Bittersweet Magic (25 page)

She watched as they hurried away along the embankment, then closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Turning, she surveyed the small group. On to phase two.

Ryan and Maria needed a few more minutes to get clear of the area. She shoved her hands in her pockets, tried to appear cool, and strolled over to where Andarta stood beside Jack. The lesser demons formed a semi-circle around them, but as she drew closer, they shifted to form a ring, which circled her inside them.

She halted just in front of Andarta and looked up. Why the hell was everyone taller than she was? “I want in,” she said.

“In?”

“To be part of what you’re doing. I want a place in your new world.”

“And why would
we
want
you
?”

“You saw a little of what I can do, and I’m also a Seeker. I can be of help to you.”

“Hmm, you have power, that’s true. You healed those two with no effort whatsoever. But the problem is, I don’t trust you. I don’t understand you—why give over something as valuable as the Key for a couple of humans who’ll be dead in a few years anyway?”

She shrugged. “I’m loyal to my friends. I could be a good friend.”

“And you seek to be friends with me? Why?”

“I need your help.”

“In doing what?”

Roz unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it down off her shoulder to reveal the sigil wrapped around her upper arm. “I’m enslaved to a demon, and I’d prefer to be free.”

Andarta pursed her lips. “A powerful demon, but I think we can get rid of that with a little effort. Now show me the Key.”

Roz reached into her pocket. She peered over her shoulder; Maria and Ryan had vanished. They’d be safe by now.

Phase three.

The part she really wasn’t looking forward to.

…

“Well, we can be pretty sure she’s somewhere close by,” Christian said.

“What?” Piers had been thinking about what he was going to do to Roz once he found her. He had a few options; it was which one would come first he couldn’t decide upon. Christian was driving, but now he slowed the vehicle and pulled up at the side of the road. Through the side-mirror, Piers could see the black van with Carl and his men pull in behind them.

He glanced up ahead as Christian gestured toward the couple who were heading their way. Sister Maria he recognized immediately even without the habit, but the tall man beside her, helping her along, he didn’t know.

They saw them at that moment and came to an abrupt stop about fifteen meters away. Piers climbed out of the car. Sister Maria obviously recognized him. She spoke quickly to the man and hurried up to them.

Piers examined her closely; she had a bite mark on the side of her neck, her skin was pale, but otherwise she appeared unharmed. The man had an impressive set of bruises that were healing fast, fading as Piers stared.

“Mr. Lamont—” Sister Maria began.

“Where’s Roz?” he interrupted her.

“We need to call the police, get back-up,” the man beside her said. “I’m Detective Ryan of the Metropolitan police.”

Piers turned to him. “Do you really think the police can help here, detective? Now where is Rosamund?”

The detective opened his mouth, no doubt to argue, but they didn’t have time for this. Christian stepped forward. “We have to get Roz first. Afterward, we can call the police, if they’re needed. I can assure you we’re better equipped for this than the police. You’ve seen what we’re up against.”

The detective studied the group. Christian stood beside him at the front, Carl with four of his werewolves behind, and Jonas looking frail and old in the middle. The magic had exhausted him, but he’d insisted on coming, and Piers hadn’t tried to dissuade him. The warlock might come in useful, and this was to some extent his fault. He claimed he couldn’t reverse the spell, but it was still better he was here in case magic was required.

“Go get her,” Maria said. “She’s by the bridge. She gave us time to get away, but they’ll kill her—or worse.”

Piers didn’t believe there was anything worse than killing her. Death was final. But he didn’t bother explaining that to the sister. Religious types tended to have some weird ideas on the subject of dying, though he suspected Sister Maria’s beliefs might have undergone a radical turnaround in the last few days. He looked a little closer and saw that she was holding the ripped pieces of her shirt together at the front. He removed his coat and handed it to her, revealing the firepower beneath.

“Hope you’ve got licenses for those,” Ryan said. “Though come to think about it, I don’t think it’s possible to get licenses for sawed-off shotguns.”

Piers didn’t bother replying. He glanced around. The night appeared quiet, but he preferred not to involve any more humans in this. Time to get it over with.

“How many with her?” he asked.

Ryan answered. “A guy called Jack, a whole load of these monster things, and a woman—I don’t know her name; she just turned up tonight.”

“A blond woman?”

“Yeah, with these weird marks on her face.”

“Shit.” Andarta. She must be getting stronger.

He could feel something building up inside him and realized with a flash of shock that it was panic. Jack and a whole bunch of lesser demons they could deal with, no problem. Andarta was another matter entirely.

“Come on.” He had a feeling time was running out. “Carl, your guys take on the lesser demons. Christian, you take Jack.”

“And you?”

“I’m going to save Roz, then go after Andarta.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Chapter Sixteen

This was it.

The end.

A fine sheen of sweat formed on her forehead. Any minute now, it would roll down her face and probably drip off the end of her nose. What a weird last thought.

She tugged the Key out of her pocket, and the metal snagged almost as though it didn’t want to come. But it did—no magical reprieve there. Was she still hoping for a happy ending? She’d believed she’d given up on them long ago.

She dangled the Key in front of her. Jack reached for it, and she edged away. “Wait, I have to remove the spell first. Otherwise…poof.”

He cast her a dirty glance, but he did step back. No one wanted to go “poof.” Andarta was watching her, her face expressionless, but at least she didn’t appear suspicious.

“So you’ll take me with you, let me be part of this?”

“Of course. I said so, didn’t I?” Andarta sounded just a mite irritated.

“So you did.”

And of course, demons never lie.

She dug into her other pocket and pulled out a pin; she needed blood. Then she had to speak some words. For a second, her mind went blank. Crap, she couldn’t remember the words.

Panic threatened to envelop her mind, drag her down, and swallow her up. Under her breath, she muttered a calming mantra and slowly her brain cleared.

She could see the words in her head, crystal clear. Raising the pin, she looked around her one last time. And stopped. The pin poised in mid-air.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

A group was running down the embankment toward them. Piers led the way and it was his words that hung on the night air. Did he know what she meant to do? Well, he was too late.

“It’s not too late.”

The guy was a fucking mind-reader.

“Roz, you don’t have to do this.” He came to a halt meters away, weapons drawn. “Trust me.”

Oh, God, she wished she could.

“Piers?” Andarta spoke softly from beside her, but Roz couldn’t drag her eyes from Piers.

“Come on, Roz, put the pin down— you don’t have to die.”

But somehow she couldn’t seem to move. Her arm locked in place, the Key gripped tight in her fingers, so she could feel the cold metal against the burning heat of her skin.

“Die?” Andarta spoke into the silence. She darted forward. “Lying bitch,” she snarled. “You meant to kill us all?”

She grabbed for the Key. Roz tried to hold on, but the woman had inhuman strength—probably because she wasn’t human—and the Key was ripped from her fingers. Andarta leapt for the open portal. Roz made to follow; she could still work the spell if she could catch the demon.

“Get back,” Piers yelled.

If she followed Andarta now, there was a chance. But she thought for a microsecond too long. Andarta vanished into the portal and it closed behind her. At the same time, someone grabbed Roz from behind, digging hard fingers into the flesh of her upper arms. As she struggled, the hold tightened, so she went still in his grasp and was drawn back against a hard body.

Jack leaned in close to her, so she felt his cool breath against her throat, and she braced herself for his bite.

It didn’t come. Instead, he whispered into her ear. “So you want to come with us, do you?”

“Er, no. Actually, I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll stay. And as your girlfriend seems to have abandoned you, I’m thinking—so will you.”

“She’ll be back. As soon as the Key is safe.”

“Really? I doubt you mean that much to her.”

“Maybe not. But she’ll want you dead. And so do I. I preferred your friend—you’re a little mouthy for my tastes—but I’ll make do.” Putting his face close to her skin, he sniffed. “And you do smell sweet.” He turned her so she once again faced Piers. “Back off and lower the weapons. Or she dies now.” He leaned a little closer and whispered just to her. “Instead of later.”

The coolness of a blade pressed against her throat. Roz held herself very still.

Piers lowered the shotgun he carried and stepped back. “Let her go, Jack.”

“Now, why would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t fucking let her go, I’ll rip you limb from limb. If you do, I might just let you live.”

“Like I believe that. No way.”

“Look, you’re stuck here—I’m guessing you don’t have the power to open another portal. So come on, Jack, I give you my word. Let her go, and I’ll let you live.”

Piers might let him live, but Roz certainly wouldn’t. She had plans for Jack—painful plans.

“Why would you do that? What does she mean to you?” Jack paused and Roz could almost hear his brain working. “Shit. You love her.”

Piers ignored the comment and quite rightly—it was a ludicrous idea. “The Order offered her protection,” he said.

Well, what had she expected? A declaration of true love? Never going to happen.

“Christ, you do—you’ve got the hots for her. Andarta is going to love this.”

Roz’s mind was working furiously. Could she break free? Maybe elbow him in the side? She shifted her arm to see if there was any leeway in the hold, but his grip tightened.

“Stop wriggling, bitch, or I’ll knife you right here.”

“That would be a bit stupid—you’d lose the only thing that’s keeping you alive right now.”

His fingers dug in cruelly. Had she hit a sore spot? Did Jack not like being called stupid? Maybe she could get him mad enough to do something even more idiotic. She’d always been good at getting people mad. “But from what I’ve seen so far, intelligence isn’t one of your stronger points. Maybe you’re useful for beating up little girls and nuns but not much use in the brains department.”

“Shut up,” he snarled. Then he gave a short, triumphant laugh. The air straight ahead shimmered, and a new portal opened.

“Shit,” Roz muttered. Andarta hadn’t abandoned him after all, though there was no sign of the demoness. Jack started dragging her toward the black gaping hole. She so did not want to go there.

Behind her, she heard the click of guns being drawn.

“Don’t shoot,” Piers said. “You might hit Roz.”

Aw, maybe he did care after all.

She started struggling. What the hell if she got hurt? It was better than ending up down in the Abyss, and she wouldn’t let herself be used as some sort of hostage. Not that she really considered anyone would give up much for her. But it was a nice dream.

She’d rather die now than end up down there. But she was pretty pissed off that they’d ruined her plan. She’d been going to die doing some good—destroying the Key and ending the wicked Andarta’s dastardly plot for world domination.

Now, she was just going to die.

Shit. Crap. Bugger.

She struggled some more, and felt the blade slice into her skin. Not deep enough to do serious damage, but it stung. And he didn’t slow down.

They were almost on the edge now. If she peered over, she would see the shadows waiting to pull her in, swallow her. So instead, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Piers standing, gun hanging from his hand, raw frustration etched on his gorgeous face.

“We’ll get you back,” he shouted. “Just stay alive. We’ll come after you.”

Yeah, right. Great advice
. Though she had a suspicion that a few hours—maybe even a few minutes—in Jack’s company, and she might not be thinking it was such a good idea. No, she reckoned that a little time down in the Abyss with Jack and she might be thinking that death was a pleasant alternative.

They were on the edge now. All around her the lesser demons were streaming past, spilling into that break in reality, disappearing into the shadows. Then there was just her and Jack. He obviously couldn’t resist one last gloat at Piers.

“Maybe I’ll send you a little piece of her every so often, just so you know—”

His words were cut-off abruptly. Beside her, he stared up in horror. A figure swooped down from the air and kicked Jack in the face so the two of them tumbled back away from the portal. Jack’s grip loosened, and she scrambled away on all fours just as an arm wrapped around her middle and scooped her up. Then she was in the air and flying.

She held herself very still. It would be really stupid to fall now when someone had gone to the bother of saving her from a fate worse than death—and probably eventually from death as well. She couldn’t see the face of the man who gripped her hard against his chest, holding her with an easy strength, but she knew who it must be.

She was alive, and she really hadn’t believed that was going to happen. And she was flying. Actually fucking flying. She could hear the swoosh of huge wings beating the air. She threw back her head and laughed. Behind her, the demon chuckled.

They were high up above the city now, hovering and looking down; the figures were small, sticklike, the lights winding along the river, the roads, and the streets. Then they were falling. Fast, and she closed her eyes and clamped the scream in her mouth.