The Order Boxed Set (79 page)

She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes while she tried to decide whether they actually believed this crap, or whether they had some other agenda.

“You have a file on my mother.”

Shock flashed across the colonel’s face, quickly smoothed away. “No wonder you’re pale. You shouldn’t have seen that.” He studied her for a moment. “Or maybe given the circumstances perhaps you needed to see it.”

“The circumstances?” she asked.

“We’re investigating a creature we believe to be a vampire. Who bites and drains his victims.”

She considered his words, turned them over in her mind, and gritted her teeth. “Are you seriously suggesting that Christian Roth murdered my mother?”

“Why are you so reluctant to see what is in front of you, child?”

Faith was furiously angry. “I’m not a fucking child.”

Taking a deep breath, she fought for control. Finally, she forced a smile. “Sorry, it’s been a long day. Let me go over what I’ve learned,” she said. “Right now, I’m tired and not seeing straight. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

“Okay, go now. Let us know if you hear anything more from Roth or his people.”

“Have you made contact with him about his wife yet?”

The colonel gave a small, tight smile. “Don’t worry about that; we have it under control.”

Why didn’t that make her feel any better? Guilt gnawed at her insides. Always before she’d known she was on the right side, working for the good guys to lock away the bad guys. Everything had been so straightforward.

Now she looked at these two bland, smiling faces and had no clue what was right or wrong, good or evil.

Rising to her feet, she wiped her hands down the side of her pants and nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, good night, Faith.”

…

Adams was on duty at his usual place when she left the building. He scrutinized her closely, his gaze resting on her shoulder where she’d taken his bullet.

“Hey, no hard feelings.”

“None,” she lied.

She almost sagged with relief as she walked through the door into the bright sunshine of the late afternoon. She glanced back and saw Adams had stepped outside and was still watching her.

Bastard
.

He clearly didn’t trust her, or maybe he didn’t understand how he’d shot her through the shoulder yesterday and today, she seemed fine. She was a little hazy on that one herself.

Carl had told her that someone would be waiting. She searched the area for a possible subject as a black SUV drew up beside her. As she peered inside, she recognized the driver and her heart rate picked up.

Chapter Twelve

Warmth stole through her. Faith couldn’t believe how much she had needed to see Ash. His presence made her feel safer as though somehow she might get through this whole mess.

“Hi,” she said as she climbed in.

He pulled straight out into the traffic and turned to study her. She couldn’t see his eyes as he wore dark glasses, but lines of tension bracketed his mouth and his hands gripped the wheel so tight his knuckles showed white.

He looked almost as bad as she felt.

“How are you?” he asked. “You look…”

“Tired,” she supplied for him.

“Yeah, tired. I didn’t realize you meant to go into work this morning. You should have stayed home.”

“It would have driven me crazy doing nothing. And I felt fine. I still feel fine, just a little run-down. What about you? What have you been up to?”

“I’ve been out trying to get some word on Tara. I spent the night working with Christian, and then I’ve been chasing up people all day. But so far nothing. It’s like she’s vanished.”

“How is Christian?”

“Not good. I always thought Piers was the unstable one out of the two of them, but I think if we don’t get Tara back soon, Christian is going to lose it. And you don’t want to be around if that happens.”

“Where is he now?”

“Getting some sleep. But I’m meeting up with him later and we’ll carry on.”

“And what about you? Don’t you need to sleep?”

He didn’t look tired. Tense and on edge maybe, but not tired.

He glanced from the road and a small smile curved his lips. “No. I don’t need much sleep. I picked up some food. I thought I’d take you home and we could eat. Try and forget for an hour.”

He was back in his badass gear. Maybe it was more likely to impress the sort of people he was talking to. Black leather pants and a black T-shirt that hugged his figure and showed the edges of the intricate tattoo twined around his upper arm. She wanted to reach out and trace the lines with her fingertip.

“Is Piers Lamont helping?” she asked.

“No, he’s taken Roz away.”

“Why? Do you think she’s in danger as well?”

“We think Tara was taken by mistake. We know there’s someone hunting for Roz, but it’s possible they don’t know much about her and Tara was taken instead.”

“Why would someone want Roz?”

“It’s complicated. I told you she has certain…powers. Well, there are some people who don’t like that and want to get rid of her.”

“Rid, as in kill?”

“Yeah. I hope they realize that they have the wrong woman.”

Guilt jabbed at her again. She wanted to comfort him, tell him that Tara was alive, and in safe hands—sort of—but how could she do that without betraying what she knew. She felt like a complete two-faced bitch. They were searching in all the wrong places.

But if she told them what she knew, it would be the end of her career. Besides, betraying the government went against everything she had ever believed in—they were supposed to be the good guys.

They were silent for the rest of the drive. Faith rested her head against the back of her seat and stared out at the passing streets.

Ash followed her into the house carrying the food and wine he’d collected from the backseat of the car. Chinese. Her favorite, but she didn’t think she could manage to eat anything. Her stomach was churning.

A letter lay on the carpet inside the door. She picked it up. It was from the hospital—she’d almost forgotten about her other little problem. How had her life got so complicated that she had overlooked the fact that she was very likely dying and there was absolutely nothing anyone could do about it?

The letter only told her the results were ready and could she come in as soon as possible.

“Bad news?” Ash murmured from beside her.

“No, not really.” She crumpled the paper and tossed it on the table. She’d phone in the morning, see if they could fit her in. No point in worrying about it now—she was getting good at that.

In the kitchen, she turned on the oven and put the food in to warm while Ash poured them red wine.

“Okay, let’s forget everything for a while. Time out,” he said and handed her a drink.

Forgetting everything sounded like an excellent idea to her. Though she doubted that it would be that easy. For either of them. Ash paced the room, almost crackling with energy. She let him get on with it while she got plates and things from the cupboards and set them out on the small dining table.

The meal was delicious, but they picked at the food. Ash gave up, put down his fork, and sat back.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not good company tonight.”

She put her own fork down and pushed her plate away. “It’s not surprising. You’re worried about Christian and Tara.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “So tell me about you.”

“There’s not a lot to tell.”

“Tell me why you joined the police force.”

She picked up her glass and sipped for a minute. She’d never told anyone about why she had joined the police. Not really. But maybe some part of her thought that if she told him this, she would make up in some small way for all the things she was holding back.

“When I was twelve, my mother was murdered. They never caught the killer. I thought they didn’t search hard enough, and I wanted to do better, make sure that the bad guys got caught—the people like the ones who murdered my mother, murdered Julie Foster.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.”

“There are some things that change the whole course of our lives.”

“You sound as though you know what you’re talking about. What happened to you—what changed your life?”

“Finding my wife.”

“Finding her, or losing her?”

He sat back, a slight frown on his face as he considered the question. “A few months ago, I would have said losing her—for a while everything went dark. I could see nothing but my own grief. But I’ve come to see that she left me a better person than she found me.”

“What was she like?”

“She was good. Pure of heart, and that’s not easy in this world. She was beautiful. She looked a lot like—”

His phone rang. He frowned but pulled it out of his pocket and listened for a moment.

“That was Christian. He’s awake.”

Faith glanced out of the window. The sun had set while they ate. It occurred to her, briefly, to wonder what he was doing asleep at this time of day, but maybe they’d had a busy night, and her mind skittered away from examining the idea to closely.

“Christian is picking me up here, and he’ll bring your guard for the night.”

“I don’t need a guard.”

“Yes, you do. I’m not losing anyone else.”

In some ways, his words pissed her off. As though she was incapable of looking after herself. In another, they made her feel all warm and fuzzy. She’d never had anyone look out for her before. At least not since her mother.

“I’ll go with Christian,” he said. “Your guard can have my vehicle. In fact, he can stay in there. Don’t let him in the house.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s one of Carl’s guys, and they’re not housetrained. They’re a load of hot-blooded assholes. You don’t want to know them.” He rose to his feet and held out a hand to her. “Come here.”

Suddenly, she was very conscious of the thud of her heart, of the blood pulsing through her veins. She found his dark gaze wandering over her body like a caress. Her breasts ached, and heat pooled at the base of her belly.

She placed her hand in his. His palm was hard and hot as though his blood ran at a much higher temperature. He wrapped his fingers around hers and tugged her to her feet. Mere inches separated them, and she breathed in his hot, spicy scent like cinnamon and pepper.

“I want to make love to you, lose myself in your body,” he said. “But Christian will be here soon, and when it happens, I want it to be good between us.”

He reached up with his free hand and ran the ball of his thumb over her lower lip. “But perhaps a kiss to keep me going?”

Without waiting for her answer, his head lowered toward her and she raised her face to him, no thought to deny him his kiss.

She wanted this so much; her whole body ached. His words made her face how much she would love to spend the night losing herself in Ash’s embrace. She didn’t know what she felt for him, maybe it was nothing more than infatuation; he was the most beautiful man she had ever known and she felt right in his arms.

Time seemed to slow. She kept her eyes open as he brought his lips to hers because she didn’t want to miss a moment.

As his lips touched hers, all rational thought faded from her mind. He kissed her lower lip, then her upper, small, biting kisses. At last, his mouth covered hers, warm and firm and heat washed through her. His hand slipped behind her neck and he tilted her head for better access—she was tall, but he was much taller. His tongue pushed inside and she opened for him. She was conscious of nothing but the hot, wet, languid thrust of his tongue. Heat welled between her thighs, her breasts ached, and she pushed herself up against him, wanting to absorb him into her, to get some relief for the desire clawing at her body and her mind. He was rock solid, the leather smooth, and his erection nudged against her belly.

Not taking his mouth from her, he backed her against the wall, pressing into her so he was plastered against her from the hips downward. One leg slipped between hers, lifted, and rubbed against her core and still he kissed her.

A pulse throbbed between her thighs. He pulled his mouth free, buried his head against her throat, and kissed the tender point where her shoulder met her neck. With one hand, he ripped down the front of her shirt and his hot lips were pressing kisses to her breasts, nipping her nipples through the thin lace. His hand slid down between them, over her stomach, to push beneath the waistband of her pants.

She went still, her lashes drifting closed, her breathing fast, as she waited for him to touch her. His fingers flirted with the curls before gliding lower. If he stopped, she would die. She felt out of control as though she might fly into a thousand pieces. His hand cupped her sex and she groaned.

He raised his head. “Look at me.”

Her eyes flickered open, and she stared into his hot hungry face as one long finger pushed inside her. He withdrew, then found the sensitive little bud at her core. He massaged it with his fingertip and the pleasure built quickly, mounting. She bit her lower lip, not daring to move in case he stopped. Then her head fell back and she came in a starburst of pleasure.

He waited until she went still and stroked her again. This time, her knees gave out and he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the sofa.

As he lowered her to the cushions, she caught a brief glimpse of his eyes, glowing crimson. Then she blinked and the illusion was gone.

Ash pulled her into his arms so she lay with her head against his chest. He was hot beneath her cheek and she could feel the thud of his heart. As he stroked her hair, she relaxed into the feeling while the tremors ran through her body.

She could still feel his erection pressing against her. Sliding her hand down, she stroked against the bulge, but he put his palm on hers to stop her as a car horn sounded from the street outside.

“Oh God,” she muttered.

“No, not God—Christian.”

Sitting up, she ran a hand through her hair. The orgasm had released some of her tension and she felt boneless, replete, and for the first time since this whole thing had started—at peace.

Ash settled her on the cushions and rose to his feet. He stood for a moment gazing down at her. “One day, we will finish this,” he said. “I’ll take you to my home where no one will dare to interrupt us.”