“I’m not sure the ‘how’ matters so much as the ‘what the fuck are we going to do about it.’”
“We need to bring Rogozin in on this. Azerius is the patron saint of his organization. Well, whatever the demonic version of a patron saint is.”
“Patron saint. Right.” Gabriel laughed. “So when it comes time to pick sides, you think Rogozin will remain loyal to the vampire king over his demonic overlord? Fuck, Dorian. Every demon in his organization is tattooed with the white raven.”
Back before the Redthornes and the Rogozin crew were so-called allies, Gabriel had tortured enough of the Russian demons to see it—the white raven branding their skin, honoring the King of Blood and Ravens himself.
“My understanding is Rogozin doesn’t have any love for the demon Azerius,” Dorian said. “It’s more of a fear-based relationship. A historical obligation, if you will.”
“Hmm. Where have I seen this show before?” Gabriel rolled his eyes, but at this point, he wasn’t even mad anymore. The whole thing was getting downright comical. “Oh, that’s right! Our own dysfunctional family.”
“Yes, the dynamic does have a tinge of the familiar, doesn’t it?”
“Father’s laughing at us. You know that, right?”
“Father was incapable of laughter in life. I suspect an eternity in hell isn’t doing much for his sense of humor.”
Gabriel tapped his empty glass on the table beside him, trying to figure out what came next. “Okay, highness. Let’s say your man Rogozincanbe trusted. Let’s say he’s bloody well inlovewith you, his loyalty unwavering, tattoos be damned. Even with all that, what could he actuallydofor us?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. Not specifically.”
“Then what’s the point?”
Dorian sighed. “I’m the vampire king, Gabriel. I can’t claim to want peace in the supernatural community if I’m not even willing to trust my own allies—to ask for unity and support in the face of a greater threat.”
“I understand that. I’m just not convinced Rogozin isn’tpartof that threat. I don’t trust him, Dorian. I’m sorry, but I just don’t.”
“I’m not asking you to trust Rogozin. I’m asking you to trustme.”
Gabriel closed his eyes. There were a thousand things running through his head—his doubts about Rogozin, his fears about Azerius taking revenge on Dorian, his unanswered questions about Malcolm’s death, his worries for Jacinda, disgust at his own failings and weaknesses in the face of an impending war that could wipe humans and supernaturals off the map…
But in the end, all he could do was nod.
It was a new thing for both of them, this trusting business. But like Dorian had said about wanting peace, how could Gabriel claim he wanted reconciliation with his family if he wasn’t even willing to meet Dorian halfway?
Besides, no matter how brutally they fought, no matter what terrible things he said in the heat of the moment, the truth was, Gabrieldidtrust his oldest brother. More than Dorian realized.
“Can we meet with him?” Gabriel finally asked. “Together, I mean? I can fill him in about what we’ve learned and see if he’s got any more insight on Azerius and the greater demonic plot.”
“You’re willing to take the risk?” Dorian’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “To share what we know about Azerius?”
“If you think it’s the right call, I’m backing you, brother.”
A tiny smile curved Dorian’s mouth, and he nodded. “I’ll make the arrangements tomorrow.”
“Good.” Gabriel rose from the chair, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. He missed his woman. Needed her in his arms. Needed to sink deep inside her and know, after all the bloodshed, after all the risks she’d taken tonight, she was truly okay. “If there’s nothing else, I’m heading upstairs.”
“Off to bed, then? But you haven’t murdered anyone in hours. Howeverwill you sleep with such a light conscience?” Dorian grinned and made a show of pulling out his cell. “Perhaps I’ll phone Rogozin now, see if he might be willing to sacrifice a few underlings for the cause.”
Gabriel laughed. “So his royal highness tells jokes now? Shall I issue a press release? Do you need a stage manager or an agent or—”
“What I need, little brother, is to know thatyou’resleeping soundly under my roof, thatColeis back to his smart-ass, pot-smoking self, and thatDuchanesis well on his way to becoming the world’s first immortal heart donor. Can you guarantee me all of that?”
“Two out of three. Unfortunately, I won’t be getting sleep tonight. Not for a good long while, anyway.” Gabriel took the bottle of scotch from Dorian’s hand and downed the last of it. “I’ve got a witch to punish. One with an annoying penchant for recklessness and disregard, among other things.”
“A match made in hell.” Dorian laughed. “Do try to keep the damage to my guest room at a minimum.”
Gabriel smirked, his cock already throbbing as he thought of all the wicked things he wanted—needed—to do to her. “No promises, highness. No fucking promises.”
