Bittersweet Blood (The Order #1)

For a moment she had the urge to tell him she’d changed her mind. Beg him to take her with him. She bit down on her lower lip to stop the words coming out. She needed time alone—this close to Christian she couldn’t think.

The car pulled up in front of her apartment building. Christian got out without a word, and fetched her case from the trunk. Tara followed him out. Standing by the car, she breathed in the night air, crisp and dry after the dampness of Yorkshire.

“I’ll see you to the door,” Christian said. “There’s something I need to say before I leave you.”

She nodded and followed as he led the way. Suddenly cold, she huddled into her jacket and dug her hands into her pockets. Christian appeared unaffected by the temperature.

She let them into the building, up the stairs, and they both came to a halt in front of her door. He put down the case and turned to her.

“I’m leaving you here because you’re right. You need to come to terms with what we discovered tonight.”

In the back of her mind she’d harboured the secret hope that he would insist on taking her with him. That he wouldn’t be able to leave her behind. She berated herself for being so stupid.

“And you need to come to terms with what we did together tonight.”

A wave of heat washed over her. She fumbled for the right key. She couldn’t find it and rested her forehead against the cool wood of the door. A hand touched her shoulder, and Christian turned her toward him.

“Don’t think this is the end,” he said. “I’m expecting you to come to the right decision. You need to accept what you are.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but he put a finger to her lips. “I want you to be clear why I’m letting you go when everything screams that I should keep you close. You need time alone, and I believe you’ll be safe as long as you wear the talisman. Don’t take it off.”

Tara’s hand went to the chain at her throat. “That’s not all, is it?”

“I don’t want you anywhere near Piers. You’re still unmarked. He’ll see you as a threat.”

She shivered. “And do what?”

“He’ll do nothing. I won’t allow it, but it will be easier if I keep the two of you apart. However, I don’t like you here alone. I’m going to send some of my people over to watch over this place.”

“Vampires?”

“No not vampires. They’ll need to watch in the daytime as well. Demons prefer to hunt at night, but they can move around in the light of day.”

“Anything else?”

“Just one thing.” His voice was no longer expressionless, but dark and low; it caressed her sensitive ears, sending tremors down her spine.

“What?” she whispered.

“Something to help you come to the right decision.” He clasped her hands, slipped them inside his coat, and pressed them against his chest.

Beneath her palms, she felt the hardness of muscle and bone, and she curled her fingers into him.

He whispered in her ear, “Did you like what we did tonight? Did you like having me deep inside you?” One hand released hers and trailed over the small wound at her throat. At the touch of his fingers, that rhythmic tugging tightened the muscles of her belly.

“Here,” he whispered, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the small mark. His hand slipped between them, pushing between her thighs to cup her sex. “And here.”

Unable to prevent the instinctive movement, Tara pressed herself against his palm. She clutched the soft silk of his shirt and whimpered as his clever fingers moved against her, tormented her.

He stepped back. For a moment, she clung to him, and then her hands fell to her sides. He studied her, his gaze heavy with desire. “Let me know when you’d ready to finish this.”

Turning away, he walked back down the stairs and out of the front door. Tara ran to the window and stood, fists clenched, as he got in the car and drove away. She watched until the car disappeared into the night and she knew for certain that he wasn’t coming back.

She shook as she let herself into the apartment. The place was silent. There was no sign of Smokey although she opened all the doors calling to him. In the kitchen she found food set out, but no cat.

Smokey was probably out hunting on the heath, but she wished he was there. She could have done with his comforting warmth. Instead she curled up alone on her bed, hugging a pillow to her chest and trying not to think of Christian.

But when she finally slept, his image still filled her mind.





Chapter Sixteen


“Have I mentioned the fact that I hate the fucking fae?” Piers asked as they exited the elevator onto the open rooftop.

Christian ignored the comment. All his senses were alert, but the roof appeared deserted, and nothing moved in the shadows. He glanced at Piers. He’d been preoccupied with his own thoughts, but now, for the first time he noticed that Piers looked pissed.

“I mean,” Piers continued, “with a demon you know where you are, what to expect—”