Bittersweet Magic

bloody Asmodai and his Key.

She followed Piers Lamont into a sitting area; two huge black sofas dominated the room. He gestured to one of them, and she urged Maria over and gently pushed her down. Christian followed them and closed the door before leaning against it. He did that a lot. Laid-back but ready to move.

Sinking onto the sofa beside Maria, Roz smoothed her expression to blankness. She’d had a lot of time to think about what to say, and she’d decided to stick to the truth. Well, all except the minor detail that she wasn’t actually a nun.

“So?” Piers said. He’d taken a seat opposite her, his legs stretched out, booted feet resting on the coffee table in front of him. He appeared relaxed, arms resting along the back of the sofa.

“Mr. Lamont—”

“Call me Piers.”

“Mr. Lamont, last night our convent was attacked.”

“Attacked by whom?”

Roz was about to answer, when Maria beat her to it.

“By creatures from Hell.”

Piers raised an eyebrow, opened his mouth, and then closed it again as someone knocked on the door. It opened, and the young man from reception stepped inside carrying a tray. The divine smell of freshly brewed coffee filled her nostrils. Roz had to still her instinctive swoon toward him.

“I thought the sisters could do with some coffee.” A frown flickered across his face. “Do nuns drink coffee?”

“Yes,” she said quickly. If he took it away now she would probably scream.

He frowned at Piers, who grinned but removed his feet from the table so he could put the tray down.

Roz didn’t wait. She sat up and poured two cups of coffee, added cream and plenty of sugar, and handed the first to Maria. Her hands were shaking so much the cup rattled against the saucer. Roz pressed her fingers around the other woman’s, only letting go when she was sure the coffee wouldn’t be wasted.

She picked up her own, took a sip, and almost groaned. When she looked back, Piers was regarding her with amusement. “These creatures from Hell?” he prompted.

“They came last night,” Roz said. “To the convent while the sisters were sleeping. They were some sort of demonic beings.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“Well it stands to reason that if God exists, and”—she gestured to her robe—“I obviously believe that, then so does the devil and consequently Hell.”

“Very logical. Go on.”

“They killed them all. All except Sister Maria.”

“And yourself.”

“I wasn’t in my cell.”

“An assignation, perhaps? Meeting the priest behind the altar for a bit of fun?”

She gave him what she hoped was a stern expression. “I was praying.”

“Extra prayers. Did you have some wicked thoughts you shouldn’t have?”

She resisted the urge to throw her empty cup at him. Instead, she refilled it. The coffee had a wonderful, calming effect. She was beginning to relax. Obviously, Asmodai had told the truth—for once—and Piers Lamont couldn’t tell she was anything other than human. And if he’d bought her cover so far, and she was sure he had despite the teasing, then she was probably safe. Just give him the message, see if I can read anything into his reaction, and get the hell out of here.

“They brought Sister Maria to the church where I was praying.”

“What did they look like?”

She didn’t have to fake the shudder that ran through her. “They were monsters. Half-man, half-beast, with crimson eyes. All except their leader. He looked like a man.”

“Describe him.”

“He was tall, as tall as you. With dark hair and really green eyes—like emeralds.”

Shock flared on the handsome face and was gone. He obviously recognized the description.

“You know him?” Christian asked.

He pursed his lips. “I might. Let’s hear the rest of the story.”

“He sent the beasts down to the catacombs beneath the church. I think they were searching for something, and they found it.”

“Found what?”

“I don’t know,” she lied. “But it was small. One of them handed it to the man. He could hold it in his palm.”

“Then what happened?”

She glanced across to Sister Maria. This was going to be hard for her, but there was no help for it. “He tore Sister Maria’s habit and he cut her back. Said it was a message for Piers Lamont. He threw down a piece of paper with your address, and they all vanished.”

“Just vanished?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, let’s see this message.”

She wasn’t sure how Sister Maria would feel about stripping in front of a couple of strange men. Well, any men really, strange or otherwise.

“Sister Maria, we have to show this man the marks on your back. Then he can catch the ones who killed the sisters. You want them caught, don’t you?”

The blank expression faded and she nodded quickly. Her fingers moved to the long row of buttons that ran down the front of the robe, but they were trembling so hard that she couldn’t unfasten them. Roz brushed her hands away and undid the tiny black buttons. There were hundreds of them, or at least it seemed that way. When they were undone to the waist, she pushed the robe down over Maria’s shoulders, leaving her in the thin shift.

Piers rose to his feet. Maria went rigid in her arms, but didn’t pull away as he came to stand beside her. He hooked his finger in the thin material and ripped it to the waist, then stood gazing down, his expression blank. She was guessing deliberately so. He’d recognized the man, and he recognized the sign; Roz would bet her last cold beer on it.

“What is it?” Christian asked.

“I’m not sure.”

He was lying. Maybe because he didn’t want to talk in front of them; she couldn’t be sure. But she had an ear for these things.

He reached out with one finger and touched the mark, suspicion flaring in his eyes. “You said this was done last night. It’s almost healed.”

Shit. “I think the man did something to heal the cuts. Afterward.”

“That was nice of him, but a little out of character.”

“Maybe not. He didn’t know I was there. He believed Sister Maria would have to make it on her own.”

“And the two of you didn’t think to go straight to your superiors?”

“He said he would come after us if we didn’t deliver the message.”

“Hmmm.”

Roz wasn’t sure if he was convinced, but it would have to do. Now, to see if she could get something useful out of this meeting. “So, Mr. Lamont, do you know what it was they came for?”

His gaze shifted from Maria’s back to her face, and she was caught in the stare of those wicked blue eyes.

“No.”

Yeah, he was lying. “Do you know who they were?”

“No.”

Definitely lying. But there wasn’t any way she could make him tell her. And she wanted out of here. All she could do was tell Asmodai what had gone down and hope that he wouldn’t be too pissed off. Maybe