Charley nodded, pressing her legs together to keep from trembling. She was so parched, so thirsty, but she didn’t dare reach for her water glass, lest she knock it over and cause an explosion of hellfire.
Dorian, Gabriel, Isabelle, and Aiden were at a restaurant around the corner, but that was little more than a show of support. It wouldn’t do her any good if things went bad here.
Right now, there were only two things keeping her safe: the fact that she was promised to Azerius, and the assumption—the hope—that Rogozin didn’t want to start a war with the vampires.
“Would you like a drink?” Rogozin gestured toward a decanter of clear liquid—vodka, she guessed.
Charley shook her head, then cursed herself for not knowing the custom. Was she supposed to politely decline the offer? Or was it rude not to accept? She was about to change her mind when one of the other demons let out another raucous laugh. He leaned over to the demon with the barbed wire tattoo and said something in Russian, making the rest of the demons laugh too.
Fear crept down Charley’s spine, settling like a block of ice in her stomach. She had no idea what they were laughing about—killing her? Dumping her body out with the restaurant trash? Incinerating her? Did they all know she was promised to Azerius? Isabelle was certain they could sense the mark, and Charley was certain Rogozin had something to do with giving it to her, but still.
There were alotof unknowns.
Nowhere to go but through it…
Charley closed her eyes and took another breath, deep and calming. When she opened her eyes again, they were all watching her, waiting. The room had gone so quiet, she heard the ice cubes shifting in their water glasses.
“Gentlemen,” she finally said, digging deep to find her strength. An image of Sasha filled her mind, and she clung to it. “You are obviously very busy men.” She pulled her laptop from the bag and set it on the table with a thunk, making the silverware rattle. “Allow me to get right to the point.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Charley laid out her case like a master prosecutor, presenting the evidence of Estas and Rudy’s treachery, including Rudy’s plans to escape to Brazil before delivering the artifact he’d promised Rogozin and Chernikov.
They might not have trusted her when she’d first walked in here today, but Rogozin and his demons couldn’t ignore the evidence. It was too compelling, and much too complex a scheme for her to be making it all up.
“I always knew Rudy D’Amico was piece of shit,” Rogozin said when she’d finished. “No offense to your family name.”
“None taken.”
“Estas? He surprises me. I thought he was loyal.”
“I understand the feeling, sir.”
“Yes, I suppose you do.” He chewed the ice cubes from his water glass, considering her for a long moment. The other demons stared at her with blank eyes.
After a long, uncomfortable silence, Rogozin finally said, “You told me story of betrayal in my organization. Maybe I owe you story as well.”
“I’d love to hear it.” Charley forced a smile through a wave of nausea. Was he serious? Or was he stringing her along, only to deliver some terrible punchline at the end—something to amuse his brooding demonic sidekicks?
“Your father, Paul,” he said, and Charley immediately stilled. Of all the stories he could’ve told her, she was not expecting one starring her father.
“He did not know about us,” Rogozin continued. “About supernatural, I mean. Not until later. But Rudy, he always knew. He was working side jobs for me for many years—since he was school boy with broken heart. His girlfriend sleeps with his brother, he says.”
Charley nodded. “I understand my mother was capricious. I recently learned she and my uncle had a longtime affair.”
“Yes, and for all that time, he made deals to get her back. One day, he promised me someveryvaluable items. He brought your father to make delivery.” He held her gaze a beat, ensuring she got his meaning, and Charley sucked in a breath.
He was talking about the Long Island pizza place.
Where you off to, little girl?
A chill gripped her spine, but she forced herself to remain still. Stoic.
“But when they made delivery,” Rogozin continued, “I discovered all items were forgeries. As you can imagine, I became upset.”
So upset you sent your goons after a helpless kid?
“After that…” He shook his head, then took a deep drink of vodka, his eyes filling with something that looked a hell of a lot like shame. “Understand something, Ms. D’Amico. I didnotsend those men after you.”
