Dorian laughed. “Let’s start with mutually benefitting associates and see where it goes.”
“Fair enough, King Redthorne.”
They touched glasses and drank, Rogozin gulping down his entire glass in one long pull.
When he finished, he set his glass hard on the bar and said, “I will notify you when Chernikov deed is done. Later today, with any good luck.”
“Thank you. Oh, and Alexei?” Dorian held his gaze, a new understanding passing between them—the first, Dorian hoped, of many. “Dorian will do just fine.”
* * *
“So let’s recap.” Gabriel righted an overturned stool and took a seat beside Dorian. “The royal Redthornes are now aligned with Rogozin demons. House Duchanes has been decimated, but Renault himself is M.I.A. Cole is still getting reports of grays upstate. And we’ve got a dark witch’s curse to unravel, unless we all want to die a slow, terrible death.”
“Never a dull moment for House Redthorne,” Dorian said. “Not to worry, though. I think I’m finally ready to make some new hires. Security guards or… I don’t know. Minions. Don’t kings have minions?” He sipped his scotch and shook his head. “Bloody hell, this is a terrible idea. Ireallydon’t like people.”
“Fairly certain the feeling is mutual, brother.”
“You know, Gabriel, you’re quite humorous when you’re not being an asshole.”
“If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that…”
“I can only imagine.” Dorian took another drink, then said, “So what’s next, little brother? Heading back to Sin City now that the worst is behind us here?”
“Right. About that…” Gabriel reached for a glass and poured himself some scotch, then topped off Dorian’s glass. “Bloodbath was a terrible name with a terrible clientele, but the place itself has potential. Good bones, as they say. Plus, you really can’t beat the location.”
“Bloodbath?ThisBloodbath?”
“It’s ours now, brother. To the victor go the spoils, et cetera, et cetera.”
“You’re… staying?” Dorian could hardly speak through the sudden knot of emotion in his throat.
“Well,someoneneeds to keep an eye on you. Look what happened last time we left you alone for fifty years—you damn near destroyed the place. Besides, I think I already have my first employee. She looks good behind the bar, does she not?”
He grinned over at Jacinda, tied to a chair beside the other witches.
“Fuck you, bloodsucker,” she spat. “I will bleed you dry and grind your bones into dust.”
“See?” Gabriel said. “She’ll be winning customer service awards in no time.”
“If you say so.” Dorian could hardly reconcile the fiery, angry woman behind the bar with the memory of the sweet witch he’d first met at the fundraiser, wandering through his gardens in search of rare herbs.
Herbs she’d later used to poison him, but still.
After a long silence, Gabriel turned to Dorian and lifted his glass, his gaze heavy and serious, his mouth pulled into a deep frown.
In that moment, Dorian knew they were both thinking of Malcolm. Of all the things they’d said and hadn’t said, all the wrong turns, all the mistakes.
All the love.
There were no long speeches. No teary-eyed sharing of memories. But somehow, Gabriel managed to find the words that encapsulated it all.
“To brotherhood.”
Brotherhood.
For so long, it had gone hand-in-hand with betrayal and loss. With regret. With anger.
But now, it gave Dorian strength.
