Dorian laughed, trying to see everything through her eyes. He supposed itwasa bit gothic and macabre—a secret network of tombs running beneath the manor, protecting the royal vampire family’s closely-guarded secrets.
Secrets Dorian was about to reveal to the human he loved.
It wasn’t how he’d imagined bringing her down here for the first time—that particular fantasy involved leading her into the darkest, most secluded tunnel, chaining her to the iron wall mounts, and tearing her clothes free with his teeth, one little scrap at a time until she was wet and hot and begging for…
Bloody hell.He forced the thoughts from his mind, willing his cock to behave.
Unfortunately for him and Charlotte both, circumstances had called them here today for another reason.
“Right this way, then,” he said, leading them toward the chamber that had served as his father’s laboratory.
In the short time since Dorian’s last visit, Colin had managed to make it completely his own. Dorian’s gaze skimmed over the organized chaos on the central stone slab—beakers and test tubes, vials of blood in a centrifuge, two microscopes, and stacks upon stacks of their father’s journals, all of them teetering precariously toward a spill.
At the center of the tabletop, the demonic book they’d unearthed with the sculpture sat unopened, black and ancient. Even at a distance, it raised the hairs on Dorian’s arms.
It felt like a warning.
Yet behind it all, Colin stood oblivious, his face glued to one of the microscopes.
“When you said your father had a lab down here,” Charlotte said, “I didn’t picture it quite so literally.”
“Complete with the resident mad scientist,” Aiden teased. Then, raising his voice, “Good morning, Colin. I see you’re spending your nights wisely.”
Colin was so lost in his work, he didn’t even acknowledge their presence.
“We’ve brought you a trade, brother.” Dorian approached the stone table and set down a small cooler of blood bags he’d brought from upstairs, courtesy of the local clinic. “Breakfast in exchange for a peek at the old Mother.”
It was a few more moments before Colin glanced up from his work, his breath catching as he finally noticed the company.
“Dorian?” he asked calmly. “Have you seen Father?”
Dorian narrowed his eyes. “Are you all right, Colin?”
“I… of course.” Colin blinked away the confusion. “I meant Father’s other… centrifuge. I seem to have misplaced it.”
His eyes were red and glassy, his long hair unkempt. In that moment, he looked so much like Augustus, Dorian’s heart nearly stalled.
“When was the last time you fed?” Dorian asked.
“Or showered?” Aiden asked. “Goodness, Colin. You’ve become the literal troll under the bridge.”
Aiden wrinkled his nose and took a step backward, but Colin was oblivious to the teasing.
He blinked again, still trying to process the sight before him.
Then, as if gripped by a sudden mania, he darted out in front of the table, attempting to block whatever he was working on from view. “Charlotte! I… Good evening. Rather, good morning. I… I wasn’t aware Dorian wanted to show you around today. I would’ve… tidied up a bit.”
“It’s all right,” Dorian said, concerned about his brother’s frazzled state. “We won’t be long. We’re just here to see the sculpture.”
Colin continued to blink.
“The Mother of Lost Souls?” Dorian prompted. “It would seem she’s captured the interest of not just Chernikov, but Rogozin as well.”
“Mother of… Lost Souls? The sculpture?” Colin snapped to attention, finally breaking free of the strange, work-induced trance. “Why didn’t you say so?”
Dorian tried not to sigh. “You really need to eat, brother.”
“And I will,” he said with a familiar, dimpled smile that filled Dorian with relief. “As soon as I get you sorted down here.”
