Since she’d nearly died in his arms.
Since he’d discovered her betrayal.
“I heard some of the vamps got pretty riled up after your old man died,” Cole said, “but I had no idea shit hit the fan so hard. So Duchanes has demons in his back pocket, and now you’re saying the grays are his too?”
“Duchanes is desperate for power, Cole. I put nothing past him, no matter how dangerous or despicable.”
“That’s what worries me.” Cole stamped out the last of his joint and refilled their mason jars. “We don’t even know how many we’re dealing with here, Red. If these fuckers get out of the woods, they’ll—”
Dorian held up a hand to silence him.Thatwas one picture Coledidn’thave to paint—it shone in vivid, technicolor detail in Dorian’s mind.
It was hard enough for so-called “civilized” vampires to control their urges. The grays hadzerocontrol—they operated purely on instinct, and that instinct pushed them to consume. It was just as he’d told Charlotte: they could hunt, they could fuck, and they could feed, and that’s exactly what they did, until they burned up in the sunlight or rotted from starvation.
If they escaped the woods and reached a populated area, no one would be safe. The creatures would destroy everyone in their path, leaving no witnesses alive. And if by chance a single human escaped to tell the tale, no one would believe him anyway—it was too outlandish, even for the most open-minded among them.
By the time humans realized what they were dealing with, scores of innocents would be dead.
It was a terrible, brutal bit of chaos—and the perfect way to slaughter humans without getting one’s hands dirty.
Duchanes’ name was written all over it in blazing neon signs. For all Dorian knew, the pathetic vampire had a safe house nearby and was presently holed up inside with whatever sycophants he’d gathered, licking his wounds from the earlier confrontation and plotting his next attack.
“So tell me about the woman,” Cole said. “I assume she’s the reason the boys found you vampin’ out in my woods tonight.”
Dorian’s silence confirmed it.
“Do I need to stage an intervention?” Cole asked. “Thought you were done with that psycho vampire shit.”
“I was. Iam.” Dorian swirled the moonshine in his glass, his chest burning with a mix of leftover rage at Charlotte, the shame of nearly losing control tonight, and the swill he’d been drinking for the last hour. “I was just blowing off a little steam.”
“Right. And this little steam… She got a name?”
When Dorian didn’t answer, Cole said, “She’s the one you brought out here the other day, right?”
Heat rose in Dorian’s chest at the memory. Charlotte, twirling like a fallen leaf in the wind. Gasping at the beauty of the landscape. Peppering him with lightning-round questions on vampire origins. Laughing as she tested the limits of his Ferrari as well as his patience.
“I wasn’t aware you’d been watching us,” he said.
“Peepin’ Tom ain’t my style.” Cole laughed. “But the scent? No hiding that, my friend. Wolves have an even stronger sense of smell than bloodsuckers. I’m surprised you two didn’t bang right there on my rocks.”
“The thoughthadcrossed my mind.”
“Just a thought, huh?”
Dorian shook his head, intending to steer Cole onto some other topic—anyother topic. But when Cole rolled a fresh joint and offered Dorian the first hit, something inside him broke loose. This time, he took Cole up on the offer, sucking in a deep drag, letting the pungent smoke work its way into his system.
And then, the dam burst.
Before Dorian could shut himself up, the whole story spilled out. How he and Charlotte had met, the instant chemistry between them, the intrigue, the way her devious smile had shone a light on the darkest places inside him.
And the shameful admission that he still bloodyyearnedfor her, even now.
“A beautiful human plotting against a ruthless, bloodthirsty vampire king?” Cole said when Dorian had finally reached the end of the story. “Sounds like the start to a bad soap opera.”
Dorian rolled his eyes. “Yes, my reputation precedes me.”
“And she’s still alive because…?”
He tightened his grip on the drink and met Cole’s gaze through the smoke, attempting to channel some of that inner ruthlessness. “Because I’ve yet to decide the precise manner in which I’ll stamp the light from her eyes.”
