Bittersweet Magic to-2

by Nina Croft

  The detective studied the group. Christian stood beside him at the front, Carl with four of his werewolves behind, and Jonas looking frail and old in the middle. The magic had exhausted him, but he’d insisted on coming, and Piers hadn’t tried to dissuade him. The warlock might come in useful, and this was to some extent his fault. He claimed he couldn’t reverse the spell, but it was still better he was here in case magic was required.

  “Go get her,” Maria said. “She’s by the bridge. She gave us time to get away, but they’ll kill her—or worse.”

  Piers didn’t believe there was anything worse than killing her. Death was final. But he didn’t bother explaining that to the sister. Religious types tended to have some weird ideas on the subject of dying, though he suspected Sister Maria’s beliefs might have undergone a radical turnaround in the last few days. He looked a little closer and saw that she was holding the ripped pieces of her shirt together at the front. He removed his coat and handed it to her, revealing the firepower beneath.

  “Hope you’ve got licenses for those,” Ryan said. “Though come to think about it, I don’t think it’s possible to get licenses for sawed-off shotguns.”

  Piers didn’t bother replying. He glanced around. The night appeared quiet, but he preferred not to involve any more humans in this. Time to get it over with.

  “How many with her?” he asked.

  Ryan answered. “A guy called Jack, a whole load of these monster things, and a woman—I don’t know her name; she just turned up tonight.”

  “A blond woman?”

  “Yeah, with these weird marks on her face.”

  “Shit.” Andarta. She must be getting stronger.

  He could feel something building up inside him and realized with a flash of shock that it was panic. Jack and a whole bunch of lesser demons they could deal with, no problem. Andarta was another matter entirely.

  “Come on.” He had a feeling time was running out. “Carl, your guys take on the lesser demons. Christian, you take Jack.”

  “And you?”

  “I’m going to save Roz, then go after Andarta.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  This was it.

  The end.

  A fine sheen of sweat formed on her forehead. Any minute now, it would roll down her face and probably drip off the end of her nose. What a weird last thought.

  She tugged the Key out of her pocket, and the metal snagged almost as though it didn’t want to come. But it did—no magical reprieve there. Was she still hoping for a happy ending? She’d believed she’d given up on them long ago.

  She dangled the Key in front of her. Jack reached for it, and she edged away. “Wait, I have to remove the spell first. Otherwise…poof.”

  He cast her a dirty glance, but he did step back. No one wanted to go “poof.” Andarta was watching her, her face expressionless, but at least she didn’t appear suspicious.

  “So you’ll take me with you, let me be part of this?”

  “Of course. I said so, didn’t I?” Andarta sounded just a mite irritated.

  “So you did.”

  And of course, demons never lie.

  She dug into her other pocket and pulled out a pin; she needed blood. Then she had to speak some words. For a second, her mind went blank. Crap, she couldn’t remember the words.

  Panic threatened to envelop her mind, drag her down, and swallow her up. Under her breath, she muttered a calming mantra and slowly her brain cleared.

  She could see the words in her head, crystal clear. Raising the pin, she looked around her one last time. And stopped. The pin poised in mid-air.

  “Don’t you fucking dare.”

  A group was running down the embankment toward them. Piers led the way and it was his words that hung on the night air. Did he know what she meant to do? Well, he was too late.

  “It’s not too late.”

  The guy was a fucking mind-reader.

  “Roz, you don’t have to do this.” He came to a halt meters away, weapons drawn. “Trust me.”

  Oh, God, she wished she could.

  “Piers?” Andarta spoke softly from beside her, but Roz couldn’t drag her eyes from Piers.

  “Come on, Roz, put the pin down— you don’t have to die.”

  But somehow she couldn’t seem to move. Her arm locked in place, the Key gripped tight in her fingers, so she could feel the cold metal against the burning heat of her skin.

  “Die?” Andarta spoke into the silence. She darted forward. “Lying bitch,” she snarled. “You meant to kill us all?”

  She grabbed for the Key. Roz tried to hold on, but the woman had inhuman strength—probably because she wasn’t human—and the Key was ripped from her fingers. Andarta leapt for the open portal. Roz made to follow; she could still work the spell if she could catch the demon.

  “Get back,” Piers yelled.

  If she followed Andarta now, there was a chance. But she thought for a microsecond too long. Andarta vanished into the portal and it closed behind her. At the same time, someone grabbed Roz from behind, digging hard fingers into the flesh of her upper arms. As she struggled, the hold tightened, so she went still in his grasp and was drawn back against a hard body.

  Jack leaned in close to her, so she felt his cool breath against her throat, and she braced herself for his bite.

  It didn’t come. Instead, he whispered into her ear. “So you want to come with us, do you?”

  “Er, no. Actually, I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll stay. And as your girlfriend seems to have abandoned you, I’m thinking—so will you.”

  “She’ll be back. As soon as the Key is safe.”

  “Really? I doubt you mean that much to her.”

  “Maybe not. But she’ll want you dead. And so do I. I preferred your friend—you’re a little mouthy for my tastes—but I’ll make do.” Putting his face close to her skin, he sniffed. “And you do smell sweet.” He turned her so she once again faced Piers. “Back off and lower the weapons. Or she dies now.” He leaned a little closer and whispered just to her. “Instead of later.”

  The coolness of a blade pressed against her throat. Roz held herself very still.

  Piers lowered the shotgun he carried and stepped back. “Let her go, Jack.”

  “Now, why would I do that?”

  “Because if you don’t fucking let her go, I’ll rip you limb from limb. If you do, I might just let you live.”

  “Like I believe that. No way.”

  “Look, you’re stuck here—I’m guessing you don’t have the power to open another portal. So come on, Jack, I give you my word. Let her go, and I’ll let you live.”

  Piers might let him live, but Roz certainly wouldn’t. She had plans for Jack—painful plans.

  “Why would you do that? What does she mean to you?” Jack paused and Roz could almost hear his brain working. “Shit. You love her.”

  Piers ignored the comment and quite rightly—it was a ludicrous idea. “The Order offered her protection,” he said.

  Well, what had she expected? A declaration of true love? Never going to happen.

  “Christ, you do—you’ve got the hots for her. Andarta is going to love this.”

  Roz’s mind was working furiously. Could she break free? Maybe elbow him in the side? She shifted her arm to see if there was any leeway in the hold, but his grip tightened.

  “Stop wriggling, bitch, or I’ll knife you right here.”

  “That would be a bit stupid—you’d lose the only thing that’s keeping you alive right now.”

  His fingers dug in cruelly. Had she hit a sore spot? Did Jack not like being called stupid? Maybe she could get him mad enough to do something even more idiotic. She’d always been good at getting people mad. “But from what I’ve seen so far, intelligence isn’t one of your stronger points. Maybe you’re useful for beating up little girls and nuns but not much use in the brains department.”

  “Shut up,” he snarled. Then he gave a sho
rt, triumphant laugh. The air straight ahead shimmered, and a new portal opened.

  “Shit,” Roz muttered. Andarta hadn’t abandoned him after all, though there was no sign of the demoness. Jack started dragging her toward the black gaping hole. She so did not want to go there.

  Behind her, she heard the click of guns being drawn.

  “Don’t shoot,” Piers said. “You might hit Roz.”

  Aw, maybe he did care after all.

  She started struggling. What the hell if she got hurt? It was better than ending up down in the Abyss, and she wouldn’t let herself be used as some sort of hostage. Not that she really considered anyone would give up much for her. But it was a nice dream.

  She’d rather die now than end up down there. But she was pretty pissed off that they’d ruined her plan. She’d been going to die doing some good—destroying the Key and ending the wicked Andarta’s dastardly plot for world domination.

  Now, she was just going to die.

  Shit. Crap. Bugger.

  She struggled some more, and felt the blade slice into her skin. Not deep enough to do serious damage, but it stung. And he didn’t slow down.

  They were almost on the edge now. If she peered over, she would see the shadows waiting to pull her in, swallow her. So instead, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Piers standing, gun hanging from his hand, raw frustration etched on his gorgeous face.

  “We’ll get you back,” he shouted. “Just stay alive. We’ll come after you.”

  Yeah, right. Great advice. Though she had a suspicion that a few hours—maybe even a few minutes—in Jack’s company, and she might not be thinking it was such a good idea. No, she reckoned that a little time down in the Abyss with Jack and she might be thinking that death was a pleasant alternative.

  They were on the edge now. All around her the lesser demons were streaming past, spilling into that break in reality, disappearing into the shadows. Then there was just her and Jack. He obviously couldn’t resist one last gloat at Piers.

  “Maybe I’ll send you a little piece of her every so often, just so you know—”

  His words were cut-off abruptly. Beside her, he stared up in horror. A figure swooped down from the air and kicked Jack in the face so the two of them tumbled back away from the portal. Jack’s grip loosened, and she scrambled away on all fours just as an arm wrapped around her middle and scooped her up. Then she was in the air and flying.

  She held herself very still. It would be really stupid to fall now when someone had gone to the bother of saving her from a fate worse than death—and probably eventually from death as well. She couldn’t see the face of the man who gripped her hard against his chest, holding her with an easy strength, but she knew who it must be.

  She was alive, and she really hadn’t believed that was going to happen. And she was flying. Actually fucking flying. She could hear the swoosh of huge wings beating the air. She threw back her head and laughed. Behind her, the demon chuckled.

  They were high up above the city now, hovering and looking down; the figures were small, sticklike, the lights winding along the river, the roads, and the streets. Then they were falling. Fast, and she closed her eyes and clamped the scream in her mouth.

  He landed lightly, close to where they had taken off, and released his hold. For a second she swayed, but righted herself and turned to face her savior.

  “Damn, and I thought it was Superman, come to the rescue.”

  Asmodai grinned. “Unfortunately not. Are you disappointed?

  “Hell, no. In situations like these, I’ll take any help I can get.” She considered him for a second. “Just remember—no one asked you this time, so if you’re expecting me to find anything else for you, you can go whistle.” She shrugged. “But—thank you. I really believed I was a goner.”

  “Just protecting my property.”

  She curled her upper lip in what she hoped was a scary snarl, but the truth was, once again she had lost the Key, and she was still alive, which meant she was still indebted to the demon. But things could be worse.

  “She’s not your property.”

  The growled words came from behind. Roz whirled around to find Piers only a foot away.

  “Really?” Asmodai murmured. “And whose is she then?”

  “Er—actually, I’m no one’s property.” On the other hand, she wouldn’t mind loaning herself out to Piers for a limited amount of time. Just until she got rid of the inconvenient itch. And got her Key back. And maybe worked out just why she found him so fascinating. She looked up to find him staring at her, his gaze intent.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” he said.

  She glanced from him to Asmodai. The demon had a knowing smirk on his face.

  “In case you’re interested—nothing happened last night.”

  He quirked a brow but very sensibly said nothing. She decided to get off the subject and searched the area. “What happened to Jack?”

  “Carl has him.”

  She found him at that moment, in the center of a small knot of huge men. She recognized Carl, the werewolf, still looking boringly human. Would he shift if she asked nicely? Maybe now wasn’t the right time.

  “What are you going to do with him?” she asked.

  “He’s no use to us. What do you think we should do with him?”

  She thought about Jessica, who had suffered at his hands. Of the first girl he had kidnapped, who hadn’t survived and had no doubt died in terror, alone in the darkness. Of all the others he had taken and would take again if he were freed. She’d come to see the line between good and evil as blurred, but some people were firmly on one side or the other, and Jack was evil. Then she thought about Sister Maria and black hatred rose up inside her. “Kill him.”

  Piers studied her for a moment. “For you, my sweet, anything.”

  She watched as he strode across. He spoke quietly to Carl, who released Jack and stepped aside, leaving the vampire standing alone.

  Piers drew the sawed-off shotgun from the holster. He didn’t speak to the other man, didn’t gloat, just raised the gun, and blasted Jack through his heart. The vampire collapsed to the ground. Piers holstered the weapon and leaned down over the body. He gripped Jack’s head between his hands, rested one booted foot on his ruined chest, and twisted.

  Jack’s head came free of his neck with what seemed a very loud crack followed by a disgusting slurping sound. With the head still gripped in his fists, Piers carried it to the portal and tossed it down. Two of the other men dragged the body and it followed the head.

  Piers strolled back to them. “Close it,” he said to Asmodai.

  Asmodai waved a hand in the general direction of the portal, and the doorway vanished.

  “I’ve been hankering to do that for a long, long time,” Piers said, wiping his hands down his leather pants.

  “Is that how you kill a vampire?” Roz asked.

  “Heart and head,” he said. “You think you might ever use the information?”

  “You never know.”

  “We’ve got to get out of here before the police arrive,” Christian said. He turned to Asmodai. “Are you coming?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Besides, I’d like to keep an eye on my investment.”

  Did he mean her? Of course he did. But right now, she just couldn’t get worked up.

  She was alive. Jack was dead.

  And Piers was sorry about last night. Well, she’d have to wait and see just how sorry he was and just how he meant to make it up to her.

  Very sorry, she hoped.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Piers was silent on his way back to the vehicles, but he walked close beside her, and she could sense his occasional sideways glance. She was unsure of his mood, though some strong emotion was rolling off him in waves.

  Two vehicles were parked around the corner, a black van and a SUV. As they drew closer, she could make out Maria and Ryan sitting in the front seat of the van, and relief rushed through her.

/>   Ryan saw them and jumped out, running toward her. He wrapped his arms around her in a big hug, and for a few seconds she relaxed against him, glad they were all alive and in one piece.

  “Hey, you’re alive.”

  “I am, and virtually untouched.” Though she could still feel the sting of the knife wound at her throat. “Are you two okay?”

  “Yeah, we’ll be fine.” He stepped back but still held her loosely. “Thanks to you.”

  She shrugged. “It was nothing.”

  “Don’t lie. You could have just left us, but you didn’t.”

  She shrugged again. She wasn’t good at accepting thanks; they made her twitchy. Sensing Piers tensing beside her, she glanced sideways at him. He was staring at the point where Ryan still held her, and his upper lip was curling into a snarl. She shifted and stepped back, freeing herself. “Come on, we have to go.”

  “Actually, I have to get back to work,” Ryan said.

  “Will there be people looking for you?” Christian asked.

  “Not yet—yesterday was my day off, and I didn’t have any plans, except sleeping.”

  “And maybe some housework?” Roz suggested.

  Christian ignored the comment. “Then you come back to the Order with us. You need debriefing.”

  Roz sniggered at the word. “Sorry,” she said when everyone turned to look at her. “I’ve never actually heard anyone say that. ‘Debriefing’—it’s sort of…” She trailed off and shrugged. It wasn’t her fault none of them had a sense of humor.

  Ryan appeared undecided. She’d rather this didn’t get physical, and she was sure the debriefing thing wasn’t optional for the detective. Though she supposed Piers or Christian could just mesmerize him into going with them. She’d rather they didn’t do that to her friends either. “Wouldn’t you like to know what this is all about?” Roz said, sure that would tempt Ryan.

  “You mean they’ll tell me?”

  “Why not? You know a lot already.”

  “Too much?” he asked, and she realized he believed his life was in danger. Hell, maybe it was. She glanced at Piers and Christian. Piers just looked impatient to be off.