After trailing her and Jameson on Saturday, he knew she hadn’t gone home—Jameson had dropped her at an address on Water Street, nowhere near the Park Avenue address Dorian had spied on her driver’s license the night he’d found her purse in the gardens. Sitting in his black BMW M8 like a bloody stalker, he’d watched through the tinted windows as she entered the building. Then, no more than half an hour later, she exited and hopped into a taxi.
Again, Dorian followed her—this time, straight to Park Avenue.
Satisfied she was safely home, he took off, hoping they might catch up on the phone later that night. But in the four days since, he’d barely spoken to her. She’d ignored all of his calls, offering no more than a handful of noncommittal texts in return—empty promises about wanting to see him again, followed soon after with excuses about why she couldn’t.
Work meetings!
Homecoming BBQ at Sasha’s school!
Hair appointment!
Devil’s balls, that last one had really stung.
“I’m starting to understand why you don’t like people,” Aiden said, returning to Dorian’s office looking uncharacteristically flustered. “Sodding hell, that was torture.”
“With more fun to come tomorrow.” Dorian continued his pacing, keeping his back to the expansive windows. The sun felt overly bright today; his eyes ached as if someone had plucked them out of his skull, stomped on them, and shoved them back in.
“When was the last time you fed?” Aiden asked, tracking Dorian’s movements across the office. “You don’t look so hot.”
“I’m fine.”
He wasn’t fine. The sustaining effects of the demon blood he’d recently dined on hadn’t lasted very long, and the hospital from which he typically procured blood bags was experiencing a shortage. Dorian had been forced to purchase synthetic blood from Marlys—a last resort composed of cold extracted demon blood, animal blood, and a magic tincture so foul it had Dorian nearly wishing for death.
Dorian rubbed his eyes, trying to ease the throbbing behind them. It was maddening, but if they didn’t secure a bonded witch soon, the sunlight was going to be the least of his problems.
Day by day, Dorian was losing his ability to process the nutrients his body needed from blood. And though his brothers and Aiden hadn’t started showing the symptoms yet, he knew, deep in his gut, they would all eventually succumb to the same affliction.
“Dorian, are you certain you’re—”
“I said I’m fine, Aiden. Is there anything else?”
“Actually, yes, if you’ll allow me to share it without biting off my head.” He settled into his favorite spot in Dorian’s chair, helping himself to a sip of Dorian’s coffee, long gone cold. “I’ve received word from Kate—my contact at House Connelly. Two of her sisters reported seeing demons at Bloodbath this week.”
Dorian stopped pacing, his eyes widening. Bloodbath was an underground nightclub on St. Marks Place, owned by Duchanes and his associates. The clientele was mostly vampires, but more and more lately, Dorian had been hearing rumors of human guests—most likely blood slaves. The presence of demons was disconcerting to say the least—the monsters weren’t supposed to set foot in Manhattan at all.
“How certain was she?” Dorian asked.
“Positive. They spotted them on three different occasions.”
“Chernikov’s?”
“They didn’t know.”
Dorian dropped into the leather chair across from Aiden, his mind turning over the intel. If theywereChernikov demons, he’d have another problem on his hands. He thought he’d made himself clear at his meeting with the Russian about keeping his demons on a leash.
Dorianreallyhoped Chernikov wasn’t baiting him.
“Any sightings of the elusive Renault Duchanes?” he asked.
“No, and according to Kate, no one’s talking about him either. She tried to get cozy with one of his newer sirelings, but the man was a vault.” Aiden shook his head. “This isn’t just about an attack on Charlotte. There are larger forces at play.”
Dorian agreed. The attack at Ravenswood, Renault’s convenient appearance during the Central Park demon attack, the bid for Armitage Holdings, and now, unidentified demons hanging out at Bloodbath… something told Dorian it was all connected.
He just couldn’t figure out how.
“I want him eliminated,” he said.
“We have to locate him first. Have you thought of asking Marlys to reach out to Jacinda?”
