“Too brutal to be a natural predator, but too…” He stared into his glass, searching for the word. “Toospecificto be human hunters.”
“Specific?”
“Throats torn clear out. Blood drained. No signs of struggle though, thank fuck. I doubt those animals suffered—it happened too fast.”
Dorian took a deep breath of cigarette-and-marijuana-tinged air, his mind churning. He couldn’t imagine why any vampire would do such a thing. Animal blood didn’t sustain them, and most vampires with a taste for mutilation preferred human victims.
“It doesn’t add up,” Dorian said. “If not for the blood, I’d say we were dealing with something else.”
“Ain’t just the blood.” Cole fished something from the pocket of his flannel and tossed it on the table.
Fangs. They scattered between them like dice, jagged and broken, stained with blood and rot
Dread pooled in Dorian’s stomach. Vampires didn’t lose their fangs.
But the wraiths did—those vile, inhuman creatures without access to human blood, bound to misery in the dark, dank places of the world.
Dorian selected one of the sharp, yellowed bones from the table, turning it over against his palm. “There haven’t been any reported sightings of the grays in decades.”
Grays.A mildly pleasant euphemism for monsters that were anything but.
“Near as I can tell, they’re coming from up north. Probably a cluster of ‘em holed up somewhere in the Adirondacks.” Cole scratched his scruffy beard, his brow creasing. “Any idea what would bring ‘em down our way? Can’t imagine they’re here to pay respects to the late king.”
“Nor to swear fealty to the new one.”
“I’m bettin’ not, yourhighness.” Cole grinned, a moment of levity that brightened the dark night. “Gotta admit, I didn’t think the ol’ man would ever kick off.”
“No one was more surprised than I, believe me.”
“I’d say sorry, but I know how you felt about him.”
Dorian appreciated the man’s honesty. “The world is certainly a better place without Augustus Redthorne.”
“Can’t imagine it’s easy though, all your brothers being back.” Cole dug through the junk on the table for a lighter, then plucked the half-spent joint from the ashtray, sparking it up and taking a deep drag. “How you holdin’ up?”
Dorian laughed. “I see your self-imposed isolation hasn’t prevented you from keeping up on the latest vampire gossip.”
“Matter of survival. Gotta know who the players are.” He offered the joint, but Dorian declined, and Cole took another hit, the pungent smoke quickly overtaking the tiny kitchen. “Besides, if this bullshit with the rogues proves anything? Ain’t no place secluded enough to outrun fate. Not for us.”
“You think being stalked by grays is our fate?”
“I’m just sayin’… The human world? That’s exactly what it is. Thehumanworld. We can play in their sandbox, Red, but it won’t ever be ours.Ourworld is…” He shook his head and scooped up the teeth, fisting them tight. “Blood and death, brother. Blood and death.”
Cole had always been prone to philosophical tangents when he smoked, but tonight’s declaration felt particularly ominous.
Blood and death, brother. Blood and death.
He was right. Thatwastheir world. And Dorian, in the blind, selfish pursuit of his own desires, had dragged an innocent woman right into the thick of it, putting her directly in the path of Renault Duchanes and his demon mercenaries…
She’s not bloody innocent, you knob.
“Anyway,” Cole said, “I figure something must’ve changed up north, right? Something messed with their home environment. Either that, or someone led them here on purpose. But who the fuck would dothat?”
“Renault Duchanes.” The name was out of Dorian’s mouth before he could even think it through, but the moment he said it out loud, he knew it was true. “House Duchanes is plotting against the crown. I turned down their alliance after my father’s death, and after that, everything just… fell apart.”
Dorian told him the story—the spurned offers for the Duchanes witch and the blood donors, the attacks on Charlotte, the string of threats in Dorian’s penthouse. So much had happened, it was hard to believe it’d only been a few hours since he’d left Charlotte’s bedside.
Since he’d nearly drained her dry.
