Bittersweet Magic to-2

by Nina Croft

  And now she was going to die a goddamn hero.

  Hurray.

  Well, sort of. She wasn’t completely resigned. There were other things she still wanted to do. Like get Piers Lamont naked and screw his brains out.

  Where the hell had that thought come from?

  But it refused to be dismissed. He’d be gorgeous, all long, lean muscle. And she’d felt him pressed against her—she was betting he was big. Probably huge. Her mouth went dry, and the muscles cramped in her belly at the thought.

  She really shouldn’t torment herself this way. But then again—why not?

  It was presumably her last night alive. Why shouldn’t she spend it making mad, passionate love with the vampire?

  And she had to keep herself safe from Asmodai until tomorrow night. She couldn’t have him coming after her now, before she had done what she needed to do. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t follow her to the Order. She’d be safe there.

  Well, as safe as you could be if your intention was to seduce a vampire.

  She grinned, pulled out her cell phone, and hit speed dial.

  “Any chance of someone picking me up?”

  …

  Piers stared at the phone. She’d hung up on him. Just given him the location and hung up. She’d sounded almost as tired as he was, though there had been something else in her voice, something he couldn’t identify.

  What was she doing at a hospital? Was she hurt? He couldn’t believe the panic that had rushed over him when she mentioned the word hospital. She hadn’t said she was injured in any way, but then she hadn’t said much at all. At least she had called though. After the team lost her, it had occurred to him that she might just vanish; he would never see her again and he’d hated that. He’d been on edge all night.

  He considered sending Graham to pick her up. He should really get back to work—try to find some trace of Andarta—but in the end, he decided to go himself. Because strangely, he wanted to see her, make sure she was safe. Protect her. Maybe even fight her demons.

  And he needed the fresh air. He was exhausted and vaguely depressed. Since the call with Jack, he’d been working with Christian and Jonas, trying to locate where Andarta was hiding out. Jonas reckoned her magic was stronger than anything he could produce and so far, they’d found no trace of her. He also had Carl out hunting for Jack, but so far—ditto—no trace.

  They needed to find the Key. Who could have taken it? Who else knew, other than Roz? She was the obvious suspect, and it was time she opened up a little and told him what was going on.

  So how did he get her to understand that she wasn’t alone anymore? Maybe he should back off on the sex, let her see that he’d like to be her friend as well as her lover, talk with her, show her that she could trust him…

  Since when had he sought friendship from a woman? Yeah, it was official—he was going soft. But he could do it. He’d never been good at waiting, but he reckoned Roz would be worth it.

  It was past one in the morning and the roads were quiet. He drove along the embankment and then away from the river. When he pulled into the car park, he saw her straight away. She was sitting on the pavement, beside a black SUV, her head resting on her knees.

  She peered up as he halted the car beside her, and his eyes narrowed. She’d been in some sort of a fight, her lower lip swollen and her right cheek grazed. He had a sudden urge to find whoever had done it and tear them apart. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down and think rationally.

  He leaned across and pushed open the passenger door. She stood up slowly, as though something hurt but not too badly. She was dressed as she had been for their walk last night, in tight jeans, low on her hips, and a black sleeveless vest stretched over her full breasts. The vest stopped short of the jeans, leaving a strip of skin bare at her mid-riff. It also showed off the demon’s sigil.

  “You all right?” he asked as she climbed in, her movements stiff.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You look like you’ve been in a fight.”

  She managed a weak grin. “You should see the other guy.”

  “So what are you doing here?”

  For a moment, she didn’t seem to understand the question, then she glanced at the building behind them. “The hospital? Oh, it wasn’t for me. I was just visiting a friend.”

  “And where’s your other friend, Sister Maria?”

  She shrugged. “She decided to return to the mother house, in Devon. I was helping her sort out a car and driver.”

  “She couldn’t wait until morning?”

  “She didn’t want to. It’s been a hard few days for her. She needed to be among friends.”

  That sort of made sense. It didn’t explain why they’d had to give his men the slip. If she’d just asked, he would have arranged for a car and driver. It pissed him off that she hadn’t come to him for help. It also didn’t explain who she had been fighting with and why. And he had a feeling she wasn’t going to tell him.

  “Do you have the Key?” he asked.

  “No.”

  Well that was definite. He decided to leave it for now. She’d rested her head back, and her eyes were closed. In the dim glow of the streetlights, she appeared exhausted.

  “Quit staring,” she muttered, and he forced his gaze back to the road.

  As he pulled up in the underground garage beneath the Order, he had a feeling she was going to bolt. But instead, she turned to him as he switched off the engine, and smiled.

  “You fancy a drink?” she asked.

  For a moment, he thought he’d misheard. “A drink?”

  She curved her lips into a smile. “I’m a bit strung out. It’s been a rough night. I just need to relax, and I don’t usually drink alone.”

  He was pretty sure that was a lie.

  “Please, Piers,” she murmured. “Come keep me company. I’m not going to be able to sleep, and it seems a pity to waste the night.” She rested a hand on his arm, and he tensed beneath the touch. She was coming on to him. But why?

  More to the point, why did he care?

  Just take what was offered. But some inner voice whispered, why now?

  All the same, he might as well go along with this, see where she was heading. He studied her as the elevator carried them upward. There was something different in her face. She caught him staring and smiled serenely, and his senses went on alert. That was it. She appeared at peace. Serene was not a word he would have used to describe her. When she wasn’t acting, she was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. But there was no conflict in her dark brown eyes now. And it came to him.

  She’d given up. He’d seen it before. What he saw in her was acceptance. Whatever conflicts she had been battling with she had resolved. But what had she given up and why?

  And why the hell wouldn’t she just talk to him? Tell him what her problems were and he could sort them out, make everything better. His temper rose as the elevator came to a halt, and the doors opened straight into the penthouse.

  “I’m going to clean up,” she said. “Why don’t you get the drinks? Mine’s a scotch.”

  “Of course it is.”

  She disappeared into the bathroom, and he heard the water running. He thought about following her, but in the end, he crossed the room to the cabinet and poured them both a hefty shot of scotch. He swallowed his down, feeling the warmth hit his stomach.

  He was hungry. He usually didn’t have to feed all that often—the older the vampire, the less frequency he or she needed to feed. And as vampires went, he was old. But he’d been using a lot of energy, and there was something about Roz that made his gums ache.

  He remembered the taste of her, so sweet, and the heat in his belly dropped lower, pooling in his groin. His cock stirred in his pants, and he shifted uncomfortably.

  He wanted nothing more than to sink his fangs into her pretty throat while he thrust his cock into her willing body. And something told him she was after the same thing. The thought cooled his blood.


  Why? Was he such an asshole that he had to be the one doing the running?

  Maybe.

  But he didn’t think that was it. With anyone else, he would have taken what was on offer. But he’d decided he needed to back off with Roz and now—

  “I wish I had something more suitable to wear.”

  He whirled around at the sound of her voice. She stood in the doorway, dressed in nothing but a fluffy white towel, which left bare the tops of her breasts and the length of her legs.

  “More suitable for what?”

  He knew he sounded surly, and a frown flickered across her face.

  “What’s the matter with you?” she asked.

  He should have known she’d take the direct approach. “Nothing.” Definitely surly.

  She bit her lip and crossed the room to stand in front of him, holding out her hand. “Drink?” she said when he remained motionless.

  He handed her the glass and watched as she lifted it to her mouth, swallowed in one gulp, then held out the glass for more. She licked her lips, and his groin tightened almost painfully. “Can I have some more?” Her voice was a low, husky drawl. “Please.”

  He reached behind him for the bottle and poured her another.

  As she sipped it, she watched him over the rim of the glass. She should have looked a mess—her lip was swollen and a bruise was forming on her cheek—but she didn’t. She looked totally desirable and that just pissed him off more. What the hell was wrong with him?

  “What happened tonight?” he asked.

  This time the frown stayed. “Nothing that need interest you.”

  “Oh, but I am interested.”

  “Well, it’s really none of your goddamn business.” The words were sweetly spoken but had a certain finality to them.

  Turning away, she tucked the ends of the towel in more firmly before heading for the sofa. She reclined in the corner, curling her legs beneath her and gazing at him from beneath her thick lashes. She even fluttered them a couple of times.

  Beneath that towel, she was naked. He knew it. The thought was driving him wild.

  “Why don’t you come and sit down?” She patted the cream leather beside her.

  Why didn’t he?

  When he didn’t move, she shook her head. “Why are you being so difficult?”

  “Why are you coming on so strong?”

  “What? You don’t like a woman to take control?”

  “I do.”

  “Just not me?”

  “I want to understand why the change. Yesterday, you told me to piss off. And now, tonight, for some reason, you want to use me.”

  “Use you?” Her tone was incredulous. And really, he couldn’t blame her. Was he crazy? Why didn’t he just take what was offered and enjoy?

  Because he wanted more than what she was offering. Maybe even more than friends.

  He was being an idiot. He forced the idea from his mind. After all, what else was there? He’d never aspired to anything else. He took the three steps to the couch and sat down next to her, but he couldn’t get rid of the feeling that something wasn’t right. He sat staring straight ahead and heard her sigh beside him.

  “You know, I somehow assumed this was going to be easier,” she muttered.

  He knew it. She’d intended to seduce him all along. This wasn’t some spontaneous gesture when she’d suddenly realized that she couldn’t resist him. She’d planned it from when he had picked her up. Hell, probably before that, when she’d phoned him. He was probably just a convenient male body she could let off some steam with. Like a toy. Like her vibrator. It didn’t matter who he was.

  A movement beside him cut off the thought. She’d put down her drink and now she turned quickly on the seat, throwing one leg over his knee so she faced him, straddling his thighs.

  She sank down so she rested on his throbbing shaft, and he had to bite back a groan. Reaching between them, she loosened the knot on the towel and parted the material, baring the length of her body. Then she leaned in close and kissed the corner of his mouth.

  He couldn’t resist, and he didn’t move as she shifted even closer and slanted her mouth over his. For long minutes, he drowned in the kiss, trying to close off the questions that kept buzzing at his brain. Her tongue pushed inside his mouth as she deepened the kiss. He could feel the softness of her breasts against his chest, her nipples hard little points pressing insistently against him.

  She rocked her hips, rubbing against his cock, and it felt indescribably good. But not good enough.

  He glanced up and caught sight of the triumph on her face.

  “Why?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Why what?”

  “Why me? Why now?”

  “But Piers, you told me if I required relief I had to come to you.”

  And at the time, she’d told him to piss off. What had changed? Why couldn’t he leave it alone, just take what she was offering? Instead, he put his hands to her hips and lifted her off him, placing her gently on the sofa before passing her the towel, which had completely fallen off.

  She clutched it in her lap, not bothering to try and cover herself. Her eyes were almost black, and she glared up at him. “So you don’t want me?”

  “No.” God, that was about the biggest lie he’d ever told, but he realized while he desired her, he wanted to know what was going on more than he wanted a quick shag...Which was a first.

  “Really? I somehow find that hard to believe, considering the bulge I can see in your pants.”

  “Maybe I do want you. But I also want to understand why you’re coming on so strong.”

  “Does it somehow injure your male pride for me to take the lead?” Her lip curled up in a sneer of scorn. “You know, you’re not still living in the Dark Ages. Things have moved on. Women are allowed to make the first move these days.”

  He knew that, and he had no objection. Usually.

  “Or maybe you’re scared you’ll be a huge disappointment after all the big talk.”

  She nearly had him with that one. But he held his ground. She needed to talk to him. Tell him what she was feeling.

  That brought him up short.

  Since when had he been concerned about “feelings”? Obviously, this whole Andarta thing was getting to him. Andarta had been the only woman he had ever loved. But what did love have to do with anything?

  He glanced at Roz and realized he wanted more than this from her. He didn’t know what, but definitely more.

  When he didn’t answer, mainly because he was speechless, shut down by his own wayward thoughts, she rose jerkily to her feet. The towel fell to the floor, and she stalked completely naked to the front door.

  Yanking it open, she stood to the side and gestured to the hallway beyond. She was gorgeous. For a moment, he admired her. Maybe she wasn’t today’s idea of what was beautiful, but to him she was perfection. He was insane. Totally fucking insane.

  “Out,” she snapped.

  He crossed the room but paused at the door. “Will you be all right?”

  She stared at him as though the question made no sense. Then her expression cleared, and she smiled sweetly. “Yes, I’ll be all right. Because guess what? Thanks to you, I’ve got my vibrator, so I don’t need some dick who can’t make up his mind whether he wants me or not. Maybe the hot-cold thing works with some women but not with me.”

  There wasn’t a lot he could say to that—at least not that would make sense. So he walked out the door.

  It slammed behind him, and he heard something smash against the wood. He was betting it wasn’t the scotch.

  He ran a hand through his hair. What was the matter with him? He could be in there now, lodged deep inside her, drinking her down, feeling her come apart beneath him. Or on top of him or…Whatever she believed, he liked women who knew what they wanted and weren’t shy about asking for it.

  No, it wasn’t the fact that she was pursuing him that bothered him. It was why she was doing it. There was an edge of desperation to her ac
tions, and he wanted to understand her.

  He was still hard, and his balls ached for some sort of relief. But it was late. Dawn came early at this time of year, and when he made love with Roz, he wanted the time to enjoy it. Tomorrow night would be soon enough. Maybe if she had the day to think about why he’d acted this way, she would come up with the right answer. And maybe she might even share it with him.

  On the other hand, if she didn’t, he reckoned it was only fair to let her seduce him. Otherwise, she might get a complex. Start thinking she was undesirable. No, tomorrow night, he would give in.

  …

  Roz stared at the closed door.

  Well, that hadn’t gone as planned.

  She glanced down at herself. She was naked and hadn’t even noticed. Where the hell was that stupid towel?

  It wasn’t that he hadn’t desired her. She had felt him, full and hard, beneath her. Tasted the need in his kiss.

  She realized how much she had relied on this to keep her from thinking. To blank her mind of the future, or rather the lack of a future. She’d decided what she was going to do. And she wouldn’t back down.

  But she was afraid. In truth, she didn’t wish to die now any more than she had five hundred years ago.

  It was just that now she had learned there was a price to pay to hold on to that life. And this time the price was too high.

  But she’d needed someone to hold her. More than that, she’d wanted Piers to hold her, to make love to her, to make her feel she was not alone through the last hours of this last night.

  But the truth was, she was alone. As she had always been alone.

  She went to the bedroom and crawled into bed, dragged the pillow into her arms, and hugged it tight. For the first time since her mother had died, she curled up in a ball and cried.

  Chapter Fourteen