Work meetings!
Homecoming BBQ at Sasha’s school!
Hair appointment!
Devil’s balls, that last one had really stung.
“I’m starting to understand why you don’t like people,” Aiden said, returning to Dorian’s office looking uncharacteristically flustered. “Sodding hell, that was torture.”
“With more fun to come tomorrow.” Dorian continued his pacing, keeping his back to the expansive windows. The sun felt overly bright today; his eyes ached as if someone had plucked them out of his skull, stomped on them, and shoved them back in.
“When was the last time you fed?” Aiden asked, tracking Dorian’s movements across the office. “You don’t look so hot.”
“I’m fine.”
He wasn’t fine. The sustaining effects of the demon blood he’d recently dined on hadn’t lasted very long, and the hospital from which he typically procured blood bags was experiencing a shortage. Dorian had been forced to purchase synthetic blood from Marlys—a last resort composed of cold extracted demon blood, animal blood, and a magic tincture so foul it had Dorian nearly wishing for death.
Dorian rubbed his eyes, trying to ease the throbbing behind them. It was maddening, but if they didn’t secure a bonded witch soon, the sunlight was going to be the least of his problems.
Day by day, Dorian was losing his ability to process the nutrients his body needed from blood. And though his brothers and Aiden hadn’t started showing the symptoms yet, he knew, deep in his gut, they would all eventually succumb to the same affliction.
“Dorian, are you certain you’re—”
“I said I’m fine, Aiden. Is there anything else?”
“Actually, yes, if you’ll allow me to share it without biting off my head.” He settled into his favorite spot in Dorian’s chair, helping himself to a sip of Dorian’s coffee, long gone cold. “I’ve received word from Kate—my contact at House Connelly. Two of her sisters reported seeing demons at Bloodbath this week.”
Dorian stopped pacing, his eyes widening. Bloodbath was an underground nightclub on St. Marks Place, owned by Duchanes and his associates. The clientele was mostly vampires, but more and more lately, Dorian had been hearing rumors of human guests—most likely blood slaves. The presence of demons was disconcerting to say the least—the monsters weren’t supposed to set foot in Manhattan at all.
“How certain was she?” Dorian asked.
“Positive. They spotted them on three different occasions.”
“Chernikov’s?”
“They didn’t know.”
Dorian dropped into the leather chair across from Aiden, his mind turning over the intel. If they were Chernikov demons, he’d have another problem on his hands. He thought he’d made himself clear at his meeting with the Russian about keeping his demons on a leash.
Dorian really hoped Chernikov wasn’t baiting him.
“Any sightings of the elusive Renault Duchanes?” he asked.
“No, and according to Kate, no one’s talking about him either. She tried to get cozy with one of his newer sirelings, but the man was a vault.” Aiden shook his head. “This isn’t just about an attack on Charlotte. There are larger forces at play.”
Dorian agreed. The attack at Ravenswood, Renault’s convenient appearance during the Central Park demon attack, the bid for Armitage Holdings, and now, unidentified demons hanging out at Bloodbath… something told Dorian it was all connected.
He just couldn’t figure out how.
“I want him eliminated,” he said.
“We have to locate him first. Have you thought of asking Marlys to reach out to Jacinda?”
The idea had crossed his mind, but he’d dismissed it. Jacinda was Renault’s witch, so even if she did know something, she wouldn’t be eager to share it. And Marlys was a free agent, working for the highest bidder and doing her best to stay out of vampire politics. Asking her to take sides in the brewing Duchanes-Redthorne war was neither fair nor prudent.
“We’ll find another way,” Dorian said. “In the meantime, I’m going to ask Gabriel to keep an eye on Charlotte.”
Aiden’s eyebrows lifted. “Gabriel?”
“He’s got a reputation for… tracking people down.”
“Yes, and making them disappear.”
“I don’t need her to disappear. I need her to be protected. Gabriel can keep a close watch, make sure she’s not still a target.”
Aiden lowered his eyes and sighed, swirling the cold coffee in the mug.
“Say it,” Dorian said.
“I think I’ll keep it to myself.”
“For fuck’s sake, Aiden. If you’ve got something to—”
“What is it about this woman? You hardly know her, and she’s already got your balls in a jar.”
“Last time I checked, my balls are still very much in my possession.” Dorian reached for his belt buckle. “Would you like proof?”
“You spent half the meeting today with a hard-on the size of the Eiffel Tower. It wasn’t difficult to tell where your mind had wandered.”
“Piss off,” he said, but there wasn’t any ire behind it. Dorian blew out a breath and loosened his tie, knowing damn well Aiden could spot his lies a hundred miles away. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“That’s precisely the problem.” Aiden rose from the chair, crossing to the other side of the office and rifling through the file cabinet. He slammed one drawer, then opened another. “This is a critical time for us, and here you are, allowing yourself to be distracted by—”
“What in the bloody hell are you looking for?”
“The lemon biscuits, you daft, obsessed bastard.”
“First of all—obsessed? Hardly a fair assessment. Secondly, you ate all the biscuits, and you left crumbs all over my desk. And lastly…” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “She isn’t returning my calls. How have I already managed to fuck this up?”
Aiden slammed the last drawer. “So you’re bloody well in love with her, then?”
“What?” The L-word electrified his blood, his heart damn near seizing. “I never said—”
“If you won’t listen to me as your very concerned friend, listen to me as your business partner. We need to focus on this merger. Never mind Lucien’s concerns about our financials—if you don’t get yourself sorted out, we’ll lose the deal on account of your inability to pull your head out of her very beautiful, very firm—”
“I’m handling it.”
“You’re not. You were sitting at that meeting, daydreaming about your wedding when you should’ve been reassuring the investigators about our capabilities.”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m not going to propose to the woman. I just want to spend time with her.”
“You were picking out china patterns.” Aiden shook his head. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not wearing a colored cummerbund to your wedding. Classic black, or I’m staying home.”
“Are you quite through?”
“You’re obsessing, and it’s clouding your judgment.”