Bittersweet Magic

Chapter Six

Piers came to a halt at the entrance to the warehouse. The place was in darkness and as far as he could tell, it was also empty.

Jack was late. Hardly surprising; two thousand years ago, he’d been as unpunctual as hell. Piers couldn’t see how the intervening years locked in a tomb with a pissed-off demoness was likely to have improved his personality.

“You reckon he’ll show?” Christian asked from beside him.

“Hell, yeah. He wants something, and he’s not going to get it without letting me know what the fuck it is. He’s probably just trying to piss me off. He was always good at that.”

“Great,” Christian murmured. “Just what I need.”

Piers grinned. “Hey, I’ve mellowed since then.”

“Since when? Just how do you know this guy?”

He was just about to answer when a sound from above made him raise his head, just as Jack fell from above and landed lightly on his feet in front of them.

Stupid prick must have been hanging from the rafters. He’d always been a show-off. No doubt, that was how the police had picked up on him so quickly. He had no clue how to keep a low profile.

He was dressed all in black—the poser. So were Piers and Christian, but that was beside the point.

“Jack, how nice to see you again after all this time.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. His gaze shifted from Piers to Christian and back again. “Are you going to introduce us?”

“This isn’t a fucking party. Just tell us why we’re here and piss off.”

Jack smiled. “Still bitter, I see. Don’t you think you should have moved on by now?”

Piers opened his mouth to answer, but clamped it closed again. The truth was—he was no longer bitter. He had long ago come to terms with what he was. Hell, he loved what he was. But he hadn’t always felt like this. In the beginning, he’d been mad as hell, and bitter, and probably a little bit twisted. But it suddenly occurred to him that if it wasn’t for the vampire standing in front of him, he would have been dead for the past two thousand years. Maybe he should say thank you. He grinned and felt some of the tension drain from him.

“Jack, how wonderful to see you after all this time. I’d like to say I missed you, but it would be a lie. Now, what can we do for you tonight? Just say what it is you require of us and it shall be done.”

Beside him, Christian snorted.

Jack’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “I somehow doubt that.”

So did Piers. “Okay, tell us anyway, so we can kick your ass and get the hell out of this depressing dump.”

Jack pursed his lips. “I’d like to talk to you alone.”

“Why?”

“Because what I have to say is private.”

Piers shrugged. He wanted this over with, and he wasn’t too worried Jack would try anything terminal. Right from the start, Piers had been stronger, and he’d spent the last two thousand years growing in strength while Jack had been incarcerated in a tomb. He turned to Christian. “Would you wait outside?”

For a moment, he thought Christian would refuse; then he nodded and stalked away.

“Now could you get to the point, Jack?”

“Andarta is awake.”

Why didn’t that surprise him? Maybe because it had been Andarta’s mark cut into Sister Maria’s back. Also, he’d known the spell he’d used to imprison Andarta and Jack wouldn’t be permanent, but the truth was, he’d forgotten about the pair of them. How the hell had that happened? At one point, his whole life had revolved around Andarta, the only time he had ever believed himself in love. Hell, he had been in love. But love was never enough.

“And I have the Key of Solon.”

Now, that was bad news. And that was presumably what Jack had taken from the convent. The Key was supposed to have been destroyed long ago.

“So she’s awake. What does she want?” he asked. Stupid question. His total annihilation, the subjugation of mankind, and no doubt, world domination. Same old.

“She doesn’t confide in me,” Jack replied.

“Now who sounds bitter?”

“At least I have good reason. But I can take a guess at your question. She wants the same thing she always has—to bring down the barriers between the worlds and rule the Earth.” He shrugged. “And you.”

“Me?”

He tried to sound surprised, but he wasn’t. Yeah, he was betting she wanted him—wanted him dead. She’d never been the forgiving sort, and he had betrayed her. But not until she had betrayed him, taken away his beliefs, his life, his chance of rebirth.

“Well, you don’t think I looked you up out of fond memories, do you?”

“So where is she?”

“Still confined to the Abyss. She’s regaining strength but doesn’t have the power to enter this world. Yet.”

Piers frowned. Why would Jack tell him this? “You’re being very forthcoming. Why is that? I’m presuming Andarta would like me dead—why tell me she’s still weak?”

Jack gave a short mirthless laugh. “She doesn’t seek your death.”

“No?”

“The stupid bitch wants you back.”

Piers stared at him, the words not quite making sense. Andarta wanted him back? Back as in “lovers”? Was it just a plot to get him close enough to finish him off?

“It’s no trick,” Jack said as though reading his mind. “I’m here to offer you a place at her side. Consort to the Queen.” Jack’s tone was bitter. But then, Andarta’s side was a place Jack had always aspired to, but he had never been more than a servant to her.

Piers paced the floor of the warehouse. He admitted it—he was thrown completely off balance. Plus—he still wasn’t sure he believed it.

“She said to tell you to remember that she’s always admired strength and ruthlessness. She knows you love her—”

“Loved maybe…a long time ago.”

Jack shrugged. “Whatever. Anyway, I’m here to tell you she is willing to forgive you—all you have to do is ask.”

Piers went back to his pacing. The truth was he didn’t know what to say. He had a flashback to that long ago time when Andarta had been his whole world. God, he’d loved her. No other woman had ever come close. An image flashed in his mind of the little nun, Sister Rosa. Why? Why think of her at this point? He shook his head.

“Tell Andarta I’ll think about it.”

“What’s there to think about? Don’t tell me you don’t still desire her. Don’t tell me you’re satisfied with your life—protecting these humans.”

That reminded him. “Are you aware the police have a picture of you?”

“What?” Jack sounded shocked.

“You’ve been careless. They’re hunting for you in connection with a missing girl. Two missing girls.”

“Really?” Then he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter—soon the police will be irrelevant. So what’s your answer?”

“I’d like some time to consider.” He thought for a minute. With the Key in her possession, Andarta would have been able to open the portal between the Abyss and here, however weak she was. Maybe she wouldn’t risk appearing until she had regained her strength, but he didn’t think that was it. “Have you given her the Key?” Jack glanced away, and Piers knew the answer was no. “You don’t trust her, do you?”

“Why the hell would I trust her?” Jack snarled.

“But you do love her.”

“Piss off.”

“Okay.” He’d had enough of this meeting anyway. He needed to think things through. He turned and walked toward the entrance, pausing in the doorway. “Just don’t let the police catch you. Get rid of the girl—make sure the police don’t find her, or we will come after you.”

“OOOO—I’m so scared.”

Piers ignored the comment and exited the building. Christian was leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest. He quirked a brow as he saw Piers. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Is it all sorted?”

“Hardly.” Piers pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed speed dial. “Carl? He’ll be heading back to wherever he left the girl. Follow him—if she’s dead, make sure he disposes of the body where it won’t be found. If she’s alive, keep her that way and take her back to the Order.”

He slipped the phone into his pocket and frowned. He still couldn’t believe it. Andarta wanted him back. How did he feel about that? The truth was he really didn’t know. His head ached, and he rubbed the spot between his eyes.

“Problems?” Christian asked.

He shook his head. “No. Yes... To be honest, I have no idea.”

Christian grinned. “You sound like you need a drink.”

“Yeah, a drink sounds good. Or two.”

…

Roz fastened her seat belt and stared ahead, trying to get her thoughts settled and on the matter at hand.

She couldn’t get her mind off the conversation between Piers and Christian. Asmodai had always told her that the less she knew the better, but he must have been aware that she would discover things through the bug. Did he no longer care?

There would be time to worry about that later. Right now, she had to concentrate on Jessica if she was to be of any help to Ryan. Her powers never worked when she was distracted.

Closing her eyes, she cleared her mind. “So, tell me what you know,” she said to Ryan.

“We had a whole load of calls after we went public with that picture of yours. Some cranks, but a few were obviously genuine, and we narrowed the area down to a section of the Isle of Dogs—which fits in with your description.”

“The smell of the river,” she murmured.

“Yes. And about half an hour ago we got a call saying someone had seen this guy leaving a house in the same area. That’s where we’re heading now.” He glanced at her quickly. “The team will be there. I couldn’t keep this to myself.”

Roz scowled. She’d expected as much, but she didn’t like it. “Just keep me away from them.”

Ryan reached into his pocket and handed her something. A pin-on badge with “Visitor” in big letters. Roz fixed it to her jacket and stared out of the window some more. They were driving along the embankment now, the river gleaming in the lights. It was close to midnight and the roads were quiet—mainly red buses and the odd cab, but they made good time.

“Will we be able to go in first?”

“Yes, I told the team to wait outside.”

“Good.”

Finally, Ryan pulled into a wide residential road, well lit with streetlights at regular intervals. The houses were tall Victorian terraces with small gardens out front so the buildings were set back from the road. He parked at the edge of the street between two cars. Opposite was a dark van, which she presumed contained his team. He punched on his radio. “Faith?”

“Yeah?”

“Anything happening?”

“Nothing. The place has been in darkness since we got here. We talked to the neighbor and she reckons there’s been no coming or going since she saw our guy leave.”

“Good. You stay put until you hear from me.”

“Okay, boss.”

Ryan turned to Roz. In the dim light, she could see the excited gleam of his eyes. She hoped he wasn’t going to be disappointed.

Please let her be alive. Sending up a silent prayer to anyone who might be listening, she followed Ryan out of the car, then stood for a moment on the pavement. Shutting her eyes, she pictured Jessica, and felt a faint echo resonate deep in her mind. Thank god. She was alive. But just.

Roz started walking and Ryan stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I haven’t told you which house yet.”

She pointed to the one on the corner plot. “There.”

“Shit, that’s spooky.”

She ignored the comment and headed to the house at a fast walk. The wrought iron gate creaked as she pushed it open. A gravel path led up to the dark blue front door with overgrown gardens on either side. There were no lights on inside, and she hesitated at the door. Closing her eyes, she felt again for the fragile flutter of the girl’s mind. Jessica was holding on tenaciously, but her life force was faint and growing fainter.

The door didn’t budge when Roz turned the handle. “Can you kick it in?” she asked

“I shouldn’t.”

“She’s dying, Ryan.”

“Stand back.”

He raised his foot and kicked out. And again. The door gave on the second kick, with a splintering of wood. Roz pushed past him and into a carpeted hallway. After concentrating for a second, she ran straight ahead. She hardly noticed Ryan switching on the lights as she hurried through a door at the end of the hall and into the kitchen. Directly opposite was another door, bolted from the outside, the bolts shiny and new. She slid them back and hesitated for a second.

The door opened into a narrow stairway that led down into the cellars, and she ran quickly down the steps. There were two doors at the bottom facing each other. The first led into a small room, empty but for a cot bed. She shut the door and turned to the other. This one was bolted, and she knew she’d found Jessica. She sensed Ryan at her back, but he didn’t speak. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. The smell hit her first—blood and fear. The room was in darkness, and she groped for the switch, finding it on the wall just outside the door.

The room was identical to the one opposite: small, the only furniture a narrow cot bed. But this room wasn’t empty. A young woman lay on the bed, asleep or more likely unconscious, her naked body curled tight into a fetal ball, arms wrapped around her knees.

“Jessica?”

There was no response, and Roz hurried across the small space between them. Ryan entered behind her, but she focused on the girl on the bed. The dying girl—her life force flickering, fragile and weak.

“Is she dead?” Ryan asked.

“No, alive—just.”

“I’ll call for an ambulance.”

She glanced around quickly. “Not yet, Ryan. Give me a moment.”

“Why? You’ve found her. You’ve done your part. Let us take over now.”

“I can help her. She’s dying, Ryan. There’s no time. Just trust me.”

He ran his hand through his messy hair, then nodded brusquely. “Do what you have to do.”

Roz perched on the side of the filthy mattress and rested her hand on Jessica’s forehead. Her skin was clammy and cool to the touch. Stroking back the long hair, she looked into the face she now knew so well. The eyes remained closed.

Placing her hands on both sides of the girl’s forehead, she closed her eyes and allowed her own life-force to flow into her. At first, she hit a brick wall.

“Come on, Jessica, you have to want this,” she muttered under her breath. She heard Ryan shift behind her but ignored him. Focusing all her power, she visualized it as a narrow arrow, and thrust it into the other girl. This time the healing energy flowed freely.

“Shit,” Ryan said, and Roz’s eyes flashed open.

Where her hands touched the girl, they glowed with a warm pulsing luminescence. She could sense Jessica absorbing the energy, her life force strengthening with each second. Finally, her lids flickered open.

“It’s okay, we’re here to help you,” Roz said quickly as Jessica’s panic flared.

The girl peered around her, her gaze catching on Ryan, and fear darkened her eyes.

“He’s a policeman,” Roz said. “He’s here to get you out, take you home.”

“The man, the…” Jessica cut off the words. “Is he gone?”

“He’s gone.”

“What did you do to me?”

“Yeah,” Ryan said from behind her. “What did you do to her?”

“Just woke you up.”

“You brought me back. I was so close. I wanted to go. I knew if I stayed he’d be back.”

“Well, he won’t, and you’re not going to die. I won’t let you.”

Jessica reached out a trembling hand and touched her lightly on the cheek. “Who are you? What are you?”

“Good question,” Ryan muttered.

“I’m Roz,” she said, ignoring the “what are you,” which she had no clue how to answer anyway.

As Roz rose to her feet, Jessica seemed to realize that she was naked. She sat up and hugged her knees to her chest, peered around the room as if searching for something.

Ryan was wearing a short leather jacket over a blue shirt. He stripped off the jacket, then the shirt, and handed it to Jessica. “Here,” he said, pulling the jacket back on over his bare chest.

Roz whistled. “Nice look.”

Ryan had pulled his radio from his belt. “I’ll call the rest of the team in. We need to search this place. Obviously the fucker is gone, but we might get a lead. And we’ll get you to a hospital, though you don’t look as though you need it.”

“I feel fine,” Jessica replied. “I want to go home.”

“Soon.”

“Ryan, wait a moment.” Roz’s mind was working furiously. Ever since she’d entered the house, she’d sensed another presence. Not a person, but a thing. The Key. She was a Seeker—a name Asmodai had used to describe her. She found things. That’s what she did. And she was good at it. Now, she knew the thing she had been seeking in the convent was here somewhere, hidden by magic. Her magic was stronger, but once Ryan’s team came in, she would have no chance.

“I need five minutes,” she said.

He frowned. “What for?”

“It doesn’t matter, but believe me, it’s important.” Her freedom was at stake here. Excitement built inside her. She had another chance. The sigil on her arm itched as though aware its time was nearly up. Ryan still appeared doubtful, and she spoke quickly. “Jessica will be fine; just give me my five minutes or I swear, I will never help you again. I will disappear, and next time you’ll be on your own.”

He studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowed. “Okay. Five minutes.”

She closed her eyes and concentrated. It wasn’t in this room, and she strode quickly across the floor and out into the narrow stairwell. The other room. That was where the vampire had slept. The door had bolts and a brand new padlock on the inside as though he’d locked himself in.

Standing in the center of the room, she turned slowly—and found it. The Key was calling to her. Stretching out her inner senses, she felt for its hiding place. Without conscious thought, she allowed her feet to move.

Although she was drained from using her healing powers, she still broke through the spell with ease.

“Easy-peasy,” she muttered.

Her fingers felt along the edge of the bare bricks. One was loose and she tugged at it, broke a nail, and swore. Then the brick was free. Reaching into the gap, her fingers wrapped around a small package. Magic pulsed through her hand, along her arm, down her spine. Magic stronger and older than anything she had ever sensed in her life before.

She pulled the package out. Small enough to lie in the palm of her hand, and wrapped in dark red velvet. Slowly, she peeled back the material and revealed… a key.

Well, what had she expected?

“What did you find?” Ryan’s words made her jump and she wrapped her fist around the Key. “Nothing.”

“Yeah, right, of course it’s nothing. If you’re withholding evidence that would help us find this guy…”

“I’m not, and it won’t.” She turned to face him.

“I’m breaking about a thousand rules here—”

“Come on, Ryan, you broke them when you asked me to help, when you gave me that file. Don’t start following the fucking rules when you no longer need me. Because you know what—it will piss me off.”

A smile flickered across his face. “You’re right. And the truth is that without you we wouldn’t have found her. Not alive, anyway—we had nothing. So…” He shrugged. “Hell, I have no clue how you found her. I have even less clue what went on in there just now—but you saved her life.” He ran his fingers through his already mussed hair, suddenly looking exhausted. “You done? Can I please call in my team now?” But as he spoke, his radio buzzed, and he picked it up and listened for a moment. “You sure it’s him?” He listened for a moment longer then lowered the radio. “They’ve spotted the suspect,” he said. “He’s five minutes away and he’s apparently already got a couple of tails—and they’re not ours.”

“Crap,” Roz muttered. At a guess, that was Piers or someone else from the Order following him. She had to get out of there. She couldn’t let the Order see her here. “What are you going to do?”

“We’re getting the girl out. She’s strong enough to travel in the van. We don’t want her here if things go bad. I suggest you go with her. I don’t like this. We have no clue who else is out there, and I’d prefer you to be under police protection.”

“Sweet offer, but no thanks. I’m allergic to the police, and I can protect myself.” But could she? This time she wasn’t so sure. This was the dreaded Order of the Shadow Accords she was up against. Still, she was certain the police wouldn’t be able to do a better job. She glanced down at the small velvet bundle clasped in her hand—the Key to her freedom.

There was a good chance Piers was in the vicinity, no doubt with back up. He could even be watching the place right now if he’d traced where Jack was staying. If he saw her here and out of her nun’s outfit, he’d never believe it was a coincidence. He’d take her in to the Order, and she’d lose her prize so fast. She bit her lip. She’d prefer to keep hold of the Key, but until she got it to Asmodai, the deal wasn’t completed. There was no way to contact Asmodai directly; she had to go through Shera, and that could take time.

It would be too dangerous to hide the Key here—the house would doubtless be searched, and not only by the police. And she couldn’t take it outside in case she was caught.

What to do?

She glanced at Ryan, and he raised an eyebrow in query.

While she was reluctant to involve him, she reckoned there was zero chance of anyone dragging Ryan back to the Order for a full body search. The Key would be safe with him for a short while, and he would be safe with the Key. “Will you do me a favor?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

She almost smiled at the wariness in his tone. “It won’t hurt—promise.” She held out the small package. “Will you keep this safe for me? It will probably—hopefully—only be for a few hours. Then I’ll come and get it.”

“What is it?”

“Just a key.”

“A key to what?”

“I have no clue. It doesn’t belong to me. A…friend asked me to find it for him. It’s what I do—I find things. I just have to get in touch with him and arrange to hand it over. But I’d prefer it if no one knows I have it.”

He studied her for a moment, genuine concern in his eyes. “Are you in some sort of trouble?”

She grinned. “No more than usual.”

“Okay. Give it here.”

She handed him the Key and watched as he put it in the inside pocket of his jacket and zipped it up safely. “Right, I’m out of here,” she said. “Will you tell your guys I’m coming out?”

He nodded, and she turned and headed for the stairs. At the door, she paused. “Ryan, if anyone does come asking about that key—hand it over. It’s not worth fighting for.” That was a lie, but it was her fight, not Ryan’s, and she’d hate him to come to harm over this.

Without waiting for a reply, she hurried up the stairs. At the front door, she peered out. The black van was still opposite. As she stood there, four men and a woman climbed down. It was time to leave.

She sauntered down the path as though she had no worries in the world. One of the men held open the gate for her, but no one spoke as she passed through. She presumed Ryan must have told them she wasn’t to be bothered.

Once past them, she picked up her pace and hurried down the road, expecting every second to be stopped. She took the first side road, in order to get out of sight and avoid bumping into either Jack or Piers, and then stopped and turned around.

The night was warm, and the scent of summer flowers drifted up from the gardens. She felt almost at peace. Hopefully she could contact Shera and set the meeting up sooner rather than later. She could get the Key back from Ryan, hand it over, and she’d be free.

Afterwards, she’d disappear. A momentary pang of regret hit her. She wasn’t sure what for, until an image of Piers Lamont rose up in her mind. Gorgeous and sexy and…probably wanting to kill her.

It was for the best.

She stood in the side road and watched as they led Jessica out and into the black van. It drove away, and she waited to see if anything else would go down, but the road remained quiet. She guessed Jack had picked up that something was wrong and changed his mind about coming home. Or whoever had been tailing him had finished him off. That would be nice, but way too convenient—things were never that tidy. But at least it meant that there would be a delay, hopefully a considerable one, before Jack discovered that his Key was missing. And by then, it would be safely in Asmodai’s hands, and she would be off somewhere warm and sunny with no demon to tell her what to do.

After half an hour, she decided the coast was probably clear, and she could head for home. She sauntered back toward the river. The streets were quiet, and she felt quite content as she strolled along. Jessica was safe, and she couldn’t believe what a weight that was off her mind. Just a little bit to offset all the bad things she’d done. Maybe she’d become a philanthropist, dedicate herself to doing good. Hey, she might even become a nun. She chuckled to herself, but the truth was she could become anything she desired. The world was her oyster, or her playground or…

She came out of her little daydream, to find herself confronted by two figures. For a second her heart stuttered; then she looked closer and realized they were nothing but young punks. Probably after her valuables, or her body.

They weren’t getting either.

One of them smirked at her. He couldn’t have been more that seventeen. What was the youth of today coming to?

She let her eyes drift down over them, very unimpressed. When she reached their faces, they were frowning as though she wasn’t behaving as anticipated. Well, what did they expect? She’d seen far worse than them already today—hell, she’d been bitten by a vampire only this morning. A couple of skinny punks weren’t going to spoil her mood.

“Hand us your cash,” the taller one said.

She smiled sweetly. “Just a moment.” Reaching behind her, she pulled the hunting knife from the sheath at the small of her back. It was a huge blade, the edge serrated, and she wrapped her fingers around the hilt and held it in front of her.

They took one look at the blade glinting in the streetlights and bolted.

Roz chuckled as she strolled on. The world was good.