Dominic smiled, wondering what she would say if she knew the vampires of this century's bubble-gum books and movies were nothing like the real thing, especially when it came to, quote, mashing their faces together.
"I will be home as soon as I can ditch this work thing," she said. "Nine o'clock, ten tops."
Not if I have anything to say about it, love…
She put the phone away, and Dominic watched in abject fascination as she removed a mirror from her purse and checked her makeup and hair, brow furrowed as she smoothed back an errant auburn lock. Her movements stirred the air, carrying her scent.
Citrus and earthy scent, with a hint of something all her own.
After two and a half centuries walking the earth, Dominic had enjoyed his share of beautiful women. But something about this one captivated him in ways he had never before experienced and could not begin to explain.
"Dominic, we need to discuss…" He cut his brother off with a raised hand, attention still fixated on the woman. Her sweet summer scent intoxicated him, the soft beat of her heart pulling him into a deep trance.
As she walked across the lobby to the elevators, ignoring the now-docile doorman, their gazes met and locked for a beat… two… three…
Dominic inhaled sharply. Behind her coppery eyes, beneath the sunshine and light, darkness gathered like a storm on the horizon, stirring a terrible, ancient longing inside him.
Mine.
After what felt like an eternity, the woman averted her eyes and headed into the waiting elevator, tapping the button for her floor. But not before granting him the faintest, rose-colored smile and a shiver she tried desperately, unsuccessfully, to suppress.
Dominic's lips curved in response, his mouth watering, predatory instincts flaring as thoughts of the woman's soft skin invaded his consciousness. The taste of demon blood lingered in his throat, but perhaps he would get to sample some of that sure-fire remedy tonight after all.
His cock stirred at the thought. He took a step toward her, but a solid grip on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks, and the elevator doors closed, ferrying her away.
Dominic wheeled on his brother, fully intending to hit him with the same right hook he had given the overly pierced demon. But the look in Julian's eyes stayed on his hand, and he lowered it to his side, letting out a deep sigh instead.
"Bloody hell, Jules," he said. "You show up after fifty years… What did you think would happen? We would pop over to the nearest pub, grab a few pints, and reminisce about the good times?"
Julian's face reddened. "I am here to see to Father's affairs. To ensure our longevity."
"That is not your responsibility."
"Whose, then? Yours?" He practically sneered. "We are alone, Dominic. Father is dead. Without him, the few allies who remained loyal to House Wild will turn, if they have not already. Our power is waning.
How long until we can no longer walk in the daylight? Until we can no longer pass as human? Without a witch or an alliance…" Julian shook his head, frustration and disappointment warring in his eyes. "If you see an alternate ending to this fairytale, I am all ears."
"What I see is a washed-up vampire prince attempting to manipulate his eldest brother with guilt and melodrama. I assure you, I am moved by neither." The elevator returned, and he stepped inside, hitting the button for the penthouse.
"Dominic. This isn't…"
"Don't wait up," he said, smiling at his brother as the elevator doors began to close.
"Colin and Gabriel," Julian blurted out. "They have already arrived at Darkwood. They are expecting us to return together."
Dominic held his smile despite the fresh pit opening up in his stomach. "Tell them not to wait up either."
"Your family needs you, Dominic." Silence. It was not until the elevator doors closed and the lift began its silent ascent that Dominic dropped his grin.
Reality hit him then, a wrecking ball straight to the chest. It was not the hush of his father's final breaths.
It was not the scrape of the match against the flint, the blaze of the fire as it consumed the corpse, the fetid stench of it all.
It was not preparing paperwork for the attorney, or receiving the condolences from his driver, or wiping his father's ashes from the sleeve of his bespoke Italian suit.
It was this moment, right now, when Dominic finally understood. This moment, when the brother he had taught to read and write and shoe a horse looked into his eyes with the pain of a thousand regrets and spoke the words that had plagued Dominic's nightmares for centuries.
Your family needs you…
Julian. Colin. Gabriel. All that remained of his once expansive family. Bound to him first by blood, second by love, and lastly by the brutal legacy none of them, no matter how far they had scattered, no matter how many years had passed, could ever outrun.
The king is dead, long live the king.
The vampire royals of New York have returned.
Dominic's chest squeezed tight, forcing out a ragged breath and a single utterance that encapsulated the entirety of his thoughts "Well, fuck."
Get in. Get the intel. Get out. And above all, do not get noticed. Repeating the mantra in her head, Charley De' Albo sipped her Sapphire and tonic, steeling her nerves for tonight's assignment.
Thirteen years on the job, and she had never broken the rules. Never left a shred of evidence behind. That was her thing, no trace. The whole reason she handled the public facing gigs. She was, as her father had declared after her first big win all those years ago, a phantom.
So how the hell did a phantom manage to screw up before she had even stepped into the elevator? The man in the lobby had definitely noticed her. And in the span of four seconds, the sinfully hot stranger had burrowed so deeply under her skin, he was practically all she could think about.
The sensual curve of his lips, the fire in his eyes, the commanding presence that made it impossible to look away… Hell on hotcakes, that kind of distraction was enough to put her life at risk.
As if she needed another reminder, her phone buzzed with a text - Status?
Charley rolled her eyes, thumbing a quick reply - Waiting for the right opportunity. More soon.
Don't wait too long, kiddo - he replied, but there was nothing sweet in his message.
Even through texts, Uncle Roby's voice chilled her to the core. It was like he was standing on her shoulder, waiting for her to fuck up.
Salivating for it.