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.”
“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.”
“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.
