Chapter 5
Dorian opened the box Trevir had couriered over.
Inside was a small velvet pouch, a black perfume bottle, and a note.
They’d been exchanging messages over the last few days.
He’d provided several samples of his musk and a few scales for Trevir to work with, and Trevir had been confident he had what Dorian would need to help rescue Robin. He unfolded the piece of paper.
Dorian,
As discussed, the cologne in the bottle is the scent I have developed using the articles you sent me.
The instructions are simple. Before each meeting with Robin, apply a liberal amount, three to four sprays.
I estimate you should have at least twenty applications, which should be more than enough to chip away at any enchantment that Robin has been inflicted with.
The pouch contains a charmed dust. It is imperative that you apply this to Robin’s skin at your earliest opportunity; the magic will need to penetrate and work with the extracts in the cologne.
From my initial calculations, you should only need to use the dust once, but we will tailor it depending on the results.
If the spell Robin is under is strong or complex, it may take longer and need more of the dust. It might be tricky to administer the powder, but your best option would be to add it to your trouser pocket and then coat your hand when you get the chance, just before touching Robin.
As soon as you’re back from your first attempt, contact me, and I will come directly to assess the progress.
May the magic be in your favour.
Trevir
Trevir had been excellent so far, and Dorian sent Debi a message to release the next payment.
His car would be here soon to collect him for the photoshoot, and he was keen to put the plan into action.
He took the lid off the bottle and sniffed.
There was a spiciness to the scent, and Dorian would have gladly worn it without its promised effect on Robin.
He unbuttoned his shirt and applied a few sprays to his chest and abs.
Debi arrived as he was fastening his shirt.
“I’ve heard that Robin’s also on route to the studio.
He agreed the contract needed to be amended based on your preference not to semi-shift to dragon form.
The promoter wasn’t keen, so Robin will deal with him in person.
” He smirked. “Looks like the game’s on, boss. Car’s here.”
“Perfect. I owe Robin for my success; it’s the least I can do to break this controlling influence over him.”
Robin might not want him as a lover, even once he’d been freed from Simon’s enchantment, but at least he would have the ability to choose.
As it stood, Robin was at the mercy of his husband, and he didn’t see the danger he was in.
Dorian had Debi help him add the dust to his pocket, not the easiest manoeuvre, but Trevir’s suggestion was the best he had to conceal the powder.
The shoot was at a studio downtown, a night booking, as the photographer and half his crew were vampires.
He arrived and was ushered inside, where the space was already set up.
Robin was in discussion with a scruffy guy who gave off werewolf vibes, but he knew Robin wouldn’t have been intimidated by him.
A perky elf came up to him. “Hi Mr Marsten, I’m Sil. If you’re good, we could do with getting you into make-up.”
“My manager is still in talks,” he said. “But I guess he’ll get his way eventually, so it’s better to be ready to start once they’re done, then we can all head out as soon as we can.”
As an actor, he was used to being in the chair, and the make-up artist was good at her job, quick and accurate and knew how to accentuate his best features.
The shoot was for a new cologne, and the vibe was dark and dangerous.
She’d done a magnificent job of extenuating his sexual allure with smoky eyes and lips that could kiss for hours.
The wardrobe mistress was next, and she soon had him kitted out in a black shirt and trousers that fitted wonderfully.
He rolled the sleeves to the elbow and accepted several gold bracelets, which he fed onto his wrist. Dorian caught his reflection—he looked great.
Often, he didn’t bother taking the clothes home from a shoot, that perk had gotten old years ago, but he really liked these, and he’d make an exception, maybe post a photo on Instagram.
Dorian saw Robin shaking hands with the promoter—he hadn’t doubted Robin would get the result he wanted.
The guy didn’t stick around, and it wasn’t unheard of for the business managers to have little interest in the talent.
He sauntered over wanting to hug Robin, but Robin had made it clear he expected minimal contact.
He slipped his hand into his pocket, hoping he’d managed to get enough coverage with the dust and then held his hand out to Robin.
“Robin, thanks for coming.”
Robin glanced at his hand, hesitated for a moment, then shook it. “Dorian.”
“I appreciate you dealing with the contract. I know you’ve always got my back.” He smiled. “Are you able to stay for the shoot?”
Robin stared at him, then shook his head as if trying to shake off something. “What?”
“Are you okay?” he asked. He squeezed Robin’s shoulder, aiming to sound concerned. “I was just saying thanks.”
“You’re an important client, Dorian. When you need me, I’ll be here.
” Robin had thrust his hands into his pockets, a sure sign he was trying to make sure he didn’t reach out.
Which Dorian took as another good sign that Robin might be affected already by Trevir’s work.
“Our business dealings haven’t changed.”
He’d been warned not to overstep, and he knew if he tried anything now Robin would bolt.
Seeing Robin affected by the dust was reassuring, and not laying it on thick was the right thing to do.
“I wanted to know if you were staying for the shoot. But there’s also something else.
I’ve some feedback on a script, if you’ve time. I can come to your office if you want.”
The offer was to play nice. Robin had been clear on his boundaries, and if Dorian could convince him he wasn’t pushing him, he could use this opportunity to get close. He could play the long game, let Trevir’s goodies do the heavy lifting.
Robin glanced at his watch. “I don’t have time to stay for the shoot and go to my office after.”
Dorian knew that part of keeping Robin’s husband happy was to conduct as much of their business dealings in Robin’s office as possible, but that would mean a trip to a different part of the city, and even at this time of night, the traffic never stopped.
“What about Factor8? We could pop in there.” Factor8 was one of the private member clubs Robin was a patron of; its clientele were mostly vampire, but Dorian had been several times with him, and it was only a few minutes away.
Robin looked torn. “I have plans later. Can this wait?”
“It’s just that I had another look at the Maddison script and think it has real potential, but there are a couple of things that’ll need to be worked out. I know there’s a deadline, but I’m not comfortable agreeing without some adaptations.”
“I thought you weren’t interested.”
He’d been sulking over Simon and had told Robin he intended to be more selective with the projects he accepted, but he’d been stupid, and Robin would be happy if he reconsidered.
“As I said, I re-read the script, spoke to a couple of friends, and had a change of heart. If we can come to a couple of minor compromises, I’m in. ”
The role was big, franchise-defining, and Dorian was one of three leading men in the running, probably the favourite, but that didn’t mean he could be late with his decision.
Dorian’s agreement to take the role would mean a positive knock-on for several of Robin’s other clients.
He’d used it as a hook to dangle in front of Robin, and he was sure it would work.
“All right.”
He was called over by the photographer, a vampire called Tilli, who he’d worked with before and, as well as being a decent fuck, was also a master of the fine focus.
Dorian liked photoshoots, the camera loved him when he was acting, but still photography was an art where his cheekbones were transformative. He knew what he was doing and was perfectly capable of following Tilli’s orders on how to stand, where to and how to look, and be awesome.
“How about undoing one more button on your shirt?” Tilli suggested.
He undid a button just as Robin came to stand behind the camera.
Time to turn on his smoulder. Trevir’s potion should accentuate his dragon thrall and work with the dust. The humans who saw these photos would assume they were photoshopped, but he concentrated, his eyes glowing amber, a release of smoke and a shimmer of thrall that would make him glow.
He saw Robin staring, an expression he’d seen many times before Simon had got in the way.
He wasn’t immune to Dorian’s charms, and his reaction confirmed that the dust and potion combination was working.
He’d not garnered a response from Robin like that since before his marriage, and it made Dorian feel glorious.
“My fucking god, Dorian. You are sensational!” Tilli called.
The camera shutter fired rapidly, and after several minutes of various poses, Dorian decided he was done.
He reined in his thrall; his dragon powers weren’t capable of flashy tricks, but he could shift and send a mix of thrall and pheromones few could resist. Add in Trevir’s cologne, and Dorian reckoned he could have whoever he wanted.
Robin had stepped away, and Dorian wasn’t finished.
His make-up, while fabulous, was too heavy to wear for much longer.
His skin had a tendency to revert to scales without the right moisture and primers, and they hadn’t used those.
The make-up artist removed the slap, and he accepted a decent face cream and some lip gloss once his skin had been cleansed.