Bittersweet Magic (12 page)

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Authors: Nina Croft

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Paranormal, #Series, #Romance

BOOK: Bittersweet Magic
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Piers stepped to the door but hesitated, a frown forming on his face. “Invite me in,” he growled.

For a brief moment, she considered ignoring the request. Weren’t vampires supposed to be unable to enter a home without an invitation? But she had no proof that the two other men were even vampires—there would be nothing to stop them breaking down her door, and she didn’t want things to get nasty. She’d bluffed her way out of bad situations before. She could do it again. Maybe.

“Come in,” she said grudgingly and stepped aside.

Piers strode by her, followed by Christian, who gave her a grin as he passed—she was glad someone was finding this amusing. But the expression settled her nerves a little. The two other men stayed out in the hallway. She followed Piers into the living room and studied him while he looked around.

“Go check if there’s anyone else here,” he said to Christian.

Christian nodded and started opening the doors to the other rooms. She had her back to him but she knew when he reached Maria’s because there was a little squeak. Quite restrained, really.

Roz whirled around as Christian appeared in the doorway, his hand around Maria’s upper arm as he ushered her into the living area.

“Roz, what’s happening?” Maria sounded close to panic.

“Hey, leave her alone,” Roz said. “She’s a goddamn nun.”

Piers’ eyes narrowed on her. “Is she?” His gaze left her to drift down over Roz in her habit. She glanced down and realized that half the buttons were undone, revealing the black lace of her bra. She pulled the edges together and glared at him even as the heat flushed through her. Was he still hungry? She felt a twinge of pleasure in her belly at the memory of what he’d done to her. How it had made her feel.

“And what about you, Sister Rosa?” he murmured. “Or is it Roz?”

She pursed her lips. “What about me? I may be having a brief crisis of faith right now, but Maria’s the real thing, so leave her alone.”

Christian released her.

“Go sit on the sofa,” Roz said. “These…gentlemen will be gone in a few minutes.”

“Don’t count on it,” Piers muttered.

She strolled across the room and picked up her mug of coffee, took a sip, tried to appear nonchalant. “So what brings you here? Barging in on two poor defenseless women in the middle of the night.”

“I want to know why you lied.”

“About what?”

“You told us you were going to the mother house.”

“So? Is that a crime? We are going to the mother house… tomorrow. It’s in Devon, and we were too tired. They keep this apartment for any of the sisters who have to stay in London.”

“I don’t believe you.”

She didn’t blame him; it was a pathetic story.

“You might as well tell us now. We have ways of making you talk.”

Roz rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe you just said that. That is so corny.”

“Maybe so, but it’s also true. Why don’t you sit down with your friend over there and we’ll be with you in a minute.”

Roz plunked herself down on the sofa and glared as Piers and Christian started a methodical search of the place. She was so glad she had given Ryan the Key.

Maria’s hand slid into hers, and she clutched tight at her fingers. Roz gave her a reassuring squeeze and tried to think what her next move should be. At least she’d contacted Shera—so Asmodai would hopefully guess she had his Key. If he believed that, he might make some effort to get her out of the Order’s clutches before they found out what she was and killed her.

Could they find out? A flicker of excitement burst into life deep inside her. What was she? Piers had said she had fae blood—but what did that mean? Maybe he would tell her before he killed her. Despite the danger, she felt as though she was on the edge of something wildly exhilarating.

Piers had vanished into her bedroom. Christ, was he searching in there? She was trying not to think about what he might find when he appeared at the door, a smirk on his face, her vibrator clutched in his hand. For a second, she closed her eyes. Unfortunately, when she opened them, he was still there.

“Now what would a nun do with this?” he asked.

“One of the sisters must have left it. The spirit is strong but the flesh is often weak, Mr. Lamont. We shouldn’t judge others.”

“And why was your hat in the bin?”

Her horrible headdress was dangling from his other hand. “I must have dropped it in my hurry to answer the door.” She kept her tone serene, but it was an effort, and he didn’t look convinced.

Her eyes narrowed as he put the vibrator into the inside pocket of his jacket and tossed the headdress back in the bin before disappearing into her bedroom. A second later, he emerged waving the file on Jessica Thomas, and she swore under her breath.

“Where did you get this?” he asked, flipping through the file.

She shrugged. “It was already here. One of the other—”

“Sisters must have left it,” Piers finished for her. “Why do I find that hard to believe, Sister Roz?”

“I have no idea, Mr. Lamont.”

Christian came back at that moment. “Nothing in here.”

“Okay, we’ll take them back to the Order, question them there. I don’t think it will take much to get them to talk.”

Maria whimpered, and Roz glared at him. “We’re not going anywhere with you. Just leave and we’ll come in the morning and tell you everything.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said, repeating his earlier words, and Roz glowered.

Christian came to stand in front of her. “No harm will come to either of you at the Order, Sister. You have my word.”

Staring into his grey eyes, she found no guile, no secret agenda, and she was pretty certain she could trust him. Her glance flicked to Piers. He was scowling at Christian, but he didn’t counteract the promise. “Okay.” She turned to Maria. “Come on, we have to go with them, Maria. But we’ll be safe.”

Maria’s huge eyes blinked up at her, but she nodded, took a deep breath, and rose to her feet. “God will protect us.”

Piers snorted in obvious amusement.

“No,” Roz replied, “but Christian Roth will. He won’t go back on his word.” She glanced at Christian. “Can I take my things?”

He shrugged. “Why not?”

Roz grabbed her bag and shoved in her cell phone. She considered the laptop for a moment. There was a risk that they might take it from her and find the bugging program. In the end, she decided that the chance of hearing something useful outweighed the risk, and she slipped it into the bag. “Let’s get this over with, and maybe we can come back and get some sleep.”

Christian headed for the door, but when Roz made to follow, Piers stopped her with a hand on her arm. A shiver ran through her body from the point of contact. “Wait,” he said.

Christian was at the door, but he turned as Piers spoke.

“Take Sister Maria down,” Piers said. “We’ll catch you up.”

Christian frowned. “Piers?” She heard the warning in his tone.

Piers just grinned. “She’s not at the Order yet, and I’m still hungry. You know how I get ratty when I’m hungry.”

Christian looked for a moment longer then shrugged. “Don’t take too long and make sure she remembers nothing.”

“Of course.”

Roz watched them disappear. Sister Maria gave her one last look, and Roz tried to smile reassuringly before the door closed behind them. She stood, biting her lip, before she forced herself to turn back to the vampire.

God, he was hot. The leather pants molded to his long legs and lean hips. The black T-shirt to his broad shoulders beneath the leather trench coat. She forced her gaze upward to meet his wicked blue eyes and the muscles in her belly clenched.

“Come here, Sister.”

Oh shit, he was doing that mesmerizing thing. He was going to bite her again. Why did her traitorous body tighten at the thought? Oh God, she wanted this. Her feet edged towards him almost as if she was in thrall. When she stood close enough to touch, he reached out and stroked a finger down her throat, hooked in the neckline of her robe, and ripped downward. The robe gave way, showering tiny buttons across the floor, and she had to force herself not to react.

Think “mesmerized,” she told herself and blinked a few times.

He parted the material. “Nice,” he murmured as he slipped his hands inside and cupped her breasts in the black lace. He rubbed over her nipples, and pleasure shot to her groin, turning her instantly hot and wet.

“Is the vibrator yours?” he asked. “I’d like to see that sometime. But right now, we don’t have the time.”

Turning her in his arms, he pulled her back against the long length of his body and she felt the inhuman strength of him. With his hands still on her breasts, he lowered his head and nuzzled her throat.

She peered down as his long fingers tugged at her nipples. Her legs went weak. As she sagged, one arm wrapped around her waist to hold her upright, then his fangs grazed her throat just before he sank them deep into her flesh. His free hand glided down over her belly while he sucked her blood. It shouldn’t have felt so good. But it did.

As he got into a rhythm, the tug of his lips mirrored the throbbing pulse between her thighs. She heard a whimpering and knew it came from her throat but couldn’t prevent it. She was so close. His fingers slid beneath the lace of her panties, through the curls, and found the sweetest spot. As soon as he lightly touched the swollen bud she came in a rush so intense, she screamed. He held her easily, massaging her clit as he drank, and the pleasure washed over her in waves.

She realized through a fog of pleasure that he’d stopped drinking, and his hand was gone from between her legs. She hung limp in his arms as he licked the side of her neck, kissed her once, and turned her in his arms.

He sucked his finger, and she felt it as a spasm in her belly. Oh god, he was sexy.

“You taste delicious, Sister. But now, we’d better get out of here.”

She didn’t think she could move. In fact, she wasn’t sure she would ever walk again. He considered her for a moment and then chuckled, grabbed her around the upper arms and threw her over his shoulder.

But at least he picked up her bag on the way out.

Chapter Eight

Piers tossed her in the back seat and climbed in beside Christian.

“Everything okay?” Christian asked.

“Oh, yeah.” He could feel the buzz of her blood in his system. So sweet. So powerful. His little nun was addictive stuff; he might have to keep her around for a while. At least until he’d gotten to the bottom of whatever it was she was up to.

He peered over his shoulders as Christian pulled onto the road. In the light from the street lamps, he could see her clearly. Her hands gripped the front of her dress, and his cock twitched as he remembered the bounty hidden beneath the heavy, shapeless robes. She was all woman, with full breasts and a tiny waist above the curve of her generous hips. And she was so responsive. He could still scent the perfume of her arousal on the air.

What sort of nun wore black lace underwear?

He was looking forward to finding out.

As though she could sense his regard, her lashes flickered open, and she caught his gaze. She blinked a couple of times, then closed her eyes again and turned her face away.

He stifled a yawn. It was three in the morning. Dawn came early at this time of year, and while he no longer had to sleep through the daylight hours, he functioned better if he did. And he needed to function to the best of his abilities if he was going to get the better of Andarta for a second time. The first time he had tricked her, taken her by surprise. She’d known he loved her and hadn’t expected treachery from him. Despite what she’d done.

For a brief moment, he considered the possibility of going back to her. Ruling at her side. But there was no way. He was a different person. While he would never under any circumstances consider himself a good man, he’d come to accept that he wasn’t evil either. He’d taken a long time to realize that, but now he had a code of ethics he lived by and lines that he wouldn’t cross.

The truth was, he’d done worse things as a human than he had as a vampire. How many had he sacrificed to appease the gods he now knew to be nothing more than myth and legend?

There were only a couple of hours of nighttime remaining. He’d put the nuns in the cells for the day—they might be more willing to talk freely after a few hours of imprisonment. He also needed to talk to Carl and find out what had gone on with Jack. He’d had a quick call to say that he’d followed him back to the Isle of Dogs, but that the police had staked out the house and Jack had made himself scarce. Piers had told Carl to stay at the house, see if he could get a chance to search the place once the police finished. It was unlikely, but maybe Jack had hidden the Key there. Without the Key, Andarta’s movements would be limited even after she had regained her full power.

They pulled into the parking garage beneath the Order. Christian turned to him, the engine still running. “I’m heading home,” he said. “Will you be okay?”

Piers glanced at him. “What? You think I can’t handle a couple of nuns?”

“I was thinking more of this Jack character.”

“I doubt we’ll see him or hear from him again tonight,” Piers answered. “I’m just going to have a talk with Carl and call it a night.”

“What about those two?” Christian waved a hand to the rear of the car. Piers followed his gaze. Sister Rosa or “Roz” or whatever her name was, was sitting upright now, her eyes wide open, though they narrowed when she caught him watching her. The other sister was slumped with her head on Sister Rosa’s shoulder, her eyes closed.

“We’ll put them somewhere safe tonight and interrogate them tomorrow.” He used the word
interrogate
on purpose. Hopefully, they would think about it through the long day. It might soften them up for the evening.

The thing was, he couldn’t for the life of him think of what their story could be. How did Sister Rosa fit into all this? Was she a real nun? He was beginning to believe it was doubtful. Though the other was obviously the real thing, and she believed Sister Rosa. He shook his head. No doubt, he would find out tomorrow night.

He climbed out of the vehicle, opened the back door, and reached inside to pull her out. She snatched her arm away. “I can manage.”

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