Dark Seduction: A Vampire Romance (Vampire Royals of New York Book 2)

by Sarah Piper

  No. He won’t kill me here. Not like this. He still needs me to get Dorian out of the way. It’s the middle of the morning. The doorman knows he’s here. His fingerprints are all over the kitchen. Sasha could walk in at any minute…

  The thought of Sasha witnessing the deplorable scene in the dining room sent a fresh wave of nausea through Charley’s insides.

  “And if anything should happen to me,” Rudy went on, “know that I’ve got layers upon layers of contingency plans in place.”

  “Contingency plans?”

  “To ensure you and your sister are… taken care of. We are family, after all.”

  His grip was so strong, so unrelenting, Charley was sure her bones would snap if he didn’t release her soon. Inside, she writhed in agony, but she didn’t dare move. She had to keep talking, to keep asserting the lies.

  She needed Rudy to believe she was on his side.

  She needed him to calm the fuck down.

  “Please,” she whispered. “I understand completely. You can trust me. It’s not about feelings, I swear. The acquisition timeline is legit. You said it yourself—Travis’ guys interviewed him. They can vouch.”

  “I’m sure they can.”

  “Rudy, please!” Charley’s voice was hoarse, her breath shaky and weak, but she had to convince him that he needed her. That she alone could handle Dorian and his brothers, could lure them away from the house long enough for the rest of the crew to get the job done. “I’ll do what needs to be done—I swear. I just need a little more time. You have to understand that!”

  “Don’t tell me what I have to understand.” His hands clamped around her throat, tightening. The edges of her vision faded, the dining room turning gray and spotty before her eyes.

  This is it. He’s really going to kill me.

  Charley stretched forward in a futile attempt to reach the gun, bad ideas be damned, but Rudy held her back.

  “You’ve always been a feisty one,” he said. “I’m sure Redthorne appreciates that.”

  “Please,” she croaked again. “Don’t do this. Not here.”

  Rudy laughed, cold and cruel, finally releasing her. “Don’t be so fucking dramatic.”

  Charley slumped forward in her chair, gulping in oxygen. Her neck and shoulders throbbed, fear pulsing through her limbs.

  Without another a word, Rudy removed her plate from the table and brought it into the kitchen, leaving the gun. It taunted her, begging her to pick it up, take aim, and squeeze the trigger, just like she’d done when she’d tased the demon in Dorian’s bedroom last night.

  But no matter how badly she willed it—pictured it, even, his blood splattering on the kitchen wall, body dropping like a bag of rocks—she couldn’t make her hands move.

  And if anything should happen to me, know that I’ve got layers upon layers of contingency plans in place…

  Charley didn’t doubt it. Rudy had always been paranoid; back in the day, he’d even accused her father of cutting him out of a few deals. But now, it seemed his paranoia had exploded into full-on psychosis.

  He’d said she and her sister would be “taken care of.” Whether he’d have Travis do it, or some other lowlife associate she’d never even heard of, Charley had no idea.

  Right now, she only knew one thing:

  A dead Rudy meant a dead Charley and Sasha.

  “Do you know the best part about watching you contemplate shooting me?” he asked from the kitchen, his voice dripping with mockery. “The gun isn’t even loaded.”

  Tears slipped down Charley’s cheeks, and her hatred for her uncle suddenly turned inward, zeroing in on a new target—herself.

  She hated that she’d become the kind of woman who cowered in the cruel shadow of a man, who broke beneath the weight of his threats. She hated that as much as she’d tried to protect Sasha, one mistake could undo all of it, sending her beautiful sister to the grave. She hated that she’d become a pawn in a deadly game she’d never signed up to play.

  And in this moment, she hated that all she really wanted was for Dorian Redthorne to blur into the room, tear out Rudy’s heart, and sweep her into his powerful embrace, making her problems disappear with a deep, passionate kiss.

  Maybe that made her weak—even weaker than the trembling mess of a woman Rudy probably saw when he looked at her—but Charley didn’t care. Wasn’t that what you did for someone you loved? Looked out for them? Saved them when they didn’t have the strength to save themselves?

  From the corner of her eye, she caught Rudy rummaging beneath the sink for the dish soap and a rag. She had a dishwasher, but Rudy turned on the faucet and soaped up the plate anyway, humming an old Italian lullaby her father used to sing.

  The melody made Charley’s heart ache.

  A few minutes later, Rudy cleared his throat, and she finally looked up and met his gaze. He stood in the archway between the kitchen and dining room, watching her with unchecked disdain, clutching the dishrag as it dripped water onto the tile floor. A lone rose petal peeked out from beneath his shoe, red as blood.

  She felt broken inside, unable to move.

  When Rudy spoke, she flinched again, and the asshole smiled, eminently pleased with himself.

  “Two weeks, Charlotte. Three at the absolute max. If we have to revisit this topic again, you and your mother’s pretty little bastard will find out what it truly means to hurt. Understood?”

  She nodded.

  “I didn’t quite hear that,” he said.

  “Yeah.” Her voice cracked. She coughed and tried again. “Yes. I understand, Uncle Rudy. Two weeks, three tops. You got it.”

  “Good. Now clean up the rest of this mess before your sister gets home from Darcy’s.” He flung the dirty dishrag across the room, hitting her square in the face.

  By the time it slid down and plopped into her lap, Rudy and the gun were gone.

  Chapter Six

  Sasha’s bathroom was closer, and Charley barely made it inside before her stomach convulsed, emptying its meager contents for the second time that morning. Even when she had nothing left, she still heaved, her tears unstoppable, her body trembling with fear and shame.

  Unable to face herself in the mirror, she stripped out of her robe and pajamas and stepped into the shower, using an entire bottle of exfoliating bath gel to scrub Rudy’s touch from her skin.

  In the quiet fury of her work, she considered her options.

  Even if she wanted to let the robbery play out, there was no way Rudy’s scheme would work. She’d bought herself a few more weeks, but that was just a stalling tactic. Luring Dorian and his brothers out of the house for a weekend trip together? With her? Without arousing suspicion? Not happening. It wasn’t just the FierceConnect acquisition either; Charley wasn’t exactly versed in supernatural politics, but after last night, she was pretty sure a war was brewing, and the Redthornes were smack in the middle of it.

  She could grab the passports, pack their bags, use the credit card to get out of the country with Sasha for good. The thought had crossed her mind before, but… No. Rudy controlled the credit card and would easily track her movements. She had a few hundred in cash hidden in a false-bottomed cookie jar, but how far would that get them? Buffalo? Toronto, if they were lucky?

  She could turn herself in, cop a plea deal, try to take down Rudy and the whole crew in one fell swoop. But that wasn’t a sure thing, either. Warrants took time, and time meant risking Sasha’s safety. Rudy had been watching her, tracking her work schedule and social plans—he’d made that clear over breakfast. Charley had no doubt that if her uncle sensed the heat closing in, Sasha would be dead before the cops even kicked down his door.

  Charley leaned her forehead against the tile and closed her eyes. Her mind spun in circles, searching for every possible loophole, but in the end, she only had one play left.

  The truth.

  She was in way too deep, and Rudy was quickly unraveling, growing more impatient every day.

  Maybe she didn’t need the fa
ntasy version of a dark, deadly hero—a vampire in tarnished armor, charging in to slaughter her foes and save the day. But she did need help. Without it, she couldn’t protect Sasha or prevent the robbery.

  Which meant Charley had to confess, once and for all. To look into the eyes of the man she was falling for—the vampire she was falling for—and admit she’d been plotting the heist of his entire estate.

  He might call the cops, which would be bad.

  He might tell his brothers, which would be worse.

  He might even kill her. He was a vampire, after all—the king—and she’d betrayed his trust. Last night, she’d caught a glimpse of his primal fury—a fury unleashed by his enemies.

  A fury unleashed by the threats against her life.

  Seeing that fierce, brutal side of him… It had thrilled and terrified her in equal measure.

  But how would it feel to be on the receiving end?

  Charley opened her eyes and pressed a thumb to her wrist, the ghost of Dorian’s mouth lingering.

  A vampire.

  Her mind still railed against it, even now.

  But across the tumult of her violent, confusing, and even erotic memories of last night, one thread wove through them all, strong and certain: Dorian had protected her. He’d risked his life for her. So whatever anger her confession inspired, there was still a chance he’d be willing to help her figure this out—help her keep Sasha out of harm’s way.

  That was all Charley could think about now. She’d risk everything for her sister, no matter what the cost.

  Even if it meant pissing off the vampire king.

  Even if it meant walking away from the only man she’d ever truly fallen for.

  That was the price of mixing her kind of business with his kind of pleasure. It was a price that kept on rising, no matter how many times she thought she’d already paid it.

  Turns out she’d never even come close.

  After the shower, Charley inspected her naked body in the mirror. The dark circles beneath her eyes had faded, but her shoulders and collarbone were raw, the pale flesh swollen and red. Dark, fingertip-shaped welts had risen to the surface, and no amount of scrubbing would erase them.

  Fresh tears welled in her eyes, but a jarring knock on the bathroom door broke through her despair.

  “Charley?” Sasha rattled the locked doorknob, her voice high and edgy. “Let me in.”

  “Um… Just a sec!” Frantic, Charley grabbed her bathrobe from the hook, yanking it around her body just as Sasha popped the lock and pushed open the door.

  “What the hell is going on?” Sasha asked, gripping the butter knife she’d used to break in.

  Charley forced a smile. “What are you doing home? I thought you were staying with Darcy until tomorrow.”

  “Rudy called me and said I needed to get home immediately.”

  Charley’s blood ran cold. “What?”

  “He said there was an emergency. I kept calling and texting you, but you didn’t answer.” Tears of relief and frustration spilled down her cheeks. “God, Charley! I didn’t know what happened and I just ran for the nearest cab and I was totally freaking out and—”

  Charley cut her off with a tight hug.

  “It’s nothing. I… I wasn’t feeling well. I think I ate some bad eggs.” She pulled back, keeping her voice light. “Rudy was overreacting. I’m sorry—I didn’t even know he had your number.”

  “Neither did I.” Sasha folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the doorframe, clearly not buying Charley’s casual, everything’s-just-fine act. “He also wanted to know how my psych presentation went on Friday. How the hell did he even know about that?”

  “It must’ve come up in passing.” Charley swallowed the knot of fear and anger in her throat. The last thing she wanted was for Sasha to worry, but Charley’s nerves had just kicked into hyperdrive.

  So not only does he know her work schedule and her social plans, but her class schedule too? Down to her presentations?

  “When did you two start doing family breakfast, anyway?” Sasha asked, still suspicious. “And what happened to your flowers? Seriously, Charley. What the fuck is going on?”

  Charley turned back toward the mirror, unable to bear the weight of her sister’s astute questions. But Sasha stepped behind her, meeting her gaze in the reflection.

  “Look at how miserable you are, Chuck.” Sasha shook her head. “No job in the world is worth that—not even for family.”

  “We have bills, Sasha.”

  “Let’s just sell this place. We’ll move. I’ll take more shifts at work, go down to part-time at school. We’ll figure something out.”

  Charley blew out a breath, wishing she could make her sister understand, but she couldn’t—not without scaring the shit out of the girl. “I’ll work it out with Rudy. He’s not… he’s not totally unreasonable.”

  “Are you kidding me? He’s a classic psychopath! He meets all the criteria.” Sasha held up a hand, counting down with her fingers. “Uses intimidation tactics for his own personal gain. Doesn’t show remorse. Fakes emotion to get you to trust him. Manipulates you every chance he gets. Trust me—I’ve been studying this stuff all month, and Uncle Boss totally fits the profile.”

  Charley offered a sad smile in the mirror, but before she could give Sasha any more false reassurances, the doorbell startled them both.

  Aside from Rudy, who technically owned the place now and had his own key—a fact Charley had never even considered until this morning’s surprise drop-in—visitors had to be announced by the doorman.

  Charley turned and grabbed Sasha’s shoulders. “Stay in your room. Lock the door. Don’t come out until I say so, okay?”

  “What? Why? Should I call the police?”

  “No, just stay out of sight. I’ll handle it.” Charley went to the front door and looked through the peephole, heart in her throat.

  But the man standing on the other side wasn’t Travis or some unrecognizable thug sent to “take care” of them.

  “Gabriel?” She opened the door, relief flooding her limbs at the sight of Dorian’s youngest brother. He was cold and off-putting—very possibly dangerous—but Charley would take her chances with a Redthorne royal over her uncle’s brand of cruelty any day.

  “Ms. D’Amico.” Gabriel gave a slight bow as he stepped inside. “My brother has ordered me to bring you and your sister to Ravenswood.”

  “Ordered you?”

  He rolled his eyes. “The king says jump, the rest of us say how high.”

  Despite the obvious irritation, his mood was much more somber than the last time she’d seen him. Almost… compliant.

  Charley didn’t know whether to be relieved or afraid.

  “What’s Dorian doing back at Ravenswood?” she asked. “Did he tell you what happened last night?”

  “I was here, Ms. D’Amico. All of us were.”

  “All of you?”

  “With the exception of Aiden, who was sent to look for your sister. I’m told he wasn’t able to locate her, though. Have you heard from her?”

  “She’s here, but… You guys were in my penthouse last night?” She closed her eyes, once again chasing memories that were still just out of reach. The men arguing in the living room. Colin, tending to her wounds with a mysterious woman. Dorian, frantic with worry, whispering that he’d fallen…

  “Are you feeling better?” Gabriel asked. “Looks like your color has returned.”

  The sincerity in his voice shocked her, and she opened her eyes, her suspicion growing by a mile. “Gabriel. What the hell is going on? When did Dorian go back upstate?”

  “As soon as we knew you were safe.”

  “But why? Has he heard any more from Duchanes?”

  “Not yet.”

  She had so many more questions—why the fuck had Dorian left her last night? If he wanted to see her so badly, why had he sent Gabriel instead of coming himself? Was he still freaked out about drinking her blood? Was Duchanes st
ill a threat?—but before she could find the words, Sasha bounced into the room.

  “Hey!” Sasha said, beaming at their guest as if the last ten minutes had never happened. “I’m Sasha, Charley’s sister. Who the hell are you? And are you staying for lunch? You totally should. Right, Charley?”

  “Gabriel Redthorne.” He bowed again, clearly uncomfortable at Sasha’s attention.

  “He’s Dorian’s brother,” Charley explained. Then, realizing Sasha probably had no idea who Dorian was either, she added, “The guy I’ve been seeing.”

  “Oh my God! You’re Mr. Already Forgotten’s brother?” She turned to Charley with wide eyes and a huge smile, mouthing a single word: hot! “Why am I meeting your boyfriend’s brother before I’m meeting your boyfriend?”

  “Dorian isn’t my boyfriend, Sasha. We’re just…” She caught Gabriel’s eye, hoping for an assist, but the vampire merely glared.

  Charley glared right back. My day’s not exactly going according to plan either, buddy…

  “Don’t stop digging the hole on my account,” he said.

  “Yeah, Chuck,” Sasha teased. “Don’t stop digging. I want the scoop on the whole family. Clearly, you’ve been holding out on me.”

  The light had returned to Sasha’s eyes, and for that, Charley was grateful, even if the sight of Gabriel brooding in her penthouse—in Dorian’s absence, no less—left her uneasy.

  “Are you coming?” he asked Charley. “Or do I need to prepare for an argument with my brother?”

  “Coming where?” Sasha asked.

  “Nowhere.” Charley shot him another warning glare, but the sudden concern in Gabriel’s eyes made her adrenaline spike.

  “It’s not safe in the city,” he whispered. “For either of you.”

  Charley sighed. He was right. In all the stress of dealing with Rudy this morning, she hadn’t even fully processed last night’s attack—what she could remember of it, anyway. But if Dorian hadn’t heard from Duchanes, the vampire and his demons were likely still on the loose.

  And she was probably still a target, which meant Sasha was also in danger.