Charley couldn’t hide her grin. After last weekend’s banishment to the guest bedroom, the invitation felt like an extension of trust—a trust she wouldn’t take for granted again.
“I’ll be with you shortly,” he said.
“Are you sure? It sounds like you’ve got a lot going on.”
“I do. And none of it is as important as you.” He leaned in and brushed a sweet, sexy kiss to her lips. “Will you wait for me tonight, love?”
Charley nodded, her chest filling with a different kind of warmth—one that had nothing to do with his sexy kisses and masterful touch. “I willalwayswait for you, vampire king.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was worse than Dorian had imagined.
Crammed into the dining room he despised, some camped around the table, others standing shoulder to shoulder behind them, three dozen vampires bickered and speculated and otherwise fouled up all the air in the room.
Dorian’sair.
House Connelly, House Pritchard, House Dade. Thompson and Blackburn, Morris, Deegan, Silvestri. A good lot of them Dorian didn’t recognize at all—clueless upstarts, doubtlessly eager to make a name for themselves.
Malcolm sat at the head of the table, a smug and self-important host.
When they finally noticed Dorian looming in the doorway, the room fell silent.
Malcolm glanced up at him, his eyes full of challenge and conceit. “Well! Good evening, brother. I’m so glad you could take time out of your busy schedule to join us.”
Dorian glared at their guests, each one shrinking beneath his scrutiny with nothing more than a few grumblings of “Good evening, King Redthorne,” and “lovely to see you, your excellency.”
Bloody cowards.And these were the vampires Malcolm had recruited to help usher in his new world order?
Dorian hated all of it. Hated all of them. Hated his brother most of all.
But oh, his evening was about to getsomuch worse than that.
A wet, scuffling sound drew his attention behind Malcolm’s chair, where two vampires from House Connelly stood before the fireplace. They parted before his impatient glare, and there, chained inside a metal dog crate behind them, was a sight that turned Dorian’s blood to liquid fire.
A gray.
They’d captured a fucking gray. And they’d put it inside a crate meant for an animal the size of a German Shepherd.
The wretched beast slumped in the corner, rocking back and forth, blood leaking from a wound in its side. Every few seconds, it bashed its head against the bars and opened its mouth as if to scream, but no sound escaped.
Dorian dragged his gaze back to Malcolm, barely containing the fury burning through his veins. “Explain.”
“The gray?” Malcolm waved a hand through the air, as if the mere request for an explanation was an epic overreaction. “I discovered the poor creature on a drive through the mountains earlier—nearly ran it over. I thought our brothers and sisters should be made aware of the dangers we’re facing now.”
“And you thought it wise to bring that danger into ourhome?”
“Relax. This one’s harmless.” Malcolm rose from his chair and approached the cage, then gave it a swift kick, startling the gray. “It’ll be dead by sunrise.”
Dorian couldn’t help but notice the amulet round the creature’s neck. “No, it won’t.”
He took a deep breath, temporarily stowing his fury. He’d deal with his brother’s treachery later. Right now, he needed to regain control of this ridiculous sham of a meeting and usher these sycophants out of his home.
“Friends,” he said, turning his attention back to the mob with a cold smile, “thank you all for coming. I want to personally assure you that the members of House Redthorne—along with our trusted associates—are doing everything in our power to track down and eliminate the grays. At this point, we have no reason to believe they won’t be contained.”
“And what of the murders in the city?” Kate Connelly—a friend of Aiden’s who’d first reported the demons’ presence at Bloodbath—asked. “What of House Duchanes?”
“Excellent question, Ms. Connelly,” Dorian said. “As many of you have undoubtedly heard, Renault Duchanes went into hiding after an unprovoked attack at one of my residences. We’re still searching for clues to his whereabouts, as well as proof of his rumored association with demons and their connection to the influx of grays in the area.”
