Bittersweet Magic (The Order #2)

“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.”

Shrugging, he stepped back while she scrambled out, still clutching her robe in front with one hand, her bag with the other. The second sister climbed out behind her.