Bittersweet Magic (17 page)

Maria took the outstretched hand and shook it a little tentatively.

Tara turned to Roz. “Why don’t you go shower and I’ll make some coffee. Afterward, you can ask your questions and then get some sleep.”

That sounded so good.

She stripped off the heavy habit for what she really hoped was the last time. Standing under the spray of scalding water, she let some of her tension drain away. Maybe freedom wasn’t beyond her reach, and she could come out of this with everything she’d dreamed of. And more.

She no longer had to fear that she would be killed for what she was. With that realization, a huge weight dropped away from her. She felt almost light, as though bubbles were rising up inside her.

Asmodai, the selfish bastard, had lied, and she understood why. He’d aimed to keep her under his power, and what better way than to make her believe that everyone else was out to kill her? That she had no friends anywhere in the world?

Well, what had she expected? He was a demon. He’d never pretended to be Mr. Nice-guy. But somehow, she had come to trust him, and it hurt to know that he had isolated her in such a deliberately premeditated manner.

Now, she would have to decide what to do. She still had the Key. Or Ryan did. Should she hand it over to Asmodai and gain her freedom? Or should she put her trust in these people, who she really knew very little about?

They claimed they wouldn’t have actually killed her themselves, but they wouldn’t have stood in the way if her father’s people had tried to do the job. She closed her eyes and tried to remember her father, but the memory remained nebulous. It was as though there was a curtain in her mind, hiding the memories. A curtain she couldn’t draw back. So she stopped trying. For now. Instead, she switched off the water and worked out what questions to ask Tara.

What she’d really like to ask about was Asmodai. But at the same time, she was unwilling to reveal who her demon protector was until she had decided what to do, whether or not to hand the Key over to him. Surely, that wouldn’t be so bad. After all, Tara and Christian were related to the demon. They could stop him doing anything bad with the Key.

She hoped.

Roz also wanted to know about the fae. Her father’s people. Who apparently were as bad as demons but better at hiding it.

And what else was there in the world? What other monsters were there, that she had believed were mere myths and legends?

After drying herself quickly, she pulled on a robe—hers dark red, going nicely with her pale skin. She rubbed a towel over her hair, ran her fingers through it, and went back into the lounge. The welcome scent of freshly ground coffee greeted her.

Tara and Maria were sitting, facing each other, on opposite sofas with a coffee table in between. A tray stood on the table, and Roz pounced on it. She poured herself a cup, added cream and sugar, and settled herself on the seat next to Maria, so she would be able to see Tara’s face while she talked.

“So,” she said. “Are you allowed to talk to us, tell us things?”

“You’re one of us now, and Sister Maria already knows about demons…I reckon she isn’t going to be telling any tales.”

No, maybe not. Maria would probably go back to an enclosed order and never speak again. “Okay then,” Roz said. “Tell me everything.”

Tara laughed. “I don’t know everything. I’m still learning myself.”

“So tell me what’s important.”

Tara thought for a minute. Took a sip of coffee and thought some more. “They’re good people. Here at the Order. They may come across as a little…” She hesitated as if searching for the right word.

“Bad?” Roz supplied for her.

“Yes, they may come across as bad, but they do a job that needs to be done.”

“And what is that exactly?”

Tara studied her, head cocked to one side. “What do you know?”

Roz shrugged. “Nothing.”

Tara laughed again, the sound musical. “Okay, I’ll start from the beginning.” She relaxed back against the cushions. “Years ago—more than a thousand, I think—demons and the fae pretty much did what they liked. The two don’t exactly get on, though demons are fond of fae women, which probably didn’t help matters. Anyway, they fought a lot, and there was a real danger that they would end up destroying the earth and all of mankind. So the Shadow Accords were set up.”

“Who set them up?”

“The vampires.”

There was a little squeak from Maria, and Roz glanced toward her. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open.

“Vampires?”

It occurred to Roz that no one had mentioned vampires to the sister before. It was bound to be something of a shock. She patted her arm. “I’ll explain everything later.”

Tara continued, “Obviously, vampires have a vested interest in the continuation of mankind.”

“Food?” Roz guessed.

“Exactly. They were also one of the more powerful factions, and from what Christian told me—”

“Was Christian alive then?”

Tara shook her head. “No. He’s actually about the same age as you—around five hundred, give or take a few years.”

There was another high-pitched squeak from Maria. This time, Roz ignored the sound. She would explain everything later. Or not.

“Now, Piers
was
around—”

“He was? How old is Piers?”

“I’m not sure, but Christian said he’s the oldest vampire he knows. So I’m guessing very old, but I don’t think he was particularly interested in politics back then. Or now, either. Anyway, they sort of forced the Accords on the other races.”

“But what did the Accords do?”

“They’re really a set of rules, but the main one is that the demons would remain in the Abyss, the fae would stick to the Faelands—which they were happy to do—and the vampires would make sure they did.”

“So the Order of the Shadow Accords was set up?” Roz asked.

“Exactly. The Earth was always the fighting ground, mainly because a demon can’t enter the Faelands and the fae can’t enter the Abyss.”

Unless they had a Key.
But she didn’t speak the words out loud.

“Vampires can travel between worlds, but they’ve always been seen as neutral. The only other beings that can move freely are those with mixed blood, and it has to be strong. That’s why the fae had the right to kill those with mixed blood written into the Accords. It’s why they sought to kill me. Why my mother had to pay Jonas to make a spell to keep me hidden.”

“He can do that?”

“Oh yes, he’s a very powerful warlock, though he doesn’t come cheap. Anyway, I had to be hidden because I’m half-demon, half-fae—”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Maria slammed her cup down onto the table and glared. Her gaze shifted between the two of them, finally settling on Tara. “You’re part demon?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know what’s happening.” Poor Maria sounded bewildered. “I know I should believe in demons, and I did see those things at the convent, but…” She stared at Tara and shook her head. “You don’t look evil.”

“I’m not. I don’t think.” She grinned. “To be honest, I’m still learning what I am. But one thing I do know is that even demons have free will, and they can choose how they behave. What they don’t tend to have—at least not as humans see it—is a conscience.”

Maria tugged on the belt of her robe and then clasped her hands together on her lap. “I don’t know anything anymore. I mean, where does God fit into all this?”

Tara shrugged. “Again, I don’t know. Maybe a true demon could tell you.”

Maria shuddered, and Roz didn’t think she’d be chatting to any demons anytime soon. Not if she could help it anyway.

“Go on,” she urged Tara.

“Because of my blood, I can go to either the Abyss or the Faelands—so the fae see me as a threat.”

“What about the demons?”

“They don’t care who visits the Abyss—the more the merrier, as far as they are concerned.”

“Do you know your father?”

A closed expression came over Tara’s face. For a second, Roz thought she wouldn’t answer, but she shrugged again. “I only found out who and what he was about six months ago when I went to Christian to find my family. Christian was a private investigator. I didn’t know about the vampire thing back then. Hell, I didn’t even know they existed. I had a bit of a strange childhood, but I won’t go into that now. Anyway, I only met my father once, when he helped Christian fight off the fae. He saved my life, but he’d also done things I don’t think I can ever forgive him for.”

“What about your mother?”

“She died when I was born.”

Damn. It didn’t appear as though she was going to learn much about her father’s people from Tara. “So you don’t know any of the fae?”

“I met the Walker.”

“The assassin Piers mentioned.”

“Yes—he’s also my uncle, and he’s a complete bastard.”

Roz studied her. “Does it worry you? What your parents were? What you might be?”

“Sometimes, but Christian has made me see that I can be anything I want to be, and it’s pointless trying to hide what you are. You can maybe hide from other people but never yourself. Okay, your half hour’s up. One last question.”

Roz thought for a moment. “What else is there out there?”

“Everything. Everything you’ve ever heard of. All the creatures of your nightmares. You haven’t met Carl yet—he’s a werewolf.” She grinned at Roz’s no doubt stunned expression. “And on that note, I’ll leave you to sleep.”

She rose to her feet. Roz still had a thousand questions, but she didn’t try and stop her. Exhaustion was tugging at her mind. She followed Tara out into the hallway and waited while the elevator came. As she stepped inside, Tara turned to her.

“In answer to your question earlier: it’s fantastic being married to a vampire. You should try it sometime.”

“Ha. Never going to happen.”

She waited until the door closed then leaned her forehead against the cool metal as an image of Piers flashed through her mind. The taste of him flooded her senses, and she forced the image away.

Bed.

Maria was still on the sofa. She opened her mouth, but Roz held up a hand to silence her. “I’m going to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Maria closed her mouth and nodded.

But as she snuggled down in the wonderfully comfortable bed, her head on the cool cotton pillows, and closed her eyes, it wasn’t Piers she saw in her mind, but Jack. And he was furious. He was back at his house; she recognized the room. He’d come for his Key and it was gone. Rage filled him. But beneath the rage, she could sense his underlying fear.

He’d failed his mistress and she would not be pleased. She would devour him and spit out the pieces.

Chapter Eleven

The vision kept her wide-awake.

Roz lay, staring out at the night sky through the open curtains. She was exhausted, but sleep eluded her, and she was restless, unable to settle. Finally, she gave up trying and dragged herself out of bed. A short walk in the open air and she might be able to sleep.

Except, what was she supposed to wear? No way was she getting that hated habit out of the bin a third time.

The robe she’d worn the previous night was thrown over one of the chairs, and she pulled that on. But she needed clothes; she would have to sort that out tomorrow. They’d said she wasn’t a prisoner, so maybe she could go shopping. But in what?

There was no sound from Sister Maria’s room as Roz stumbled through into the lounge. But she did find a suitcase sitting by her bedroom door. Her suitcase. Anger flashed through her—she hated the idea of someone pawing through her things. But the anger didn’t last long. She had clothes. Proper clothes. After dragging the case into the bedroom, she opened it and tipped the contents onto the bed.

She found jeans, panties and a tank top, and got dressed. The tank top revealed the sigil, but they had already seen it so that was no problem. She felt almost human by the time she was finished, and she grinned at herself in the mirror. Almost human was as close as she was going to get.

…

Graham was at the reception desk when the elevator opened—though it wasn’t Graham who brought the scowl to her face. Piers lounged against the wall, next to the elevators, arms folded across his chest, a slight smile curving his lips.

“Tell me this is a coincidence,” she muttered. His smile broadened, and she glanced down at herself. “You haven’t got me bugged, have you?”

His lips twitched. “Now there’s an idea. Actually, I told Graham to monitor the elevator from the penthouse.” He pushed himself up from the wall. “Going somewhere?” he asked.

She shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner. “I need some fresh air. I feel like I’ve been cooped up in a cell all day.” She pursed her lips. “Hey, guess what—I have been cooped up in a cell all day.”

Piers laughed. “I could use some fresh air myself.”

She needed to ease the tension in her brain, not increase it, and he was hardly relaxing company. “I won’t go anywhere.” She put her hand on her chest. “Nun’s honor.”

He laughed again. He had a nice laugh. Sexy as hell. The sound sent little frissons skittering down her spine. Maybe if he could refrain from talking and just give the odd sexy laugh, she might manage to put up with him. “Okay, you may come with me, but only on the condition that you don’t ask any more questions. Because I won’t answer.”

He considered her briefly. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

She looked him over; he was wearing his long, leather trench coat. “You know, it’s July. You probably don’t need the coat.”

He held it open to reveal a positive arsenal of weapons underneath. She counted at least three guns. Would he give one of them to her if she asked nicely?

“Okay, point made. But do you actually need all those weapons?”

“Yes. There might be demons out there.”

“Another good point. Right, let’s move it.”

He led her out of the main doors and paused for a moment. “Anywhere you’d like to go?”

“To the river. I love the river.”

She cast him a sideways glance as they strolled along toward the embankment. “So if you see a demon, you shoot it?”

“Mostly.”

“Seems a little harsh.”

“Most of them are low grade demons. It’s actually easier for the less powerful to slip through the gaps between worlds. They know the rules, they choose to break them, and they take the consequences. And while they have little power, they do have an enormous ability to cause havoc. And most have some exceedingly anti-social habits.”