Bittersweet Magic to-2

by Nina Croft

  Piers considered not answering—it was no one’s business but his. Then he realized that was no longer the case, and maybe it was something Christian needed to know. “He’s my maker.”

  Shock flared on Christian’s face. “So he’s even older than you are?”

  “Yeah. But he’s been…sort of out of it for the last couple of thousand years, so I’m not sure how strong he is.”

  There were strong vampires and weak ones, and their strength also tended to increase with age. But maybe that age didn’t count if you’d been locked in a tomb.

  “What does ‘out of it’ mean?”

  “Locked away, no doubt sleeping like an innocent babe for the majority of the time.”

  “You did that?”

  “Yeah. You could say that I wasn’t too pleased about the change in my circumstances. In fact, it pissed me off. And you might have noticed, when things piss me off I tend to react.”

  “So you were stronger than him, which means he shouldn’t be a problem. Just get him out of the picture. You have enough justification with him bringing the police down on us.”

  “Well, I could do that, but it’s not actually Jack we need worry about.”

  Christian sighed. “Who is it?”

  “Andarta.”

  “Andarta?” The shock was back with a vengeance. Andarta hadn’t been around for two thousand years but obviously, Christian had heard of her. Why didn’t that surprise him?

  “Andarta, the goddess of war and pestilence, the demon queen?”

  Piers nodded, and Christian was silent for a minute while he digested the information. “The Andarta who’s been missing for the last two thousand years?”

  “That’s the one. Tucked up with Jack.”

  The Andarta he’d once believed he loved beyond life itself. The goddess he’d been willing to lay down that very life for. Until she had betrayed him, ordered Jack to turn him, and made that particular sacrifice impossible.

  “How the hell did you manage that?” Christian asked.

  “I pretended to be happy about the whole thing, lulled them into an entirely false sense of security, and drugged them both. They were locked up tight in their cozy little tomb, warded by Andarta’s own magic, by the time they woke up.”

  “Clever,” Christian said.

  “Maybe. But maybe it would have been cleverer to finish them off while I had the chance. I somehow doubt she’ll be accepting any more glasses of drugged wine from me.” He rubbed his scalp. He hated rehashing the past. But then it was no longer the past—enough to give anyone a headache.

  “Enough of Andarta. Right now, I’m hungry.” He pressed the comm unit on his desk. “Graham, get me the London address of the mother house of the Sisters of…” Shit, he couldn’t remember. “Whatever it was they were sisters of.” He could hear the tap of Graham’s fingers on the keyboard.

  “There is no mother house in London,” he said a few seconds later.

  “What?”

  “The mother house is in Devon.”

  “Really?”

  “What is it?” Christian asked.

  “It appears our little nun was telling a few untruths.”

  “Why?”

  “How the hell should I know? But I aim to find out. Graham—find her.”

  …

  By the time Roz reached home, it was after two in the morning. The apartment was quiet and in darkness, but Maria popped her head out of her bedroom as Roz collapsed on the sofa.

  “Is everything okay?” Maria asked.

  “Fine.” She grinned. “In fact, everything is great.” Though it occurred to her that she was going to have to break the news that she was leaving soon and it was time for Sister Maria to return to the convent. Tomorrow would be soon enough for that.

  “You look tired,” Maria said. “Would you like me to make some coffee?”

  What she really craved was her bed, but she needed to contact Shera first—set things in motion. And also check the bug. See what was going down at the Order. Whether they had heard about Jessica being found, and whether it mattered to them. “Yeah, I’d love a coffee.”

  Grabbing her laptop, she sat cross-legged on the sofa waiting for it to power up. After sending an email to Shera, she opened the program, and a whole load of conversation filled the screen.

  She read it quickly, knowing she would go back and read more slowly, but right now, she was fascinated. In the last couple of days, she’d learned more about the supernatural world than in the previous five centuries. But when she got to the mention of Asmodai, she stopped and reread. She could feel her eyes going round in amazement.

  Asmodai was Christian Roth’s father-in-law.

  The idea was staggering. That meant Asmodai had a daughter? Somehow, she couldn’t imagine it. Did he love her? He had certainly never mentioned her in all the time Roz had known him.

  She continued reading. Until she got to the end, and shock closed down her mind for long seconds.

  “Holy shit. Bugger. Crap.”

  Maria placed a mug of coffee on the table in front of her, and the movement brought Roz back to herself. She blinked and slammed the laptop closed.

  “What is it?” Maria asked.

  “We have to get out of here.”

  “Why? What’s happened?”

  “Nothing…yet. But we have to leave. Now.”

  A fist pounded on the door.

  Too late.

  Roz glanced from Maria to the door, her mind working furiously. What to do? Go hide under the bed and pretend they weren’t here? Or let them in and plead ignorance?

  Much as she liked the hiding under the bed option, she wasn’t sure they would take the hint and go away. No, she’d have to call their bluff. She peered down at herself and for the first time ever, wished she were wearing the habit. Did she have time to put it on?

  The knock came again, louder. More insistent.

  “Just a minute,” she shouted toward the door. “Maria, get in your room and don’t come out unless I say.”

  “What is it? Are they back? Is it the man from the convent?”

  “No. I think it’s the people we met in London. They’ve probably just got a few more questions for us. It’s nothing to worry about. I’ll deal with it.”

  Christ, she was a good liar.

  But Maria’s face cleared of the panic, and she nodded. As she disappeared into her bedroom, Roz ran for her own, stripping off her clothes as she went. She dragged the dreaded habit out of the bin—again—and tugged it on over her panties and bra—no time for nun-like underwear. They were banging at the door again—no time for the headdress either—but then she wasn’t likely to have been wearing that in bed anyway. This would have to do. She still had her heeled boots on as well, but as long as they didn’t peek under her habit, no one should notice. And no one was going to peek under her habit. Were they?

  She ran a hand through her hair and gave herself a quick glance in the mirror on her way out. Shit, she was wearing makeup—what sort of nun wore make-up to bed? Maybe they wouldn’t notice. Maybe they didn’t know anything about nuns. Except Asmodai had said Piers had had a thing for nuns. The pervert.

  Taking a deep breath, she walked slowly to the door. When she opened it, Piers had his hand raised to bang again.

  She faked a yawn, covering her face with her hand. “Mr. Lamont? It’s the middle of the night. What are you doing here?”

  He stared down at her. A long way down—why did he have to be so tall? Or rather, why did she have to be so short? His eyes narrowed as he examined her small, bristling figure.

  “What?” she said belligerently. She took another deep breath—belligerence was not going to help right now. “How can I help you?” she said, her tone conciliatory.

  “Sister Rosa, have we caught you at a bad time?” It wasn’t Piers, but the man behind him who spoke, his tone tinged with amusement. It was Christian Roth, Asmodai’s son-in-law. She hadn’t noticed him until that point. And behind him two more men,
both huge, bursting with muscle, and dressed in black leather. They’d brought a goddamn army, for two little nuns.

  “Yes,” she snapped. “I don’t suppose you’d consider going away. Perhaps you could come back in the morning.” Yeah right, like that was going to happen. The blood-suckers would be tucked up in their coffins by then.

  Piers stepped to the door but hesitated, a frown forming on his face. “Invite me in,” he growled.

  For a brief moment, she considered ignoring the request. Weren’t vampires supposed to be unable to enter a home without an invitation? But she had no proof that the two other men were even vampires—there would be nothing to stop them breaking down her door, and she didn’t want things to get nasty. She’d bluffed her way out of bad situations before. She could do it again. Maybe.

  “Come in,” she said grudgingly and stepped aside.

  Piers strode by her, followed by Christian, who gave her a grin as he passed—she was glad someone was finding this amusing. But the expression settled her nerves a little. The two other men stayed out in the hallway. She followed Piers into the living room and studied him while he looked around.

  “Go check if there’s anyone else here,” he said to Christian.

  Christian nodded and started opening the doors to the other rooms. She had her back to him but she knew when he reached Maria’s because there was a little squeak. Quite restrained, really.

  Roz whirled around as Christian appeared in the doorway, his hand around Maria’s upper arm as he ushered her into the living area.

  “Roz, what’s happening?” Maria sounded close to panic.

  “Hey, leave her alone,” Roz said. “She’s a goddamn nun.”

  Piers’ eyes narrowed on her. “Is she?” His gaze left her to drift down over Roz in her habit. She glanced down and realized that half the buttons were undone, revealing the black lace of her bra. She pulled the edges together and glared at him even as the heat flushed through her. Was he still hungry? She felt a twinge of pleasure in her belly at the memory of what he’d done to her. How it had made her feel.

  “And what about you, Sister Rosa?” he murmured. “Or is it Roz?”

  She pursed her lips. “What about me? I may be having a brief crisis of faith right now, but Maria’s the real thing, so leave her alone.”

  Christian released her.

  “Go sit on the sofa,” Roz said. “These…gentlemen will be gone in a few minutes.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Piers muttered.

  She strolled across the room and picked up her mug of coffee, took a sip, tried to appear nonchalant. “So what brings you here? Barging in on two poor defenseless women in the middle of the night.”

  “I want to know why you lied.”

  “About what?”

  “You told us you were going to the mother house.”

  “So? Is that a crime? We are going to the mother house… tomorrow. It’s in Devon, and we were too tired. They keep this apartment for any of the sisters who have to stay in London.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She didn’t blame him; it was a pathetic story.

  “You might as well tell us now. We have ways of making you talk.”

  Roz rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe you just said that. That is so corny.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s also true. Why don’t you sit down with your friend over there and we’ll be with you in a minute.”

  Roz plunked herself down on the sofa and glared as Piers and Christian started a methodical search of the place. She was so glad she had given Ryan the Key.

  Maria’s hand slid into hers, and she clutched tight at her fingers. Roz gave her a reassuring squeeze and tried to think what her next move should be. At least she’d contacted Shera—so Asmodai would hopefully guess she had his Key. If he believed that, he might make some effort to get her out of the Order’s clutches before they found out what she was and killed her.

  Could they find out? A flicker of excitement burst into life deep inside her. What was she? Piers had said she had fae blood—but what did that mean? Maybe he would tell her before he killed her. Despite the danger, she felt as though she was on the edge of something wildly exhilarating.

  Piers had vanished into her bedroom. Christ, was he searching in there? She was trying not to think about what he might find when he appeared at the door, a smirk on his face, her vibrator clutched in his hand. For a second, she closed her eyes. Unfortunately, when she opened them, he was still there.

  “Now what would a nun do with this?” he asked.

  “One of the sisters must have left it. The spirit is strong but the flesh is often weak, Mr. Lamont. We shouldn’t judge others.”

  “And why was your hat in the bin?”

  Her horrible headdress was dangling from his other hand. “I must have dropped it in my hurry to answer the door.” She kept her tone serene, but it was an effort, and he didn’t look convinced.

  Her eyes narrowed as he put the vibrator into the inside pocket of his jacket and tossed the headdress back in the bin before disappearing into her bedroom. A second later, he emerged waving the file on Jessica Thomas, and she swore under her breath.

  “Where did you get this?” he asked, flipping through the file.

  She shrugged. “It was already here. One of the other—”

  “Sisters must have left it,” Piers finished for her. “Why do I find that hard to believe, Sister Roz?”

  “I have no idea, Mr. Lamont.”

  Christian came back at that moment. “Nothing in here.”

  “Okay, we’ll take them back to the Order, question them there. I don’t think it will take much to get them to talk.”

  Maria whimpered, and Roz glared at him. “We’re not going anywhere with you. Just leave and we’ll come in the morning and tell you everything.”

  “I don’t believe you,” he said, repeating his earlier words, and Roz glowered.

  Christian came to stand in front of her. “No harm will come to either of you at the Order, Sister. You have my word.”

  Staring into his grey eyes, she found no guile, no secret agenda, and she was pretty certain she could trust him. Her glance flicked to Piers. He was scowling at Christian, but he didn’t counteract the promise. “Okay.” She turned to Maria. “Come on, we have to go with them, Maria. But we’ll be safe.”

  Maria’s huge eyes blinked up at her, but she nodded, took a deep breath, and rose to her feet. “God will protect us.”

  Piers snorted in obvious amusement.

  “No,” Roz replied, “but Christian Roth will. He won’t go back on his word.” She glanced at Christian. “Can I take my things?”

  He shrugged. “Why not?”

  Roz grabbed her bag and shoved in her cell phone. She considered the laptop for a moment. There was a risk that they might take it from her and find the bugging program. In the end, she decided that the chance of hearing something useful outweighed the risk, and she slipped it into the bag. “Let’s get this over with, and maybe we can come back and get some sleep.”

  Christian headed for the door, but when Roz made to follow, Piers stopped her with a hand on her arm. A shiver ran through her body from the point of contact. “Wait,” he said.

  Christian was at the door, but he turned as Piers spoke.

  “Take Sister Maria down,” Piers said. “We’ll catch you up.”

  Christian frowned. “Piers?” She heard the warning in his tone.

  Piers just grinned. “She’s not at the Order yet, and I’m still hungry. You know how I get ratty when I’m hungry.”

  Christian looked for a moment longer then shrugged. “Don’t take too long and make sure she remembers nothing.”

  “Of course.”

  Roz watched them disappear. Sister Maria gave her one last look, and Roz tried to smile reassuringly before the door closed behind them. She stood, biting her lip, before she forced herself to turn back to the vampire.

  God, he was hot. The leather pants mol
ded to his long legs and lean hips. The black T-shirt to his broad shoulders beneath the leather trench coat. She forced her gaze upward to meet his wicked blue eyes and the muscles in her belly clenched.

  “Come here, Sister.”

  Oh shit, he was doing that mesmerizing thing. He was going to bite her again. Why did her traitorous body tighten at the thought? Oh God, she wanted this. Her feet edged towards him almost as if she was in thrall. When she stood close enough to touch, he reached out and stroked a finger down her throat, hooked in the neckline of her robe, and ripped downward. The robe gave way, showering tiny buttons across the floor, and she had to force herself not to react.

  Think “mesmerized,” she told herself and blinked a few times.

  He parted the material. “Nice,” he murmured as he slipped his hands inside and cupped her breasts in the black lace. He rubbed over her nipples, and pleasure shot to her groin, turning her instantly hot and wet.

  “Is the vibrator yours?” he asked. “I’d like to see that sometime. But right now, we don’t have the time.”

  Turning her in his arms, he pulled her back against the long length of his body and she felt the inhuman strength of him. With his hands still on her breasts, he lowered his head and nuzzled her throat.

  She peered down as his long fingers tugged at her nipples. Her legs went weak. As she sagged, one arm wrapped around her waist to hold her upright, then his fangs grazed her throat just before he sank them deep into her flesh. His free hand glided down over her belly while he sucked her blood. It shouldn’t have felt so good. But it did.

  As he got into a rhythm, the tug of his lips mirrored the throbbing pulse between her thighs. She heard a whimpering and knew it came from her throat but couldn’t prevent it. She was so close. His fingers slid beneath the lace of her panties, through the curls, and found the sweetest spot. As soon as he lightly touched the swollen bud she came in a rush so intense, she screamed. He held her easily, massaging her clit as he drank, and the pleasure washed over her in waves.

  She realized through a fog of pleasure that he’d stopped drinking, and his hand was gone from between her legs. She hung limp in his arms as he licked the side of her neck, kissed her once, and turned her in his arms.