Bittersweet Magic (The Order #2)

Roz glowered at him. “And you didn’t think it would be useful for me to know that? That the information might just possibly have kept me alive?”


“I had no real worries on that score—you’re a born survivor. Besides, while I was aware someone was looking, I didn’t expect he would find it.”

“So how did he?”

Asmodai considered her for a moment. “The Key’s exact hiding place was passed down to each Mother Superior, though they didn’t know the significance. Shortly before I approached you, I found out that the current holder of that position had died without passing on the information.”

She remembered now. He’d told her the person who knew the whereabouts of the Key had died. However, he’d failed to mention it was the Mother Superior of the convent. “Some more information might have helped me if you’d told me a little earlier. I would have been on my guard.” Might have even taken that gun—not that it would have helped much against a hoard of demons.

He shrugged. “The death was sudden and the timing unfortunate, but the circumstances weren’t suspicious.”

She had no clue whether he believed that, so she continued with her story.

“You went to the Order?” he asked when she got to the part about coming to London.

“Well, I didn’t know it was the Order at the time. And I got out of there as quickly as possible.”

Finally, she sat back, exhausted.

Asmodai got up and wandered out of the room. He came back a minute later, carrying her scotch and two glasses. He poured them both a drink and handed her one. She took it with a frown.

“Have you been taking classes?” she asked.

“Classes?”

“How to overcome your demon tendencies and become Mr. Affability—or something similar.”

He laughed. Which was weird in itself.

“So what did you think of Piers Lamont?” he asked.

“That he was an arrogant asshole.”

His lips curled up in a slow smile. “An accurate assessment. But a handsome arrogant asshole, perhaps?”

“You think so? Well, you’re welcome to him. Enjoy.”

He chuckled. “I don’t think he’d have me. We haven’t always agreed in the past, though I helped the Order out recently, and you could say we now have family ties.” He smiled almost reminiscently. “You say Christian Roth was there?”

“He was.”

“Did he appear…well?”

She didn’t understand the question, so she shrugged. “I suppose.”

He sipped his drink and stared at the ceiling. Roz held her breath while she waited.

“You’re going to have to go back,” he said eventually.

“Go back where?” She was being purposefully slow, but she didn’t want to go back. Or maybe she did, but she knew she shouldn’t. An image of Piers Lamont in all his black leather gorgeousness flashed in her mind, and the muscles low down in her belly clenched.

“Why, Rosamund, I do believe you’re excited at the prospect of seeing Mr. Lamont again.”

“No, I’m not,” she replied automatically. She hated, really hated, that he could read her so well. “And I don’t want to go back. You said they would kill me.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not straight away.”

“Hah-hah.” She swallowed the last of her drink and held out the glass for more. “Well, that’s comforting. Not.”

But even as she argued, she realized she was going back. She remembered her vision. Jack was the key to finding the missing girl, and she was running out of time. Piers Lamont knew who Jack was; she would bet her last drop of scotch on that.

“Do you know what they are?” Asmodai’s question broke into her thoughts.

“Who?”

“Piers Lamont and Christian Roth.”

“I have no idea.” But excitement uncurled inside her. It was so very rare that Asmodai would tell her anything about the world he inhabited, the one she lived on the fringes of.

“Well, chances are you’ll discover that for yourself.”

Damn! He was one irritating demon. And he knew it. She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to calm down. “You could always tell me. It would be nice to know what I was confronting…this time.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough. Piers was never one for personal restraint.”

She sighed loudly. He wouldn’t tell her, however much she asked, and she wouldn’t waste her time playing that game, so she satisfied herself with glaring at him. Unfortunately, looks couldn’t kill. At least not this particular demon—or he’d have been dead long ago.

Asmodai got to his feet and put his glass on the bedside table. He pulled something small out of his pocket and placed it next to the glass. “I doubt he’ll tell you anything. So that’s a bug. Hide it somewhere in Lamont’s office. I’ll get Shera to drop off the software. Find out what he knows and where my Key is.”