Bittersweet Magic (29 page)

Besides, she hated him. He’d abandoned them. If he’d stayed and protected them, her mother would never have died that night. Roz would never have made a deal with a demon. What would her life have been like?

Her mother had always sworn that he would return for them one day. Had been convinced that he had some reason for staying away.

Maybe it was because he couldn’t stand the sight of a daughter with her mixed blood. But she could remember him vaguely. He’d loved her, she would have sworn to that.

Nothing made sense.

Except one thing.

Asmodai was a bastard.

He’d known who she was and hadn’t told her. And he’d planned to hand her over to the man who had tried to murder his own niece because she had mixed blood. She’d believed Asmodai had come to care for her over the years. But he would do this to her? Hand her over to what would likely be her death?

She got up on slightly shaky legs and strode toward him.

He stood as she approached, a puzzled frown replacing the amusement.

Bunching her fist at her side, she drew back her arm, and punched him as hard as she could. Too late, she realized it was the same hand she’d used to punch Jack, and her knuckles were already bruised. “Ow.”

He reached up and touched his lip. “What the hell was that for?”

“You bastard,” she said. “Have you known this all along?”

“I knew you were half-fae, but I only discovered who your father was recently when we met again.”

“And you were going to hand me over to him?”

“I considered it more as an introduction.”

“An introduction to the man who nearly killed his own niece because she had mixed blood.”

He raised a brow as though he hadn’t made the connection. “Even the Walker wouldn’t kill his own child.”

“You reckon?” Suddenly all her grievances against him welled up inside her. “And another thing. You lied to me.”

The amusement was back. “I did?”

“You told me everyone would want me dead. When really it’s just…” She hesitated, hating to put it into words. “Just my father.”

“Actually, I doubt he’ll kill you,” Christian said.

“Really?” How she wished she believed that. “And why is that?”

“He desired Tara’s death because she had demon blood as well as fae. And you said your father stayed with you until you were around six—that hardly sounds like the actions of a man who hates you.”

“So why did he leave, why abandon us like that?”

“My guess is, he got caught up in one of the demon wars, probably couldn’t get back. From what you told us, the timing would have been right. We’ll find out at the meeting.”

It seemed inconceivable—she had a father. He was real. Suddenly, she was filled with the urge to see him, ask him why he had left them. Face him with the consequences of those actions. “You’re having a meeting with him?”

“We’ll have to,” Christian said. “We have to warn the fae that Andarta has the Key. I’ve already sent a message that we need to meet.”

“I’m going with you to the meeting.”

“Actually, you’re not going anywhere near that bastard,” Piers said.

Roz whirled around to face him. “Don’t you start thinking you can order me around,” she snapped. “I’ve had enough of that from him.” She jabbed a finger in Asmodai’s direction. “I want this over and I want this gone.” She waved her arm with the sigil in his general direction.

“You still have one more task to do.”

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about that, and I don’t agree.”

“You don’t?”

“If I remember, the task was to find the Key. I found it. Now get this thing off me.”

He pursed his lips. “I’ll think about it.”

“Do it.”

He smiled. “You are so sexy when you’re angry. I’m tempted to keep you just for the entertainment value.”

Piers strode up to stand beside her. He also jabbed a finger in the demon’s chest. “You ever touch her again, and I’ll rip you limb from limb.”

“You’d fight for her?” Asmodai sounded intrigued by the idea.

Piers snarled, flashing one sharp white fang, and the humanity bled from his eyes, leaving him pure monster. She wasn’t impressed—well, maybe just a little bit.

“Yeah,” Piers growled, “and you know what—I’d win.”

“Maybe here, but—”

Roz stamped her foot, and they both turned to look at her. “No one is fighting for me. You.” She pointed at Asmodai. “Stop winding him up. And you.” She turned her attention to Piers. “Just remember if anyone kills him, it’s going to be me. Which might happen very soon if this mark does not disappear by the time I count to ten.”

Chapter Nineteen

Roz held her breath as she counted.

As she hit nine, Asmodai pursed his lips and gave a casual shrug. And just like that, it was gone. Before her eyes, the sigil faded from her skin. After five hundred years of enslavement, she was free. She could go anywhere, do anything, live her life without the fear that the demon would ask her for something she wasn’t willing to give.

A smile tugged at her lips as a sense of lightness filled her. She launched herself at Piers, wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and hugged him tight. His arms came around her and pulled her close. When she tugged free, he was smiling down at her.

“Wow!” she said. “I’m free.”

“I wasn’t that bad.” Asmodai’s tone was vaguely offended, laced with amusement. He gave her a sly smile, his gaze shifting to Piers. “We had some good times, didn’t we?”

She sniffed. “I really don’t remember.”

“Get that slimy grin off your face or you won’t be having any more times with anybody,” Piers said. “Good or otherwise.”

Asmodai laughed, but then the laughter faded from his face. “You do know there is a chance we won’t stop Andarta. With the Key, she can go anywhere, anytime, and take a whole army with her.”

That sounded bad.

“Does she have an army?” Christian asked.

“I don’t know—she never had any problem getting followers.”

“Well why don’t you bugger off and go find out?” Piers said.

Asmodai thought for a moment. His gaze flickered to Tara and away again when she gave no sign of responding. “Okay. And I’ll see if I can’t find out where she’s hiding.”

“Good. Off you go then.”

Asmodai stepped closer. He took Roz’s hand and ignoring Piers’ dark stare, raised it to his lips, and kissed her palm. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Rosamund. We will meet again.”

And he was gone.

“We’re off as well,” Christian said. “We’ll arrange the meeting for as soon as we can.”

Piers grimaced. “I’ll look forward to it.”

Tara came over and kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t worry about the Walker. He won’t harm you. We won’t let him.”

That wasn’t the point really. Roz didn’t want a father she had to be protected from. Better none at all than that. But she gave Tara her best smile, which seemed to do the trick. Tara kissed her again, squeezed her hand, and backed away to where Christian waited.

As the door closed after them, Roz dropped to the chair behind her. It was sinking in after the initial euphoria—she was free. She rubbed her arm where the sigil had been, almost expecting to see it come back.

“So what’s happening?” Ryan asked, dragging her from her preoccupation with a non-existent mark. She’d almost forgotten Ryan was there. “Can I go as well? Or is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Apart from her and Piers, only Ryan and Carl remained. She reckoned Carl was keeping an eye on the detective.

Piers leaned back on the edge of the desk, arms folded, and studied him. To give Ryan his due, he never flinched, just faced the vampire squarely.

“Well, we have a few options.” Piers grinned. “The easiest is—we kill you.”

“Call me cautious,” Ryan replied, “but I think I’ll hear the rest before I go for that one. I’m presuming that there will be something that will appeal a little bit more.”

“Maybe. We can wipe your mind and send you home, and you’ll have no memory of us or this place or what happened here.”

“Marginally better, but I’m not sure I like the idea of you doing anything with my mind.”

“It won’t hurt, and it won’t do any permanent damage.”

“Nah, still don’t like it. You got anything else on offer?”

Piers smiled, revealing the tip of one white fang. Roz got the impression it wasn’t meant as a reassuring smile, more of a let’s-see-how-tough-this-cop-is sort of smile. “You can come and work for us.”

“He can?” Roz asked.

“I can? And do I want to?”

“Well the money is good, and you get to see a lot of action.”

“Why? I mean why take me on? I get the impression you guys don’t have a very high opinion of us mere humans.”

“Hey, we keep you safe from the big bad monsters.”

“Yeah, but I’m thinking that’s a by-product of what you’re really doing, and if you keep us safe it’s more in the way of protecting your food supply than through any… niceness.”

“You don’t think I’m nice?”

“Shit no.”

That’s why she liked Ryan so much. He told the truth. Piers didn’t seem bothered. She guessed he didn’t really think of himself as nice anyway. He certainly didn’t look nice. He looked…hot.

“The truth is,” he continued, cutting off her distracting thoughts, “one day soon, we’re going to have to come out to the world. It’s only a matter of time, and we have to start working toward that.”

“And how do I come into this?”

“We’ve been discussing it, and we’d like to start liaising with government organizations, security forces—get a feel for the best way to move forward, and we’d prefer some actual humans involved in that process.”

“Again—why?”

Piers flashed her an annoyed glance. “Is he always this inquisitive?”

“Yup. It’s what makes him a good detective.”

“Mr. Lamont, if you’re recruiting for someone to be on your side against my own people, you’re looking at the wrong man.”

Piers pushed himself up and paced the room a couple of times. Roz guessed he was deciding how much to tell Ryan—but what did it matter if they could just wipe all the information away? Then she realized that perhaps he wanted to persuade Ryan to work with them rather than resort to coercion and threats.

“We might seem human, but never presume we are. We don’t think the same way. There are some within our…community who would like nothing better than to remove the threat you humans pose by enslaving you all.”

“I don’t think it would be that easy.”

“No? Well, let’s hope you’re never proven wrong. In the meantime, there are others of us who would prefer not to go that route, and we’re looking for any help we can get. So Detective Ryan, would you like to come and work for us and help save mankind from the coming revelations that the monsters are real?”

“Can I think about this?”

“Until you decide to leave.”

“So let me get this straight: you can kill me, you can mind-fuck me, or I can come and work for you. And I don’t leave the building until I pick one of those options?”

“Yes.”

Ryan turned to her, but Roz didn’t want to influence him in any way, so she kept her expression neutral.

He ran a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m knackered. I’m going to check up on Maria, and then I’m going to sleep. I’d appreciate it if someone could show me to a bed.”

“I’ll take you,” Carl said.

Ryan looked the man up and down. It wasn’t possible to tell that Carl wasn’t human, but he gave off an energy that was almost palpable.

“And just what are you?” Ryan asked. “How do you fit in with this lot? I don’t see any fangs.”

“I’m a werewolf,” Carl replied.

“Yeah, of course you are.” He turned to Roz and she nodded slowly. “Shit. I’m going to bed.”

He stomped from the room. Carl shrugged and followed him, leaving her alone with Piers.

“There’re two hours until dawn—you want to go for a walk?” he asked.

Suddenly, she was filled with a longing to be outside, to revel in her newfound freedom. “Yes, please.” Taking her hand, he led her from the room to the elevator and pressed the ground level. The doors opened straight on to an alley that ran alongside the building. They were silent for long minutes. The night was warm, and they headed toward the river.

They reached the river without saying a word and walked along the embankment, the salty smell of the water mingling with the fumes left over from the day. It reminded her of the other night when they had walked here. But everything had changed. A sense of peace stole over her. It was hard to believe that there were other beings, other dimensions. They had existed all these years while she had lived in ignorance. But that was what slavery was, keeping people in ignorance of their options.

Somewhere out there, she had a father. Had he abandoned them? Or had he somehow been prevented from coming to their aid? She wanted desperately to believe the latter, but at the same time, she was scared to let herself hope. She’d hated him for so long for letting them down.

And somewhere else, Andarta was plotting the downfall of the human race, and a few other races if she had her way. Roz shivered in the warm air.

“Are you okay?” Piers asked, squeezing her hand.

She halted, tugged free, and leaned against the wall staring out over the dark water. “Yeah, I reckon. Just a little overwhelmed.” She sighed. “I’ve got a dad, and he’s a bastard, and you hate him.”

“He doesn’t like me much either.”

“Great, just great.”

“Hey, but no worries. Andarta might just get us all first, and you’ll never have to meet him.”

“There’s something to aim for.”

Piers moved up behind her, resting his hands on the wall on either side of her head. Her back pressed lightly against his front, but he didn’t touch her anywhere else, and they stood in companionable silence. Only hours earlier, she had been facing certain death at her own hands. Now, the world seemed full of possibilities, which was strange when you considered that very soon they might all be dead. But maybe it was better to die free than to live a slave.

How different the world looked when you were five hundred to when you were seventeen. She had no wish to die. Whatever she had with Piers—it was too new to put a name on—she wanted to explore. And he felt something too. He could have left her to die, and the problem of Andarta and the Key would have been gone. Instead, he’d saved her. He hadn’t asked for anything in return, and no one had ever done anything close to that for her since her mother died. She was all sorts of warm and fuzzy. It probably wouldn’t last, but she’d make the most of it.