The Order Boxed Set (54 page)

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 actions, 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

Roz must have managed to sleep eventually. She woke feeling terrible, then remembered why and felt even worse.

How were Ryan and Maria feeling right now? That blood-sucking bastard better not have touched them.

Thinking about blood-sucking bastards brought back the scene with Piers, and she pulled the pillow over her head and groaned. At least she would never see him again. Hopefully she would be long gone before he got up out of his coffin—or wherever it was he spent the daylight hours. Why didn’t that thought make her happier?

After showering, she dressed quickly in jeans and a T-shirt, sneakers on her feet just in case she had to run. Then she sat and sipped a cup of coffee while she decided what to do first. The truth was she needed help, and she had very limited choices. Before she left, she checked her cell phone. There were three messages from Shera. Asmodai must be looking for her. What a surprise—but he’d have to wait. It would do him good.

She took the private elevator down to the reception area. The place buzzed with activity this morning, but it was nine o’clock, the start of the working day for most ordinary people—and the people milling about appeared very much like ordinary human beings.

The woman from the other day was behind the desk. She didn’t appear to recognize Roz in her normal gear, which was hardly surprising—people tended not to see beyond the nun’s habit. It was what had made it such a good disguise.

“I need to see Jonas,” she said. She realized she didn’t have his last name. What was she supposed to say—Jonas the “warlock”? She had no clue whether this woman was aware of what went on below ground…Though she had known Piers, and she’d been wary of waking him during the day, so chances were she knew of the Order.

Roz hoped she could help, because if she couldn’t then she was going to have to contact Tara. And she’d rather not do that, because Tara would tell Christian and Christian would tell…

“I’m afraid Jonas is not in the building right now.” She gave Roz a dazzling smile that was all on the surface.

“Do you know where I can find him?”

“He’s probably at the Crooked Hat.”

“The Crooked Hat?”
Where the hell is that?

“It’s a public house in the East End. Jonas lives there when he doesn’t stay here.”

“Okay, can you give me the address?”

“No problem, Ms. Fairfax.” So she did know who Roz was. The woman scribbled an address down on a notepad by her desk and handed the paper to her. She glanced at it before shoving it in her pocket. “But Mr. Lamont left orders that if you wanted to leave the building, then Carl would take you wherever you would like to go.”

“Carl?”

Didn’t she remember Tara mentioning a Carl? Wasn’t he a werewolf? She was almost tempted to let him take her just so she could meet him. She’d never met a werewolf before, and today would be her last chance. But she could do without being lumbered with a bodyguard she would no doubt have to lose at some point during the day.

“He’s head of security here. I’ll call him for you.”

Roz smiled. “No, don’t do that. I’d much rather take a cab.”

The woman opened her mouth but Roz didn’t wait for her to speak, just turned around and strode out of the building. She half-expected someone to stop her, but she was out on the street without anyone trying.

It was a gorgeous day and she tried not to think about the fact that it was her last. Instead, she headed off at a fast walk and managed to pick up a cab a couple of blocks down. She gave him the address of the Crooked Hat.

The journey took forty minutes, mainly because the traffic was so busy at this time of day. He finally let her out in a pretty rundown area—a mix of residential houses and small businesses. The Crooked Hat was a pub, with a sign over the door showing a wizard’s tall hat, slightly bent in the middle. The pub appeared no better than the rest of the area, the dark red paint peeling off the door.

She pushed through. For a moment, she stood just inside while she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. The place appeared deserted, but then someone moved behind the long bar that ran the full length of the far wall.

A young man, polishing glasses, glanced up as she approached. “We’re closed.” His tone was sullen, and Roz didn’t waste her time with a smile. Instead, she kept on coming until she came to a halt by the bar.

“I’m here to see Jonas,” she said.

“He’s not here.”

She reached out with her Seeker power and sensed the warlock’s presence somewhere close. “Yes, he is.”

“How…?” His mouth snapped shut, and he studied her for a moment. “You’re from the Order?”

”Yes.” It wasn’t the entire truth, but if it would get her a meeting with Jonas, she was quite willing to let the young man believe.

“He’s through the back.” The bartender waved toward a door in the wall opposite, but as she turned to look, the door opened and Jonas emerged. He approached with a slight frown on his face.

“Rosamund, how nice to see you here, but also a little…unexpected. You should have called; I would have met you at the Order.”

“I wanted to talk to you in private.”

He quirked one iron-gray brow. “You did? How intriguing. You’d better come through.”

She followed him back through the door and into a comfortable sitting area.

“Can I get you anything, coffee? A drink? You’re a little pale.”

She decided to get straight to the point. “Tara told me you sell spells. I’d like to buy a spell.”

He sat back in his chair and clasped his hands on his lap as he studied her. The silence stretched until she thought she would scream.

“What sort of spell?”

She shrugged. How was she supposed to know what sort of spells there were? “One that goes bang.”

“You want to blow something up?”

“I want to destroy something.” There was no other way. However hard she’d searched for alternatives—she failed to come up with anything that would keep the Key from the bad guys
and
free Ryan and Maria.

“Something ordinary or something magical?” Jonas asked.

That one she could answer. “Magical.”

He studied her for a moment. “Is Piers aware you are here?”

“No, and I’d rather he didn’t know.”

“Will this endanger the Order?”

“No.” Well, she hoped not. If her plan worked, it would help the Order, though she supposed handing the Key over to Piers would help them more. But she’d already decided that wasn’t an option. “I can pay, whatever your price. I have money.”

“But I already have plenty of money.”

Damn. She was hoping he’d be motivated by greed. She didn’t know him well enough to guess at what else might persuade him to help her. “So what can I give you?”

“Blood.”

“Blood? You’re not a vampire, are you?”

He laughed. “No, I’m not a vampire. Many of my spells require power, and there is power in blood, especially fae blood that is given freely.”

“How much blood?” She needed to be able to function for the rest of the day, but so long as the amount wasn’t debilitating, he was welcome to her blood. She didn’t have much use for it herself.

“Little. You will hardly notice.”

That sounded almost too good to be true. “And can you do it? Can you make a spell?”

“I can. What you are asking for is relatively simple. Now you must tell me the details.”

…

Half an hour later, she had the spell in her pocket. She could feel the pulse of the magic. Jonas had bandaged her wrist afterward, but she could still feel the sting of the cut. He’d told the truth—he’d taken only a small bowl of her blood, whispering words of magic as it dripped from her wrist, drop by precious drop.

The phone rang. Jonas picked it up and listened. “Are you aware that Carl is parked outside?” he asked her afterward.

“No, but it doesn’t surprise me. Is there a back way out?”

He rose to his feet. “This way.”

He led her through a door at the back of the room. It opened into a narrow passageway and at the end, there was another door that led to the outside and an alleyway, presumably at the rear of the bar. She turned to him as he held the door.

“Will you tell Piers?”

“He will know you came here, but my work comes with a confidentiality clause. Besides, I only work for the Order; they don’t own me.”

“Good.”

“I’m thinking we won’t meet again. A pity—I would have liked to help you discover your powers.”

Me too.
“I guess some things just aren’t meant to be.”

He studied her, his head cocked to one side. “I’m thinking that perhaps your death at this point is also not meant to be.”

“That would be inconvenient to my plans. I have to do this. I can’t see another way.”

“Well, good luck.”

And she walked away.

…

Ryan’s apartment was a pit. Did he never do any housework? She stood in the center of his living room and reached out with her magic. The Key called to her, and she found it easily in a drawer in his bedroom, hidden beneath his boxer shorts.

For the first time, she examined it closely. Such a small thing to cause so much trouble. It appeared to be an ordinary, old-fashioned key of plain black iron. But if she concentrated, she could sense the pulse of magic. Old, powerful magic.

Jonas had told her that more blood was required to bind the spell to an object. She took the Key into the kitchen, found a sharp knife, and pricked the ball of her thumb. After squeezing a few drops onto the Key, she whispered the words that would start the spell.

Now, she need only speak the final words and the thing would self-destruct, hopefully taking Jack with it.

It was still before noon—she had most of the day to get through. She should do something momentous, but instead, she crawled into Ryan’s unmade bed, cuddled the pillow to her chest, and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

…

Piers awoke as the sun went down. He came instantly awake, a sense of anticipation bubbling inside him.

He still had the Andarta problem to solve, but without the Key, her movements were limited.

He frowned. If Roz didn’t have the Key, who did? Roz was a Seeker, so maybe the Order should employ her. They could get this demon off her back, and she could work for them and find the Key—if she didn’t already have it. He could keep her close by while he worked out just what it was that intrigued him so much.

Oh, the taste of her blood, so sweet, was a big part of it. As was that delectably curvaceous body. He’d been an idiot last night; he should have taken her, bound her to him by whatever means possible. He would put that right; it was first on his to-do-list. Take Roz to bed and show her how great they could be together.

His good mood didn’t last for long.

“What do you mean she hasn’t been seen all day?” Piers didn’t even attempt to hide his temper. He’d been on his way up to the penthouse when Graham had waylaid him with the news that Roz was not in the building.

Graham appeared unfazed by his foul mood. He’d seen it before. “She left this morning. Hasn’t been seen since.”