understand that?”
“Yes,” Christian replied. “You could say I made a similar deal myself. You don’t think I was born like this?” He grinned with a flash of fang and some of the tension seeped from her.
“I made a deal. I signed my life away until I had done thirteen tasks. In exchange, I got to live and I got revenge—he burned the village, killed them all, and afterward…”
She broke off, and Piers had an inkling of what had happened afterward. He decided then and there that if he ever got the chance, he would help her slice her demon into little pieces. He kept his thoughts to himself; this was a demon, after all. You could hardly expect civilized behavior. Tara was not so reticent.
“All demons are bastards,” she muttered.
“What about the fae?” Roz asked, her tone curious.
“They’re bastards as well. They just aren’t quite so obvious about it.”
“Tara is also half-fae,” Piers put in. “She’s not too fond of her family”
Roz studied her; Tara appeared human, but then so did she. “Oh. Well, I’ve always known I wasn’t particularly nice. Now at least I can blame it on my father.”
“It doesn’t matter who your father is,” Tara said fiercely. “You’re you. Just because your father is evil doesn’t mean you have to be as well.”
Well, Tara would have to think that, wouldn’t she—considering who her father was? “Go on,” Piers said. “What happened next?”
“I just went on. The years passed, and I tried to blend in, moving on before it became obvious I wasn’t aging. It was hard at first, but grew simpler as the world got bigger and traveling farther and faster became easier. Every so often I’d have to do one of the tasks—”
“What sort of tasks?” Jonas asked. “What is it you do?”
“Mostly, I find things—I’m good at it. I’m a Seeker. That’s what he called me.”
“No wonder he saved you, if he knew that. Very useful. But I’m betting there are other things you can do.”
“Really?” Now, she looked intrigued.
“You have at least half fae blood. But it’s not only that; it’s your human blood as well. We tend to think that humans have no magic, but it’s more truthful perhaps that it’s just been forgotten. When it’s combined with fae- blood, fae-magic, it can awaken.”
“How would I find out?”
Jonas rubbed his hands together. “There are tests we can do, things we can try—”
“Things you can try later,” Piers suggested.
“But—”
“Jonas isn’t going anywhere,” he interrupted her. “You can spend as long as you like playing, but first, finish the story.”
She pursed her lips, but then gave a casual shrug. “A few weeks ago, I was given my last task. The thirteenth. Complete that and I’d be free.”
“And the task was?”
“I had to find something hidden in the convent of the Little Sisters of Mercy. A Key, but I don’t know to what.” She paused and sipped her drink.
Christian glanced at him, one eyebrow quirked. He reckoned Christian was having the same notion he was. Which demon knew where the Key had been hidden all these years? He pushed the thought aside as Roz continued. “So I got myself in there. I’ve become very good over the years at acquiring new identities, becoming different people. I became Sister Rosa, did a bit of creative stuff with their records, and I was in.”
“Bet that was fun?”
She tossed him a dark look. “It was hell. But I did it, and I was going to be free at last. Then on the last night, this creep, Jack, breaks in there, kills all the nuns, and steals my Key.”
“So you had no clue what this Key did, what it could do? And you just planned on handing it over to some demon to use for who knows what purposes?”
At Christian’s words, she turned and glared. “Yes,” she hissed.
“You could have gone to someone for help.”
“Who? He told me that I was an abomination, that the Order of the Shadow Accords would kill me if they realized what I was. I know he lied about a lot of things, but did he lie about that?”
Christian shifted uncomfortably. “Well…”
“In part,” Piers said. “The Order probably wouldn’t touch you, but under the Accords, the fae have the right to kill any with mixed blood. They ignore the people like Jonas—they prefer to pretend they don’t exist, but someone with half fae blood…yeah, chances are the Walker might want you dead.”
“Great,” she muttered. “Who’s this Walker guy?”
“He’s an assassin. Nearly killed Tara, his own niece, a little while back. So I doubt he’d balk at killing you.” Piers grinned. “So, let’s not tell him.”
“Good idea. Anyway, I needed my Key back, and you were my only lead. I thought you might take me to it, and so here I am.”
Piers had the distinct impression that there was something, if not a few things, that she wasn’t telling them. But the story made sense. One thing he didn’t like was the coincidence in two people searching for this Key at the same time when it had been safely hidden for a thousand years. But maybe it wasn’t coincidence at all. He poured himself another drink and studied her. She was back to impassive, the emotion gone from her features. She appeared so young and innocent. It was hard to believe she was more than five hundred years old, had lived countless lives. She’d been under the protection of a demon all that time and yet still retained a sweetness that was palpable. Mind you, she could also drink like a fish and was as tough and fearless as anyone he’d ever met. He still couldn’t believe she’d been faking being under his control—though she hadn’t faked those orgasms or her near desperation earlier. She wanted him.
“Do you sleep with this demon?” He wasn’t quite sure where the question had come from, but he leaned forward, waiting for the answer.
“Mind your own goddamned business.”
“I’m guessing no, and you know why?”
“No, and I’d really rather you didn’t bother me with your pathetic theories.”
He ignored her. “Because, darling, you wouldn’t have come on to me quite so strongly if you weren’t so desperate.”
“Piers, you’re a pig.” It was Tara who spoke. Roz was too busy glaring at him.
Hell, he’d been called worse things.
The truth was he’d almost forgotten the others were still in the room.
Christian pushed back his chair and stood up. “I think it’s time we left.”
Roz glanced around as everyone rose to their feet except him. “So am I free to go?” she asked.
Piers opened his mouth to say no, but Christian beat him to it. “Why don’t you stay here for a while, at least. As a guest of the Order.”
“Well, I’ve not been too impressed by the
Christian glanced at him, one eyebrow quirked.
“She’s been in the cells.”
Christian shook his head. “Ever the gentleman.” He turned to Roz. “We have guest quarters above ground. They’re very comfortable.”
“And I’m not a prisoner. I can come and go?”
“Okay, I’ll stay.”
“I’ll show you to the guest quarters,” Tara said. “Get you settled in.”
Piers almost protested at that—he wanted to get her settled in—but Roz was looking a little dazed. Maybe she needed time to adjust to what was happening, and he had things to do. Trying to locate Andarta, for one.
