Chapter Twenty-one

A week passed.

Piers received regular reports, and it was clear the chaos was escalating. Thousands had died, and the humans were beginning to see a pattern. The religious types were talking about Armageddon. The rest had no clue. The demon attacks left no survivors so there were no witnesses, but that couldn’t last.

Asmodai had brought back news of a vast army building in the Abyss. Andarta was gaining support, but Asmodai was amassing his own army of followers. The Walker had returned briefly and promised to come to their side once his people had organized their defenses. So far, there had been no attacks on the Faelands.

Within the Order, their focus was on finding Andarta, but anytime they got near, she simply opened another portal and vanished.

The only good thing to come of this was Roz.

When she wasn’t in bed with him, which unfortunately was too much of the time, she was working with Jonas, learning to harness her power. But they were hitting a brick wall. She had a hidden core that they couldn’t touch. Locked up tight deep inside her.

They were working on that now, which was why he was up here alone on the rooftop—Jonas had sent him out, claiming he was a distracting influence. He liked the idea he could distract Roz.

With a start, he realized that the boredom and restlessness that had plagued him recently was gone. He’d always been a loner, had never been good at relationships, but for the first time since he’d become immortal he wanted to try. It was still new, but they had something special. He just hoped they would have the time to explore it. If Andarta had her way, the whole world would descend into disorder.

Once he had reveled in chaos. Now he’d hate to go back to the way things had been before the Shadow Accords.

He grinned. He was turning into a nice guy. But the truth was, he wanted to be the sort of man Roz would admire. Roz was a good person, one of the purest he had ever met, and the amazing thing was she didn’t even realize it. He knew she liked him, but he wanted more. And soon, because he was beginning to realize that this could very well be the end. There was no way they could stand against Andarta and survive. So time was slipping away. He wasn’t sure what happened to immortals if they were finally killed, but he suspected he was soon to find out.

So each time he held Roz in his arms, he willed her to speak the words. So far, she’d remained stubbornly silent. Christ, how many times had he dumped women because they were about to say the L word? The only L word he’d been interested in was lust. Now, he silently urged Roz to say it. Just once and he could accept whatever was going to happen. Mind you, he hadn’t said it to her either, but he didn’t want her to feel pressured—or maybe he was just a coward.

After all, his one and only foray into love hadn’t exactly ended well. Then again, while Roz believed she was bad, Andarta had been the real thing. Pure evil.

As though the thought had conjured her up, a portal opened, and there she was.

For long minutes, he just stared. He could look at her objectively and admit that she was probably the most beautiful woman in the world. And she did absolutely nothing for him. Long blond hair hung like a silken cloak around her shoulders, her eyes were dark—almost black—her skin pale and flawless, marked with swirling runes of power.

As she took a step toward him, he had to hold himself still so as not to back away. She would see that as a sign of weakness.

She came to a halt in front of him. “Piers.”

“Andarta. What do you want?”

Her lips curved into a seductive smile. “What have I always wanted?”

“Death, destruction and the subjugation of just about everyone?”

“Well, those as well. But I want you, Piers. I’ve always wanted you.”

“I would have thought two thousand years locked in a tomb with only Jack for company would have cured you of that.”

“I have to say, at first I was angry. But I came to realize that I’d behaved all wrong. I should have known you would react badly, but I loved you so much and couldn’t bear the idea of you dying.”

Piers studied her closely. Was she telling the truth? Or was this some sort of ploy to trick him?

She reached out with one slender hand and stroked down his cheek with her fingertip. “We were good together. We could be good together again. You have no loyalty to these people. Join with me, and rule at my side.”

She was wrong. Once long ago he had been loyal to no one but his gods, but now there were people he would fight for, die for. He kept his expression blank.

“I love you, Piers. All I want, all I do, is to win back your love.”

How he had longed to hear those words. Unfortunately, not from this woman.

“Tell me what I must do to make you see that.”

He turned away, strode to the edge of the rooftop, and stood staring down at the city below. At the people going about their lives unaware they hovered on the edge of darkness. Andarta would bring that darkness and cover the whole world in despair and madness. She gained power from the suffering of others. He’d always known that, even when he’d loved her. He had no love for her now. He hated her and all that she stood for. But he kept those opinions locked inside. Christ, after two thousand years he was finally learning restraint.

“You’re quiet,” she said from behind him. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“You’ve taken me by surprise, that’s all. I assumed you would hate me.”

“I could never hate you. Everything I do is for you.”

Jesus, it was dawning on him that she was telling the truth. He really wished she wasn’t, because a plan was forming in his mind. And he wished it wouldn’t. He wished it would vanish along with Andarta.

Earlier, he’d thought that he wanted to be the sort of man that Roz would admire. Well, here was his chance. But his whole mind recoiled from the idea. He’d accepted that this could very well be the end of the world as any of them knew it. Now, from the looks of things, he just might have it within his power to stop that.

But at what price?

Was he willing to pay it? A vision of Roz filled his mind. He wanted to give her a wonderful life. He knew she was becoming attached to him, but maybe if he went now—before her feelings became any deeper—she would get over him in time.

Pain hit him in the gut. Why now? Why was this happening to him now? He had the chance to be different, to change.

Or he had the chance to save the world.

He could do this for her. All it required was words. He swallowed; his mouth dry. Then he swung back to face Andarta. He had to get this right, make her believe a mixture of truth and lies. “Tell me something.”

A frown flickered across her beautiful face. “What?”

“Would you rather rule the three worlds alone—”

“Four worlds,” she interrupted. “Heaven will be next. With the Key, nothing will stand in my way.”

Shock punched him in the gut. He forced it aside and continued. “Or would you rather rule the Abyss with me beside you?”

She went still, every muscle locking. “What are you saying?”

“Give me the Key, and I’ll be at your side.”

She studied his face for long minutes as though she could see into his soul. “Why? Why would you?” Her words held an edge of desperation, and he knew what his answer must be, though the words lodged heavy in his throat.

“Because I care for you. I’ve always cared for you—you know that—I worshipped you. But I’ve changed. I’ve come to care for other things, other people, as I never did before. For the last years, I’ve dedicated my life to protecting this world. I can’t turn back from that now.”

“You always did have an over-developed sense of duty.”

Had he? That wasn’t the way he remembered things. But he could use it, if that’s what she believed.

“I want to be with you again,” he said. “I yearn for things to be the way they were, but not at any price.”

She moved to stand next to him, rested a hand on his arm, and he only just prevented the revulsion from showing on his face. “So what are you suggesting?” she asked.

“We give the Key to the Order to be destroyed, and I will rule at your side in the Abyss. There are enough worlds to conquer there.”

“The idea of ruling Heaven doesn’t appeal?”

“I told you—not at any price. I’m being honest with you, Andarta. Ask too much of me and I will come to hate you.”

“And you don’t hate me now?”

Christ, she was being coy. He knew he had her. Who would have thought it? He forced himself to rest his hand on hers and squeeze her fingers. “I don’t hate you.” He should lie and tell her he loved her, but so soon after thinking that word in connection with Roz, he couldn’t do it.

She gazed up at him through narrowed eyes. “You won’t trick me a second time.”

“I know.”

“You would take my sigil, bind yourself to me?”

He’d been expecting it, but all the same, everything inside him revolted from the idea. He couldn’t force any words out, but he managed a brisk nod.

“For two thousand years.”

Shit. “That seems fair.”

“I know, whatever you say, that you don’t feel as you did long ago. But once we are together, you will remember the love you bore me.”

Yeah, of course he would. Like never. “Give me a day,” he said.

“I’ll give you until dawn.”

And she was gone. He should feel euphoric; he was about to save the whole goddamn world. Instead, a strange pain filled his chest. Just like his heart was breaking.

“I can’t do it,” she ground out for about the fiftieth time that night.

Jonas scowled. “Of course you can. You locked it. You can open it.”

Jonas was convinced that there was something locked up tight inside her. Some essential part of her being. She’d like to argue with him, but deep down—actually not that deep—she knew he was right.

Meeting the Walker had awoken a lot of old memories, and one of her earliest was her father, telling her to lock the light away. Lock it away or the bad people would find her, and they would kill her and her mother. So with the help of her father, she had locked it away. How had they done it? She couldn’t remember, and she couldn’t undo it.

And did she really want to? What had been so terrible that it had to be buried so deep?

It was where her healing powers came from. Because however tight it was locked down, just a little trickled out.

She reckoned she needed a chat with the Walker. Glancing down, she caught sight of the ring she still wore around her neck. Maybe she should call him.

She bit her lip and knew she wasn’t ready yet.

Soon.

“Come on, Rosamund, one more time.”

“I told you—I can’t!”

“Am I interrupting something?” Piers’ voice came from behind her, and she whirled around to find him leaning against the open doorway. Her insides melted. He was smiling that slow, lazy smile, though his eyes were guarded, and she went instantly alert.

“She has power, and she refuses to use it,” Jonas said, his tone disgusted.

“I don’t know how.”

“I thought we might take the rest of the night off,” Piers murmured, his gaze traveling down over her body so the melting bits started to smolder.

“You did? Can we do that?”

“Sweetheart, we can do anything we like. I’m the boss.”

Beside her, Jonas snorted, but all her attention was on Piers.

They’d grown closer over the last week, but Piers had been phenomenally busy, and their time together had been snatched moments. She grasped his hand and didn’t look back as he hurried her out of the room. Piers didn’t talk on the way and once the door to his apartment was closed behind them, he dragged her into his arms and kissed her, not giving her a chance to say a word. She didn’t care.

She kissed him back, her hands sliding into his hair.

He stripped her quickly. When she was naked, he turned her, placing her palms against the wall. His lips nuzzled her neck, and a wave of liquid heat poured through her body. He kissed his way down her spine, and flames shot along her nerves, all meeting in her belly.

Piers fell to his knees behind her. His big hands kneaded her buttocks. She felt his cool breath against her skin, his mouth tasting her, his tongue licking, his teeth nipping at her flesh as though he could devour her. A moan of demented pleasure trickled from her tightly clamped lips.

His moist tongue traced the line of her ass to her sex. She felt him push inside her, and only his hands holding her kept her from falling.

He parted her legs further, and his fingers replaced his mouth thrusting into her, rubbing until her hips jerked in time to his movements.

His fangs grazed her inner thigh then plunged into the vein as the pad of his thumb caressed the tight little bud at the center of her being. She came in an explosion of color behind her closed lids and kept on coming as he sucked at her vein and his thumb massaged her clit.

Finally, when she thought she would go mad from the pleasure, he swiped his tongue over the small wound and withdrew his fingers from her sex.

As her legs gave way, he rose to his feet and picked her up in his arms. She was naked and he was fully dressed, and she clung to him as he carried her through and laid her on the bed.

He stripped quickly, his erection huge, and a ripple of residual pleasure ran through her.

She welcomed him with open arms. He came down onto her and into her in one fluid move, and she gasped as he filled her. Then she let her mind go blank as the wildness of his lovemaking swept her away.

Afterwards, as pleasure still racked her frame, he kissed her and smoothed the hair from her face until she drifted away into an exhausted sleep.

Twice more in the night he woke her and made love, until her body ached with the overload of pleasure. After the third time, he spoke the first words since they had entered the room.

“I love you.”

She was sure she heard, and she wanted to answer him, tell him she loved him. But she was drifting into unconsciousness…

When she woke again, a sense of wellbeing rolled over her. She reached for Piers but found him gone.

Instead, on the pillow beside her, lay the Key.

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