Piers: Probably not, but Jack could always manage to piss me off, so let’s be prepared.
Roz sat staring at the screen, but nothing else came up. She reckoned they’d left the room. No doubt, on their way to this meeting with Jack the vampire. Jack the other vampire. Was Christian a blood-sucker as well?
She had to decide what to do. Should she go along?
She read the conversation again while she tried to make up her mind.
So, Piers Lamont was not a nice man. And who was Tara? Was she totally deluded or just misguided?
She’d just decided to set off to the meeting place, but stay out of sight, when her cell phone rang. It was Ryan. They had a solid lead on the missing girl thanks to the picture she’d provided. He was heading over there now.
It took her only seconds to make the decision. Jack would be on his way to meet with Piers and Christian. It was perfect timing—she could help Ryan find the girl and maybe get a chance to search the place. If she got lucky, she might even find the Key. If he still had it in his possession, chances were he wouldn’t take it to any meeting with Piers.
She told Ryan to pick her up on the way through, closed up the laptop, and placed it on the table. Maria was still sleeping, and Roz tiptoed out of the room, pulled on her boots, grabbed her jacket, and left the apartment.
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—”
