Bittersweet Magic (The Order #2)

Piers had decided to start with Sister Maria. She was probably going to be easy to break. Not that he intended to break her, but he would get to the truth. He’d asked Jonas, the most powerful warlock employed by the Order, to sit in on the interrogation.

Jonas had the appearance of a frail old man, but Piers was quite aware that that was through personal choice—Jonas was a strong believer that being underestimated gave him an edge. Piers was also aware that the warlock had his own reasons for working with them, but as long as those reasons didn’t go in direct opposition to the requirements of the Order, Piers didn’t care.

Jonas’s particular strengths lay in divining the future and assessing the truth—he could usually tell if people lied—which made him very useful at interrogations. He also did a nifty line in blood charms, which was how he’d come to the attention of the Order. He’d made the charm that had kept Christian’s wife, Tara, safely hidden for more than twenty years.

It was believed that all witches and warlocks had fae blood somewhere in their ancestry, which was what gave them their powers. But unlike his little nun, there was no sweet scent of fae arising from the warlock. It made Piers wonder just how much fae blood Roz had, and what powers lay dormant inside her.

Or were they dormant?

The door opened, interrupting his thoughts. The older sister was ushered inside. Her scared gaze darted from him to Jonas and then over her shoulder to the door, as if she were contemplating doing a runner. He almost smiled—he could have told her that there was nowhere to run, but he doubted that would have a calming effect. Instead, he strode toward her.

“Look at me,” he said in a low, calm voice.

She swallowed but lifted her gaze to him.

He allowed his will to flow out, wrap around her mind, and the fear and panic receded from her eyes.

“Tell me what happened when the convent was attacked.”

She spoke slowly, not hesitating, the events unfolding exactly as they had been told the first time. Piers glanced at Jonas. The warlock gave a small nod—as far as he was aware, she was telling the truth, at least as she saw it.

When she’d finished, he gestured to one of the upright chairs. Once she sat, he took the seat opposite and considered what else to ask. He didn’t think the sister had any information of interest, or that she was hiding anything. She was exactly what she seemed. Which didn’t help him much.

“How long have you been with the Little Sisters of Mercy?” he asked.

“Eight years.”

“And how long have you known Sister Rosa?”

“She came to the convent two weeks ago.”

Ah, now that was more interesting. “From where?”

“I don’t know. I presume she was sent from the mother house and that she was seeking to get closer to God through our enclosed order. The convent was the only one remaining where the rules of enclosure were still strictly adhered to. And now the sisters are all dead.”

“Did you know her well?”

“No. We kept to ourselves.”

“And since then?”

“Sister Rosa has been nothing but kind to me. She is a good person.”

Piers had his doubts about that. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Sister Rosa was up to something. And maybe it was time to find out what. He rose to his feet and crossed to the door.

“Thank you, Sister.”

The guard was still stationed outside. “Take this one back and bring the other.”

He sat back down and pondered what could be going on. Was Sister Rosa somehow involved in the Andarta thing? Or was she just caught up in the whole mess by chance and actually had a totally different agenda? Right now, he was leaning toward the latter, but that was partly wishful thinking. He hated the idea she was involved.

They’d heard nothing from Jack. According to Carl, the police were still watching his house, so it was unlikely he’d go back there. And the girl was alive and recuperating. He only hoped Jack had made sure she wouldn’t remember anything.

One day in the not too dim and distant future, their kind was going to have to make itself known to humans. But not just yet.

He turned to Jonas. “The next one is interesting.”

“Really? In what way?”

“I don’t know, but I hope to find out. She has fae blood, but I’m certain she doesn’t know it. Just let me know if you pick anything up.”

“Will do. You have me intrigued now. Things have been a little slow around here lately.”

“Well, the good news is—that’s about to change.”

“It is? Oh, goody. Are you going to tell me how?”

“Isn’t that your job?”

Jonas opened his mouth to answer, just as the guard ushered Sister Rosa into the room. She stood inside the door, hands clasped in front of her, her eyes downcast. The room filled with her sweet scent. Beside him, he heard Jonas’s sharp indrawn breath. The warlock could sense it as well.