“I’d like to. And I can answer your questions on the way.”
She took a couple of steps out, but came to a halt, and glanced around. “You know we were talking about those government-issue cars. Well they’re exactly like these. You don’t work for the government, do you?”
“No.” He headed for the nearest vehicle, opening the door for her. The keys were in the ignition and he got in next to her and turned on the engine then sat back while she punched her address into the sat nav.
As he pulled out of the parking garage, he caught the gleam of red eyes in the shadows of the alley opposite. Ash ignored them and they drove on in almost comfortable silence. He cast a sideways glance. She was staring out of the window but turned to him as if she could sense his gaze.
“I love the city at night,” she said.
“Do you come from London?”
“No. I was born up north, but I’ve lived here since I was twelve.”
“What happened when you were twelve?”
For a few seconds he thought she wasn’t going to answer. Then she seemed to give a mental shrug. “My mother died, and I was put into foster care. I wasn’t doing so well and they thought a change of scenery might help me forget.”
He could sense something dark behind her words. Was this the thing that had changed her, made her what she was? “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.”
“Some wounds never heal.”
He could sense her stare in the dim light. “Do you really believe that?”
Did he? If she’d asked him a year ago—before he’d found Tara—he would have said no. He hadn’t been able to even think about Lily without being engulfed in a black rage—not good for a demon. He still felt the stab of pain in his heart at the thought of her. He’d never loved before Lily. And he never would again.
But recently, he’d started thinking about her—remembering the good times—without the taint of darkness. Maybe he was healing. Even being here with this woman now, proved that.
Because he wanted her. His cock jerked at the thought and he pushed the urge down. He wanted her, but he had no illusions she would be a pushover.
No doubt, he could possess her mind long enough to make her believe she wanted him in return. But he’d rather she came to him of her own free will. Much more satisfying. And it wasn’t as though he didn’t have the time.
“Maybe not,” he said.
“Anyway, aren’t you supposed to be telling me about Christian Roth?”
He shrugged. “There’s not a lot to tell.” Actually, there was, but not a lot they were allowed to tell. It occurred to him to wonder why this organization was investigating Christian and not Piers who’d been head of the Order for the last twenty-odd years. Maybe it was because Christian had chosen to live among men. He’d probably been too successful. “Christian is a businessman. A good one.”
“You make him sound almost boring. Does he carry a gun?”
His lips twitched as he thought about the double shoulder holster, the sawed-off shotgun, and the knives. Christian had been a little jumpy about the whole angel thing. Not surprising; Tara was vulnerable, or had been before he had given her the talisman. She was half demon but had grown up believing herself human and had no clue how to use her demonic powers or any other weapons to protect herself.
“Sometimes,” he replied. “He does business in some dangerous places.”
“What sort of business?”
“All sorts. Investment, property, security—that’s the section Ryan and I work for.”
“Ryan said they were recruiting?”
“Some. We have a major initiative going down. For the right sort of person it could be a great opportunity.”
“And do you think I’m the right sort of person.”
He pulled up at the side of the road. They’d arrived. He shifted in his seat to face her. In the light from the streetlamps, her skin glowed. She’d been chewing on her lower lip and it was red, her eyes silver. He wanted to close the distance between them and taste her, but he reckoned she’d run.
“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “But I’d like to find out.”
She licked her lips and a stab of lust shot through him.
“You would?”
…
Why the hell had she said that? She was fucking flirting. Flirting with Mr. I-Carry-a-Huge-Gun-Gang-Leader type. She never flirted. And if she had, it wouldn’t have been with someone like him.
She’d spotted the edges of a tattoo when he’d taken his coat off and had been trying to see if it was gang related while appearing not to stare.