Bittersweet Darkness (3 page)

“Yes. You’re the demon representative of the brand-new Committee for the Integration of Mankind and…well…other kinds. Including us.”

Asmodai narrowed his eyes. “The Order’s new initiative?” He’d heard rumors that the Order was gearing up for some big changes. But he hadn’t planned to be any part of them—he was as integrated as he wanted to be. Humans with their frail existences and short lifespans held very little interest for him.

“Yes. And they’re expecting you five minutes ago. At least you’ll get the chance to hand over your gift.”

A committee? But really what choice did he have? And Luc was right. Tara was bound to be there. He gave a brisk nod and headed for the door.

As he exited the building, he spread his wings and launched into the air. He headed for the nearest place where the walls between worlds was thin and spoke the words to open a gateway to the Earth.

This particular portal opened into an alley at the back of the CR International offices, in the business district of London. Asmodai took his human form as he stepped through, then closed it with a wave of his hand and made his way around to the front of the building. He pushed through the glass double doors and into the large reception area.

Graham, Christian’s red-haired human servant, sat behind the desk. He appeared a little harassed, and Asmodai hung back while he dealt with the two women in front of him. Though on closer inspection, one woman and one girl. Asmodai dismissed the girl as uninteresting, but something about the woman drew his attention, which was strange in itself. It had been so many years…

She was tall and bordered on too thin. Her hair was long and dark and pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore a plain black pantsuit and no makeup. Obviously, a woman uninterested in men. That intrigued him, because she was attractive with expressive gray eyes, white skin, and a wide mouth, her lips red even without lipstick.

And whatever she was saying was pissing Graham off.

“Look, I know Ryan works here, so you might as well just call him up and tell him I’d like to see him.”

Graham sighed. “Your name?”

“Detective Faith Connelly.” She pulled a badge from her pocket and flashed it at Graham. A policewoman. That was where she got her air of authority. “And while you’re at it, tell him Jessica is here to talk to Rosamund Fairfax.”

Now, that
was
interesting. He glanced at the girl. She had a fragile look and a bleakness in her eyes.

Graham spotted him. He swallowed and gave him a brief nod before turning back to the woman. “I’m afraid Mr. Ryan is in an important meeting right now, Detective.”

Yeah, the “important meeting” Asmodai was no doubt late for. Christ, he was part of a committee.

How had he sunk so low?

Well, when you made a deal with the devil, you had no choice but to pay his price. And if this was the sum total of his bill, then he’d gotten off lightly.

“If you leave a number,” Graham continued, “I’m sure he’ll call.”

“You are?” the woman replied. “Unfortunately, I’m not. We’ll wait if you don’t mind. Just tell him we’re here.”

“I’ll tell him,” Asmodai said from behind her.

She whirled around, her eyes widening as she caught sight of him. Her gaze ran over him a couple of times, and those pretty lips turned down in a frown as though she didn’t like what she saw. “You know Ryan?”

“Yes, I know Ryan. I’m Ash,” he murmured and held out his hand. “Ashton Delacourt.” She stared at his hand for a moment as though it might bite. Then she reached out slowly. Her palm was cool, which was odd, as warmth flooded his body at her touch. Nerves—long dormant—tingled into life. He closed his fingers around her and held on until she tugged free.

“You’re here for the meeting?” Graham asked him. “They’ve already started. I’ll get one of the security guards to take you down.”

Asmodai nodded and turned back to the woman. “I’ll tell Ryan you’re here, Detective. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see one of his old colleagues.”

“You might be sure, but I’m not,” Detective Faith Connelly replied.

Chapter Two

“Holy freaking moly,” Faith muttered.

“Is that the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?” Jessica spoke in hushed tones from beside her.

“Very probably,” Faith replied without thinking.

Jess giggled, sounding for once like the schoolgirl she was. Faith leaned her butt on the reception desk, folded her arms across her chest, and watched as Ash Delacourt walked away. He moved with the grace of a big cat, almost flowing across the marble floor. He had to be six five, and long and lean in black leather pants and a full-length coat.

He turned as he reached the elevator and caught her gaze. Her breath quickened.

Yup, it was official. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Though beautiful wasn’t quite the right word. His skin was pale, shadowed over his jaw, his cheekbones sharp, his eyes dark, and his lips full.

Definitely worth a holy moly or two if you went for the bad-boy type, which Faith didn’t.

Even so, she couldn’t take her eyes from the vision of raw masculine power until finally the elevator doors closed behind him and she breathed again. Someone coughed and she turned to see the receptionist watching her, a flash of amusement in his eyes.

“What?” she muttered.

He shook his head. “Nothing, Detective.”

“Good.”

“Would you like to take a seat? I can get you some coffee, tea…a double brandy?”

Obviously, she was looking as shell-shocked as she felt. She sniffed and mustered her dignity. “No, thank you. I’ll just wait over here. Come along, Jessica.”

…

Piers Lamont, current head of the Order of the Shadow Accords, glanced up as Asmodai slipped into the room. “You’re late,” he snapped. “And who the fuck invited you anyway?”

“I did.” Christian rose to his feet, probably sensing an imminent fight. Oh goody. Asmodai had been bored recently, restless. This might actually be just the diversion he needed, and with the added incentive of a chance to get close to Tara. After casting him a blatantly disinterested glance as he’d entered, she’d pointedly turned away. She was stubborn. Like him.

“We have representatives from all the main races,” Christian continued, his tone reasonable. “I asked the Demon Council, and I guess this is who they thought most appropriate. And they’re right. Of all of them, he’s the one who has had the most contact with mankind.”

It was strange to hear Christian defending him. At one point Asmodai’s whole existence had focused on destroying the vampire and everyone he loved and cared for. But if his daughter loved him, then Asmodai would put aside his own need for revenge.

Asmodai turned back to Piers. “I’m sure Rosamund is pleased to have me here,” he said and tensed himself for Piers’s attack.

The other man didn’t like him. He hated the idea that Asmodai had had Roz under his protection for centuries. That he’d slept with Roz. Well, maybe not slept, but they’d been lovers a few centuries ago. Asmodai didn’t blame him; he actually thought Piers was showing amazing restraint.

It occurred to him that he’d been celibate for over twenty years, and maybe he was ready for a little recreational fun. Certainly not with Roz, but an image of the detective he’d just met flashed up in his mind and the heat caught fire. How strange.

Roz answered him. “Piss off, Ash.” She turned to Piers. “Ignore him—he’s trying to wind you up.”

Asmodai chuckled. She knew him too well.

“Could we get back to work here?” Piers snarled, showing the tip of one sharp white fang. “Ryan you were saying…?”

Ryan was the Order’s new human-liaison officer. An ex-detective with the metropolitan police, he had inadvertently gotten involved with the Order’s business and been offered a choice: be killed, be mind-fucked, or join them. Not so strangely, he’d decided to join them. He was okay…for a human.

Now he rose to his feet, shoved his hands in his pockets, and scowled. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “You want me to set up meetings with various organizations, government, military, and so on, and see how receptive they are to the somewhat improbable idea of your existence?”

“Yeah,” Piers replied. “That about sums it up.”

Ryan didn’t appear impressed. “You know they might just toss me in the loony bin and throw away the key.”

“If they do, we’ll come and get you out…eventually.” Piers grinned. “But you’re going in as an employee of CR International. That should at least get you a hearing before they fit you for the straitjacket.”

CR International was Christian’s company—set up after he’d left the Order over twenty years ago—and very successful. Propping himself against the wall, Asmodai let the conversation wash over him while he studied Tara. Perhaps his gift would please her.

She hated him. And while she bore no resemblance to him physically, he had quickly discovered that she was as unforgiving as any demon.

“Do I go to these meetings alone?” Ryan asked.

“No,” Piers replied.

“So…?”

Piers looked around the room and a small smile settled on his face. “Asmodai will go with you. He’ll be your partner. He can dress up smart and play nice and human. It will do him good, teach him restraint.”

“Hey, I am smart.” Asmodai peered down at himself. He was dressed pretty much the same as Piers in black leather pants and a black T-shirt, a leather duster coat covering him almost to the ankles.

“Right,” Ryan said. “I’m going in there with a fucking demon. Great. Just great.”

“It could be worse,” Asmodai replied. “You could be going in there with a fucking fairy.”

“Good point,” Ryan murmured.

“And at least I blend in a little,” Asmodai pointed out. “I mean, I could have worn my sword if I’d wanted to look like a total asshole.”

Everyone turned to the Walker, who shrugged. The Walker was a fae assassin as well as an asshole. While Asmodai could pass for human if he made the effort—albeit a pretty scary human—the fae never tried to blend in. The Walker looked like he was wearing fancy dress, in tight pants, long boots, and a sword at his side. Dickhead.

Asmodai forced down his revulsion. The world was changing. His people knew that and the old hatreds had to be set aside. At least until they had sorted out the new and growing threat of what to do about mankind.

“Can you do that mind-wiping thing like these two?” Ryan nodded toward Christian and Piers.

“Not quite the same but something similar. Enough to stop you from getting thrown in the loony bin if things go bad.”

“Great.”

“Okay,” Piers said. “The other things we need to talk about are angels.”

“Do we have to?” Roz muttered.

A month ago, they had discovered that Roz was quarter angel. Angels hated any beings with mixed blood. They knew of Roz’s existence and wanted her dead. The Order was breaking the rules by not handing Roz over, and war could erupt at any moment.

“Have any been seen?” Piers asked.

“Not so far,” Asmodai said. “But there’s a rumor that Raphael is on the move.”

“Shit,” Piers said.

“Maybe you should take Roz and go away,” the Walker suggested.

“Hide?” Piers sounded as though he didn’t know the meaning of the word. But he paused, obviously thinking about the option. As far as Asmodai was aware, the vampire had never had someone he cared for before. It was a whole different mind-set and while he was sure Piers wouldn’t hide for his own safety, he was obviously considering it for Roz. “Not yet. We’ve sent messages asking to talk. We’ll wait until we hear back. That should at least mean they won’t zap us without warning.”

“Good luck with that,” Asmodai said.

Maybe now was the time to hand over his present. He pushed himself away from the wall and took a step toward Tara. She’d been talking in a low voice to Christian, but she glanced his way with a vaguely hostile expression in her clear green eyes. Okay, maybe the “vaguely” was wishful thinking on his part—definitely hostile.

As he came to a halt in front of her, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the talisman. “I have a present for you,” he said.

Tara eyed the jewel as though it might reach across and bite her.

“What is it?” Christian asked.

“A talisman. It will protect my daughter against the white fire of the angels.”

“Give it to Roz,” Tara said. “She needs it more than me.”

Asmodai shook his head. “The white fire won’t harm Roz—her angel blood will protect her. They’ll have to find another way to kill her. But you’re half demon—the fire would burn you.”

“Take it,” Christian urged.

She peered at it dubiously. “Why don’t you keep it?”

Christ, she was suspicious. “I can take care of myself. The fire won’t kill me.”

Piers took a step closer. “But I’m betting it will hurt. And that would protect you?” He nodded at the talisman. “It must be potent stuff. I thought only the blood of Lucifer could protect from angelfire.”

Asmodai shrugged. “I did a deal.”

“Really?” Piers studied him for a moment. “Take your coat off.”

“You want me to strip? Kinky.”

“Just do it.”

Asmodai sighed. He knew where Piers was heading with this and while he didn’t want to go along, it might be for the best. He couldn’t speak of the sigil, that was part of the binding spell, but he could show it, and they would no doubt understand.

He shrugged out of his coat and tossed it on a nearby chair.

Piers studied him for a moment. “And the shirt.”

Asmodai unbuckled the shoulder holster and dropped it on top of the coat, then pulled his T-shirt over his head. Piers stepped closer and examined the sigil, which twined around his upper arm like an intricate tattoo.

“Hey, it’s like that thing Roz had,” Ryan said.

“A demon’s sigil. And not any demon—Lucifer’s.” Piers studied him out of narrowed eyes. “Shit, you indebted yourself to fucking Lucifer. Are you a total fucking asshole?”

“Hey, he’s a mate,” Asmodai said. “He’s not going to ask anything I don’t want to do.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Don’t believe all the bad press. Nobody’s all evil, just as nobody is all good.” He held out the talisman again and this time Tara took it, though her fingers shook slightly. As she lifted it over her head, he released his breath in a sigh.