Bittersweet Magic to-2

by Nina Croft

  “I shouldn’t.”

  “She’s dying, Ryan.”

  “Stand back.”

  He raised his foot and kicked out. And again. The door gave on the second kick, with a splintering of wood. Roz pushed past him and into a carpeted hallway. After concentrating for a second, she ran straight ahead. She hardly noticed Ryan switching on the lights as she hurried through a door at the end of the hall and into the kitchen. Directly opposite was another door, bolted from the outside, the bolts shiny and new. She slid them back and hesitated for a second.

  The door opened into a narrow stairway that led down into the cellars, and she ran quickly down the steps. There were two doors at the bottom facing each other. The first led into a small room, empty but for a cot bed. She shut the door and turned to the other. This one was bolted, and she knew she’d found Jessica. She sensed Ryan at her back, but he didn’t speak. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. The smell hit her first—blood and fear. The room was in darkness, and she groped for the switch, finding it on the wall just outside the door.

  The room was identical to the one opposite: small, the only furniture a narrow cot bed. But this room wasn’t empty. A young woman lay on the bed, asleep or more likely unconscious, her naked body curled tight into a fetal ball, arms wrapped around her knees.

  “Jessica?”

  There was no response, and Roz hurried across the small space between them. Ryan entered behind her, but she focused on the girl on the bed. The dying girl—her life force flickering, fragile and weak.

  “Is she dead?” Ryan asked.

  “No, alive—just.”

  “I’ll call for an ambulance.”

  She glanced around quickly. “Not yet, Ryan. Give me a moment.”

  “Why? You’ve found her. You’ve done your part. Let us take over now.”

  “I can help her. She’s dying, Ryan. There’s no time. Just trust me.”

  He ran his hand through his messy hair, then nodded brusquely. “Do what you have to do.”

  Roz perched on the side of the filthy mattress and rested her hand on Jessica’s forehead. Her skin was clammy and cool to the touch. Stroking back the long hair, she looked into the face she now knew so well. The eyes remained closed.

  Placing her hands on both sides of the girl’s forehead, she closed her eyes and allowed her own life-force to flow into her. At first, she hit a brick wall.

  “Come on, Jessica, you have to want this,” she muttered under her breath. She heard Ryan shift behind her but ignored him. Focusing all her power, she visualized it as a narrow arrow, and thrust it into the other girl. This time the healing energy flowed freely.

  “Shit,” Ryan said, and Roz’s eyes flashed open.

  Where her hands touched the girl, they glowed with a warm pulsing luminescence. She could sense Jessica absorbing the energy, her life force strengthening with each second. Finally, her lids flickered open.

  “It’s okay, we’re here to help you,” Roz said quickly as Jessica’s panic flared.

  The girl peered around her, her gaze catching on Ryan, and fear darkened her eyes.

  “He’s a policeman,” Roz said. “He’s here to get you out, take you home.”

  “The man, the…” Jessica cut off the words. “Is he gone?”

  “He’s gone.”

  “What did you do to me?”

  “Yeah,” Ryan said from behind her. “What did you do to her?”

  “Just woke you up.”

  “You brought me back. I was so close. I wanted to go. I knew if I stayed he’d be back.”

  “Well, he won’t, and you’re not going to die. I won’t let you.”

  Jessica reached out a trembling hand and touched her lightly on the cheek. “Who are you? What are you?”

  “Good question,” Ryan muttered.

  “I’m Roz,” she said, ignoring the “what are you,” which she had no clue how to answer anyway.

  As Roz rose to her feet, Jessica seemed to realize that she was naked. She sat up and hugged her knees to her chest, peered around the room as if searching for something.

  Ryan was wearing a short leather jacket over a blue shirt. He stripped off the jacket, then the shirt, and handed it to Jessica. “Here,” he said, pulling the jacket back on over his bare chest.

  Roz whistled. “Nice look.”

  Ryan had pulled his radio from his belt. “I’ll call the rest of the team in. We need to search this place. Obviously the fucker is gone, but we might get a lead. And we’ll get you to a hospital, though you don’t look as though you need it.”

  “I feel fine,” Jessica replied. “I want to go home.”

  “Soon.”

  “Ryan, wait a moment.” Roz’s mind was working furiously. Ever since she’d entered the house, she’d sensed another presence. Not a person, but a thing. The Key. She was a Seeker—a name Asmodai had used to describe her. She found things. That’s what she did. And she was good at it. Now, she knew the thing she had been seeking in the convent was here somewhere, hidden by magic. Her magic was stronger, but once Ryan’s team came in, she would have no chance.

  “I need five minutes,” she said.

  He frowned. “What for?”

  “It doesn’t matter, but believe me, it’s important.” Her freedom was at stake here. Excitement built inside her. She had another chance. The sigil on her arm itched as though aware its time was nearly up. Ryan still appeared doubtful, and she spoke quickly. “Jessica will be fine; just give me my five minutes or I swear, I will never help you again. I will disappear, and next time you’ll be on your own.”

  He studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowed. “Okay. Five minutes.”

  She closed her eyes and concentrated. It wasn’t in this room, and she strode quickly across the floor and out into the narrow stairwell. The other room. That was where the vampire had slept. The door had bolts and a brand new padlock on the inside as though he’d locked himself in.

  Standing in the center of the room, she turned slowly—and found it. The Key was calling to her. Stretching out her inner senses, she felt for its hiding place. Without conscious thought, she allowed her feet to move.

  Although she was drained from using her healing powers, she still broke through the spell with ease.

  “Easy-peasy,” she muttered.

  Her fingers felt along the edge of the bare bricks. One was loose and she tugged at it, broke a nail, and swore. Then the brick was free. Reaching into the gap, her fingers wrapped around a small package. Magic pulsed through her hand, along her arm, down her spine. Magic stronger and older than anything she had ever sensed in her life before.

  She pulled the package out. Small enough to lie in the palm of her hand, and wrapped in dark red velvet. Slowly, she peeled back the material and revealed… a key.

  Well, what had she expected?

  “What did you find?” Ryan’s words made her jump and she wrapped her fist around the Key. “Nothing.”

  “Yeah, right, of course it’s nothing. If you’re withholding evidence that would help us find this guy…”

  “I’m not, and it won’t.” She turned to face him.

  “I’m breaking about a thousand rules here—”

  “Come on, Ryan, you broke them when you asked me to help, when you gave me that file. Don’t start following the fucking rules when you no longer need me. Because you know what—it will piss me off.”

  A smile flickered across his face. “You’re right. And the truth is that without you we wouldn’t have found her. Not alive, anyway—we had nothing. So…” He shrugged. “Hell, I have no clue how you found her. I have even less clue what went on in there just now—but you saved her life.” He ran his fingers through his already mussed hair, suddenly looking exhausted. “You done? Can I please call in my team now?” But as he spoke, his radio buzzed, and he picked it up and listened for a moment. “You sure it’s him?” He listened for a moment longer then lowered the radio. “They’ve spotted the suspect,” he said. “He’s f
ive minutes away and he’s apparently already got a couple of tails—and they’re not ours.”

  “Crap,” Roz muttered. At a guess, that was Piers or someone else from the Order following him. She had to get out of there. She couldn’t let the Order see her here. “What are you going to do?”

  “We’re getting the girl out. She’s strong enough to travel in the van. We don’t want her here if things go bad. I suggest you go with her. I don’t like this. We have no clue who else is out there, and I’d prefer you to be under police protection.”

  “Sweet offer, but no thanks. I’m allergic to the police, and I can protect myself.” But could she? This time she wasn’t so sure. This was the dreaded Order of the Shadow Accords she was up against. Still, she was certain the police wouldn’t be able to do a better job. She glanced down at the small velvet bundle clasped in her hand—the Key to her freedom.

  There was a good chance Piers was in the vicinity, no doubt with back up. He could even be watching the place right now if he’d traced where Jack was staying. If he saw her here and out of her nun’s outfit, he’d never believe it was a coincidence. He’d take her in to the Order, and she’d lose her prize so fast. She bit her lip. She’d prefer to keep hold of the Key, but until she got it to Asmodai, the deal wasn’t completed. There was no way to contact Asmodai directly; she had to go through Shera, and that could take time.

  It would be too dangerous to hide the Key here—the house would doubtless be searched, and not only by the police. And she couldn’t take it outside in case she was caught.

  What to do?

  She glanced at Ryan, and he raised an eyebrow in query.

  While she was reluctant to involve him, she reckoned there was zero chance of anyone dragging Ryan back to the Order for a full body search. The Key would be safe with him for a short while, and he would be safe with the Key. “Will you do me a favor?” she asked.

  “Maybe.”

  She almost smiled at the wariness in his tone. “It won’t hurt—promise.” She held out the small package. “Will you keep this safe for me? It will probably—hopefully—only be for a few hours. Then I’ll come and get it.”

  “What is it?”

  “Just a key.”

  “A key to what?”

  “I have no clue. It doesn’t belong to me. A…friend asked me to find it for him. It’s what I do—I find things. I just have to get in touch with him and arrange to hand it over. But I’d prefer it if no one knows I have it.”

  He studied her for a moment, genuine concern in his eyes. “Are you in some sort of trouble?”

  She grinned. “No more than usual.”

  “Okay. Give it here.”

  She handed him the Key and watched as he put it in the inside pocket of his jacket and zipped it up safely. “Right, I’m out of here,” she said. “Will you tell your guys I’m coming out?”

  He nodded, and she turned and headed for the stairs. At the door, she paused. “Ryan, if anyone does come asking about that key—hand it over. It’s not worth fighting for.” That was a lie, but it was her fight, not Ryan’s, and she’d hate him to come to harm over this.

  Without waiting for a reply, she hurried up the stairs. At the front door, she peered out. The black van was still opposite. As she stood there, four men and a woman climbed down. It was time to leave.

  She sauntered down the path as though she had no worries in the world. One of the men held open the gate for her, but no one spoke as she passed through. She presumed Ryan must have told them she wasn’t to be bothered.

  Once past them, she picked up her pace and hurried down the road, expecting every second to be stopped. She took the first side road, in order to get out of sight and avoid bumping into either Jack or Piers, and then stopped and turned around.

  The night was warm, and the scent of summer flowers drifted up from the gardens. She felt almost at peace. Hopefully she could contact Shera and set the meeting up sooner rather than later. She could get the Key back from Ryan, hand it over, and she’d be free.

  Afterwards, she’d disappear. A momentary pang of regret hit her. She wasn’t sure what for, until an image of Piers Lamont rose up in her mind. Gorgeous and sexy and…probably wanting to kill her.

  It was for the best.

  She stood in the side road and watched as they led Jessica out and into the black van. It drove away, and she waited to see if anything else would go down, but the road remained quiet. She guessed Jack had picked up that something was wrong and changed his mind about coming home. Or whoever had been tailing him had finished him off. That would be nice, but way too convenient—things were never that tidy. But at least it meant that there would be a delay, hopefully a considerable one, before Jack discovered that his Key was missing. And by then, it would be safely in Asmodai’s hands, and she would be off somewhere warm and sunny with no demon to tell her what to do.

  After half an hour, she decided the coast was probably clear, and she could head for home. She sauntered back toward the river. The streets were quiet, and she felt quite content as she strolled along. Jessica was safe, and she couldn’t believe what a weight that was off her mind. Just a little bit to offset all the bad things she’d done. Maybe she’d become a philanthropist, dedicate herself to doing good. Hey, she might even become a nun. She chuckled to herself, but the truth was she could become anything she desired. The world was her oyster, or her playground or…

  She came out of her little daydream, to find herself confronted by two figures. For a second her heart stuttered; then she looked closer and realized they were nothing but young punks. Probably after her valuables, or her body.

  They weren’t getting either.

  One of them smirked at her. He couldn’t have been more that seventeen. What was the youth of today coming to?

  She let her eyes drift down over them, very unimpressed. When she reached their faces, they were frowning as though she wasn’t behaving as anticipated. Well, what did they expect? She’d seen far worse than them already today—hell, she’d been bitten by a vampire only this morning. A couple of skinny punks weren’t going to spoil her mood.

  “Hand us your cash,” the taller one said.

  She smiled sweetly. “Just a moment.” Reaching behind her, she pulled the hunting knife from the sheath at the small of her back. It was a huge blade, the edge serrated, and she wrapped her fingers around the hilt and held it in front of her.

  They took one look at the blade glinting in the streetlights and bolted.

  Roz chuckled as she strolled on. The world was good.

  Chapter Seven

  Christian handed him a glass of scotch and sat in the seat behind the desk, sipping his own drink. “Isn’t it about time you told me what this thing he stole from the convent actually is?”

  Piers rested his head against the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling while he decided just how much of his murky beginnings to reveal. He’d never told anyone at the Order of his life before he was changed. He gulped his drink in one go and held out his glass, then changed his mind and put it down on the table in front of him. “Hand me the bottle, and I might.”

  Christian raised an eyebrow, but leaned across and handed him the bottle of scotch. Piers unscrewed the top and took a long drag. He sighed. “It’s a key.”

  “A key to what?”

  “It opens portals between worlds.”

  “Which portals?”

  “All of them.”

  Christian stood up abruptly and held out his hand for the bottle. Piers grinned and handed it to him.

  “How come I’ve never heard of it?” Christian asked.

  “Probably because it’s a relic from a long time ago—from before the Shadow Accords. It was supposed to have been destroyed when the Accords were drawn up—before you were even born.”

  “But it wasn’t?”

  “Well, obviously not.”

  “Why?”

  Piers shrugged. “I wasn’t involved in the Accords when they were set up�
�I wasn’t particularly interested in bringing order to the world back then.”

  “Really? You surprise me.”

  Piers ignored the sarcasm. “But I did hear that the Key was to be destroyed. Most people weren’t keen on the idea—the Key is one of the ancient artifacts of power—but the fae insisted. Have I mention how much I dislike the fae? Arrogant bastards said that while the Key existed, there was always the risk that their enemies could enter the Faelands.”

  “So what happened?”

  “At a guess, someone must have hidden it instead.”

  He thought for a moment, remembering back—it was more than a thousand years ago and as he’d said, he hadn’t been particularly interested in the brand new Order of the Shadow Accords and whatever crap they decided. But he had known of the Key. Andarta had been negotiating for it before they had had their little falling out. The Key had been an integral part in her plot for world domination—the crazy bitch.

  Demons varied in their powers. Andarta was strong, but she had a weak point—her inability to open portals with ease. The effort drained her. That had been the one thing that kept her in check, limited her movements. With the Key, she would be unstoppable.

  Something occurred to him. Something he’d forgotten. All those years ago, she’d been negotiating with another demon. He shook his head. “Do you know who had the Key back then? You’re going to love this.”

  “Why do I doubt that?”

  “None other than Tara’s father—your brand new father-in-law.”

  “Asmodai?”

  “Yeah. Shit, could he be involved in this?” Piers ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of the separate threads.

  Christian shrugged. “So Asmodai was in possession of the Key when the Shadow Accords were drawn up. He agreed to destroy it, but instead he hid it away.”

  “No doubt, just in case he ever needed it.”

  “And he hid it away in the convent that your friend Jack attacked a couple of nights ago.”

  “He’s no friend of mine.”

  Christian had been pacing. Now he stopped in front of Piers and studied him. Piers stared back. “So what is Jack to you?” Christian asked. “There’s something that ties the two of you together.”