp. It fell from his wrist just as the other man yanked her backward by the hair.

  The shadowed man leaned in close, his features coming into sharp relief. “Good evening, Charlotte. Feeling feisty tonight, I see.”

  “Uncle… Rudy?” Charley gasped. It was Rudy… but it wasn’t. Same hair, same suit, same threatening grin. But his eyes, cold and calculating on the best of days, were nothing more than black pits in a twisted face.

  Charley’s throat closed up, her legs thrashing again as she tried to get away from him.

  But the other man tightened his grip on her hair, making her eyes water. “Stop fighting, bitch.”

  Rudy bent down to retrieve his watch. The moment he fastened it back in place, his eyes returned to normal.

  “Jesus fuck,” Charley breathed. She had no idea what that watch magic was all about, but one thing had just become painfully clear.

  Her uncle wasn’t just working for the demons. He was a fucking demon.

  “Language, Charlotte. Honestly.” Rudy rolled his now-human eyes. Then, nodding at the other man, “Do it.”

  Before Charley had time to wonder what “it” meant, the dude released her hair and gripped her shoulders.

  “You didn’t see anything strange,” he said smoothly, staring deep into her eyes. “Just your uncle Rudy and his associate, here for a little chat.”

  An uncomfortable pressure built up inside her head, as if some invisible force was trying to push its way in.