Bittersweet Darkness

by Nina Croft

  “What goes on there?” she asked. And why couldn’t she see it?

  The colonel gave a small smile. “Once your probationary period is over, you’ll be cleared for that as well.”

  The second item was a gun. A Berretta 8000 semiautomatic. She stared at it for a moment and then picked it up and checked the safety was on.

  “There is a firing range on level two. You have an appointment there after the scans to make sure you can handle the weapon.”

  It wasn’t as big as Ash’s gun had been, but probably Ash had the biggest everything. Why did that thought make her feel a little warm? She squirmed on her seat then glanced up to find the two men watching her.

  “So,” she said. “You’ve gone to a lot of bother to get me here. What for?”

  “We want you to make contact with your old partner, John Ryan. Find out what he’s doing and see if you can get an in to CR International.”

  Now, was the time to tell them about her visit to Ryan last night, but something kept her quiet on the subject. She certainly wasn’t about to tell them of the job Ryan had mentioned or they’d have her in there undercover quicker than she could say “spy.”

  She didn’t want to be a spy, and she certainly didn’t want to snoop on her friend. At least not until she had found out more about what was going on. So she nodded. “You said you had evidence that tied Christian Roth in to my murder case.”

  “No longer your case, Detective.”

  “The hell it isn’t.”

  “Here at MI13 we look at the larger picture. We’re not involved in individual murder cases.”

  “So what are you involved in?” she asked.

  “The survival of mankind,” Father O’Brien answered.

  She twisted on her seat so she could see the priest. He stood, hands clasped in front of him, looking pious and godly. Asshole.

  “Yeah, right,” she muttered.

  “You need to open your heart to God, and you will see the truth.”

  “Of course I will.” Not.

  “I sense that you’re a skeptic, Faith,” the colonel said, his tone tinged with amusement. “But I assure you, you’ll be a convert once you’ve seen the evidence.”

  A glimmer of interest flickered to life inside her. They were talking her language now. Good, hard evidence was what she believed in. But she didn’t believe they would have any strong enough to convince her that she was wrong and the monsters really existed. All the same, she might find something useful to help her case, because no way was it not her case. She would solve Julie’s murder even if she had to work on it in her own time.

  “Well then,” she said. “Take me to your evidence.”

  Chapter Six

  Ash called a meeting in Ryan’s office the evening after he met Faith. Their whole integration plan was based on the concept that the Order was a big, dark secret. Yet now it seemed as though there was a government organization actively studying them. And they had a file on Christian and God knows who else.

  Of course, Christian had been outside the Order for many years. He’d left after the last demon wars—maybe a guilty conscience. He’d been phenomenally successful as a businessman, maybe too successful, which was perhaps what had brought him to the attention of the authorities. Ash’s revenge had brought Christian back to the Order, searching for answers and for a way to protect Tara.

  The sun was just setting outside as Ash lounged back on the sofa, his booted feet resting on the coffee table while they waited for the vamps to wake up. He took a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle.

  “Didn’t someone say alcohol is supposed to do weird things to demons?” Ryan asked, his glance wary.

  “Yeah. Turns us all demonic.” He grinned. “Some of us, anyway. The weaker ones can’t take it and even the stronger ones can go a little weirded out if they’re not used to it.” He took another swig. “Lucky for you, I’m used to it.”

  He held out the bottle and Ryan sighed.

  “Why the hell not?” He pulled two glasses from his desk and put them on the table next to Ash’s boots.

  Ash poured a good measure into both and watched, amused as Ryan perched on the edge of the desk and sipped.

  Ryan appeared exactly what he was: a cop. Well an ex-cop now but Ash was guessing they never really lost the look. He wore gray slacks and a black sweater, a beat-up leather jacket over the top.

  “So how are the arrangements going?” Ash asked. “Any important meetings to go to yet?”

  “First one is the day after tomorrow—with a guy from the ministry of defense.” He cast a glance at Asmodai and frowned. “You are going to wear something different, aren’t you?”

  “Different?” Ash peered down at himself, in the usual black leathers and T-shirt he wore in his human manifestation.

  “I suggest a suit, because I’m not sure you’ll get passed security like that.”

  “A suit?”

  “Yeah and maybe a haircut.”

  He must have appeared shocked at the idea because Ryan grinned. “It’s not like that guy in the bible where you lose your powers or something if you have it cut?”

  “No.”

  “Well lose the ponytail, then. It’s…girlie.”

  Girlie?

  “I’ll think about it. And are you going to get a suit and a haircut?”

  “Me? Why?” He ran a hand through his already mussed hair so it stood on end. Ash quirked a brow.

  “I’ll think about it.” Ryan gulped down his whisky and poured another. “The waiting is fucking killing me. I want something to happen.”

  “Be wary of saying that. Things will happen soon enough.”

  “You think they’re going to come after Roz? The”—Ryan paused as though the word might choke him—“angels.”

  “I’m sure they are.”

  Ryan pressed his fingers to his forehead. “Christ. I never thought the time would come when I would be on the opposite side to the angels.”

  “You believed in them? Before all this, I mean.” Ash waved a hand encompassing the area.

  “A few years ago, I would have said no. But then I met Roz.”

  “Ah, Roz,” he murmured reminiscently. “Enough to make anyone believe in angels. Did you and she ever…?”

  “No. How about the two of you? Were you close?”

  Five hundred years ago, Ash had saved Roz from being burned at the stake by a mob of rampaging villagers. In exchange, she’d been indebted to him until she’d completed thirteen tasks. He’d taken her that night amid the dying screams of her oppressors. She’d been seventeen, a virgin, and sweet as sin.

  But he wasn’t about to share that with Ryan.

  Christian and Tara arrived at that moment saving him from answering. Piers and Roz were close behind. From the crimson glow in his eyes, Piers had fed recently. That and the puncture marks in Roz’s neck.

  “So,” Piers said. “Is someone going to tell me what this is about? I had plans for this evening and you’ve fucked them up.”

  Piers had taken over the leadership of the Order when Christian had left. Most had considered him a strange choice. Though probably the most powerful vampire in existence—Piers was over two thousand years old and vamps gained strength with age—he’d never been known for his diplomatic qualities. And keeping peace between the races was one of the main functions of the Order. But he’d done well and it was probably only his intervention that had saved the world from being under Andarta’s less than tender control. Andarta had been a mad bitch, but she’d loved Piers. There was no accounting for taste.

  “So sorry,” Ash said not attempting to hide his sarcasm. “But as head of the Order you might be interested in this.”

  “‘This’ being?”

  Ash turned to Ryan. “You want to start?”

  Ryan was leaning against the wall at the back of the room observing them, as usual. Now he pushed himself up and strode to the front.

  “Last night, I had a visit from my old partner at the Met. App
arently, yesterday morning, she was approached by a government department who claimed to be investigating Christian.”

  “Investigating me for what?”

  “Well not nonpayment of taxes. Other than that, she wasn’t sure, but they hinted about some sort of supernatural, spooky connection. She told them to piss off. But she said they implied there was a tie-in to the murder case we were investigating. The first girl your vamp friend took. The one who didn’t survive.”

  Piers frowned. “Jack’s dead. And he was hardly my friend—I pulled his head off. So why is the case is still open?”

  “Well, I could hardly suggest we close it without explaining how I knew that the perp is dead. Faith also said they mentioned Roz.”

  “Why the hell would they mention Roz?”

  Ryan seemed unfazed by the anger in Piers’s voice. He shrugged. “At a guess, if they’ve been watching the CR building, they’ve picked her up on surveillance. Maybe she was already on their files.”

  “Your ex-partner, where does she enter into all this?” Piers asked.

  “Again, at a guess—nowhere. Except the fact that she is my ex-partner and I’ve come to work for Christian.”

  “You’re sure of that? She couldn’t already be involved with this government organization? Maybe she’s playing you to get close to Christian.”

  “Faith? You’ve got to be kidding. She doesn’t believe in any of this stuff. She’s almost pathological about it, and it would take a hell of a lot to shift that attitude.”

  “Why?” Ash asked suddenly curious.

  “Why what?”

  “Why is she so emphatically against believing in us? There’s usually a reason. Something that happened in the past. Has she always been like that?”

  Ryan shrugged. “As long as I’ve known her.”

  “Does she have family?”

  “Not that I know of and not that she ever speaks of. And hey, why are you asking so many questions about Faith?”

  “I phoned up her old office today—”

  “Old?”

  “Yeah—old. I told them I had information relating to a case she’s working on and they transferred me to some guy. Apparently, Detective Faith Connolly has been reassigned and is no longer working her cases.”

  “Hmm, I’m betting Faith wasn’t happy about that.” Ryan pursed his lips. “What about the whole integration thing. Do we put it on hold?”

  Piers thought for a second. “If we didn’t know about this organization, the chances are that it’s deep under and not many people do. Christian has contacts in the government and military; he can start asking around, see if we can find out anything about them. In the meantime, I suggest Ryan and Ash continue with their meetings. But Ryan, you don’t go alone, and Ash—if anything happens, you get him out of there. I don’t want any spook hunters getting hold of him.”

  “So I’m his goddamn babysitter now am I?”

  “Yeah. Guard him with your life.”

  Ash glanced across at Ryan who had a somewhat alarmed expression on his face. Obviously, he didn’t like the idea of being babysat by a demon, but really, he should appreciate the honor. Ash had never lost anybody he didn’t actually want dead.

  “So what do we do about Faith?” Ash asked.

  “Faith?”

  “Ryan’s ex-partner.”

  “We don’t do anything about her,” Ryan said. He turned to Piers. “I sort of offered her a job here if she wants one.”

  “You did?” Piers sounded amused more than anything. “Glad to see you’re making yourself at home.”

  “Well, you did say you wanted to recruit more humans and Faith is good.”

  “Well that would solve the problem. In the meantime, we need to keep an eye on her.”

  “I’ll do that,” Ash said.

  Ryan frowned, then shrugged. “She’s a big girl—she can take care of herself. Besides, you’re hardly her type and I’d like to be around when she tells you to take a hike.”

  “Ryan,” Roz said. “You are aware that Ash goes by a few other names?”

  “He does? So?”

  “Er...Prince of Darkness, Lord of the Abyss”—she paused for effect—“Demon of Lust.”

  “Lust? Shit what does that mean?”

  “It means he’s had a lot of experience.”

  Ash grinned as he remembered some of it had been with Roz.

  “Get that slimy grin off your face,” Piers growled as if he knew exactly what Ash was thinking. Ash gazed at Roz and licked his lips to wind the vampire up.

  Roz ignored the look. “All I’m suggesting is that if she’s your friend maybe you’d prefer me or Tara to keep an eye on her. We can call her up, say you thought she might want to hear more about the job.”

  “That might be an idea, anyway,” Piers said. “If we could get her on our side, she might be an in to this organization.”

  “Yeah, but before you meet Faith, you might want to cover up those love bites on your neck,” Ryan said. “She’s investigating a case where the victim was exsanguinated and she’s not stupid.” He glanced across at Ash. “I think Ash should contact her as well. She’s more of man’s woman, and he might get closer.”

  “Why? I thought I wasn’t her type.”

  “You’re not, but I saw the way she looked at you last night. And while you might show her a good time, it will only ever be sex. And that’s not going to kill her.” A flash of alarm crossed his face. “Is it? You don’t do some weird demony shit, do you?”

  Ash chuckled. Yeah, there was a whole load of weird demony shit he could do—some of it she might even enjoy. But he wouldn’t. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  “And besides,” Ryan continued. “I still think she’ll tell you to piss off. She’s got way too much taste to fall for a demon.”

  …

  Faith sat back and rubbed her forehead. A vague headache had been nagging at her brain for a couple of hours now. She didn’t think it was anything serious, probably just the result of spending the afternoon deep underground staring at a computer screen.

  She’d spent the last two hours reading the level-two file on Christian Roth, which in no way convinced her that Christian Roth was anything other than he seemed, an extremely successful businessman.

  Apparently, he was born in the sixties but all his records had been destroyed in a fire. He’d first appeared just over twenty years ago, had bought the building that now housed CR International, and almost overnight, the business had boomed. But that didn’t mean he was a fucking vampire. It probably did mean that he was dodgy or at least paying kickbacks to someone. But if he was, there was no evidence of it.

  “CR Investigations,” the section of the company Ryan worked for, did everything from investigative work, to setting up security systems, to providing a private army to anyone who might need one. No hint of anything illegal.

  Someone came up beside her. Peering over her shoulder, she found the colonel standing at her back. For some reason, he made her skin crawl. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t like it.

  “This is a load of crap,” she muttered. “There’s nothing weird about this guy, except he’s very good at what he does.”

  “You don’t find it strange that he has never been seen out in the daytime?”

  “Oh yeah, right, because if he did, he’d go up in a puff of smoke. That’s definitely proof. Not.”

  “You’re a cynic, Detective.”

  “Too right. I work on evidence, and so far, I’ve seen nothing conclusive.”

  “Hopefully, tomorrow you’ll have more. I’m clearing it with my superior.”

  “You have a superior? I can’t imagine that or at least I’m surprised you admit to it.”

  “We all have to answer to someone, Faith.” He leaned over her shoulder, and she had to hold herself still to stop from edging away. “Try comparing the photos we have of Roth,” he suggested.

  Faith punched a few keys. There weren’t many photographs, probably because he was pre
tty much a recluse, rarely seen out in public. And those there were on file were hazy as though he’d somehow shifted at the last second, blurring the picture.

  The first was back in the early days when he had shown up. Tall and lean, he towered over the people around him. He wore a dark business suit and even with the bad quality, she could tell he was a stunningly handsome man. But there was nothing weird about him, no horns or a tail, no fangs that she could see.

  “Compare it to the latest picture,” the colonel said.

  She pulled up the last file and studied it.

  “This was taken a few weeks ago. One of the rare sightings of Roth outside his building.”

  He was dressed differently. In fact, everything appeared different. In the first photo, he’d worn an aura of respectability. In this last picture, he looked anything but respectable. With a jolt of shock, she realized he reminded her of Ash. Maybe it was that he was dressed the same, black leather pants and a black trench coat that nearly reached the ground. His dark hair was brushed back from his face. A face that appeared identical to the first picture. Not a day older.

  “Is it the same person? Maybe a brother?” she asked.

  “It’s the same.”

  She wanted to ask how he was so sure.

  “Even if he’d been only around twenty when the first picture was taken,” the colonel said, “he must be in his midforties by now. Does that man appear to be in his midforties?”

  “Botox?” she suggested.

  The colonel gave an exaggerated sigh. “What will it take to make you a believer?”

  “I don’t think you can.” She thought for a moment and an image of a wall rose up in her mind. She shook it away. “You know how you get religious types who go on about faith and how you know it’s real. Well I feel like that, but the opposite. There’s something inside me. Something that knows it’s all rubbish. God, vampires, demons, angels—crap, the whole lot.”

  He shook his head in exasperation. “Why don’t you head home? You look tired and soon we’ll have your clearance and we can show you something that will convince you.”

  “Good idea.”