Bittersweet Magic (The Order #2)

By the time Roz reached home, it was after two in the morning. The apartment was quiet and in darkness, but Maria popped her head out of her bedroom as Roz collapsed on the sofa.

“Is everything okay?” Maria asked.

“Fine.” She grinned. “In fact, everything is great.” Though it occurred to her that she was going to have to break the news that she was leaving soon and it was time for Sister Maria to return to the convent. Tomorrow would be soon enough for that.

“You look tired,” Maria said. “Would you like me to make some coffee?”

What she really craved was her bed, but she needed to contact Shera first—set things in motion. And also check the bug. See what was going down at the Order. Whether they had heard about Jessica being found, and whether it mattered to them. “Yeah, I’d love a coffee.”

Grabbing her laptop, she sat cross-legged on the sofa waiting for it to power up. After sending an email to Shera, she opened the program, and a whole load of conversation filled the screen.

She read it quickly, knowing she would go back and read more slowly, but right now, she was fascinated. In the last couple of days, she’d learned more about the supernatural world than in the previous five centuries. But when she got to the mention of Asmodai, she stopped and reread. She could feel her eyes going round in amazement.

Asmodai was Christian Roth’s father-in-law.

The idea was staggering. That meant Asmodai had a daughter? Somehow, she couldn’t imagine it. Did he love her? He had certainly never mentioned her in all the time Roz had known him.

She continued reading. Until she got to the end, and shock closed down her mind for long seconds.

“Holy shit. Bugger. Crap.”

Maria placed a mug of coffee on the table in front of her, and the movement brought Roz back to herself. She blinked and slammed the laptop closed.

“What is it?” Maria asked.

“We have to get out of here.”

“Why? What’s happened?”

“Nothing…yet. But we have to leave. Now.”

A fist pounded on the door.

Too late.

Roz glanced from Maria to the door, her mind working furiously. What to do? Go hide under the bed and pretend they weren’t here? Or let them in and plead ignorance?

Much as she liked the hiding under the bed option, she wasn’t sure they would take the hint and go away. No, she’d have to call their bluff. She peered down at herself and for the first time ever, wished she were wearing the habit. Did she have time to put it on?

The knock came again, louder. More insistent.

“Just a minute,” she shouted toward the door. “Maria, get in your room and don’t come out unless I say.”

“What is it? Are they back? Is it the man from the convent?”

“No. I think it’s the people we met in London. They’ve probably just got a few more questions for us. It’s nothing to worry about. I’ll deal with it.”

Christ, she was a good liar.

But Maria’s face cleared of the panic, and she nodded. As she disappeared into her bedroom, Roz ran for her own, stripping off her clothes as she went. She dragged the dreaded habit out of the bin—again—and tugged it on over her panties and bra—no time for nun-like underwear. They were banging at the door again—no time for the headdress either—but then she wasn’t likely to have been wearing that in bed anyway. This would have to do. She still had her heeled boots on as well, but as long as they didn’t peek under her habit, no one should notice. And no one was going to peek under her habit. Were they?

She ran a hand through her hair and gave herself a quick glance in the mirror on her way out. Shit, she was wearing makeup—what sort of nun wore make-up to bed? Maybe they wouldn’t notice. Maybe they didn’t know anything about nuns. Except Asmodai had said Piers had had a thing for nuns. The pervert.

Taking a deep breath, she walked slowly to the door. When she opened it, Piers had his hand raised to bang again.

She faked a yawn, covering her face with her hand. “Mr. Lamont? It’s the middle of the night. What are you doing here?”

He stared down at her. A long way down—why did he have to be so tall? Or rather, why did she have to be so short? His eyes narrowed as he examined her small, bristling figure.

“What?” she said belligerently. She took another deep breath—belligerence was not going to help right now. “How can I help you?” she said, her tone conciliatory.

“Sister Rosa, have we caught you at a bad time?” It wasn’t Piers, but the man behind him who spoke, his tone tinged with amusement. It was Christian Roth, Asmodai’s son-in-law. She hadn’t noticed him until that point. And behind him two more men, both huge, bursting with muscle, and dressed in black leather. They’d brought a goddamn army, for two little nuns.

“Yes,” she snapped. “I don’t suppose you’d consider going away. Perhaps you could come back in the morning.” Yeah right, like that was going to happen. The blood-suckers would be tucked up in their coffins by then.