Bittersweet Magic (The Order #2)

“Well, now you’ve had your bit of fun, could I get dressed?”


He shrugged. “Pity. That really is one ugly outfit but go ahead.”

She tugged the dress up her arms and held it together.

“So you were faking it all the time?”

She shrugged noncommittally.

“And you remember everything we did?”

“Well, I don’t remember me doing much, but yeah, I remember you sucking my blood, if that’s what you mean. Ugh!”

“Ugh? From what I remember, you enjoyed it a lot—both times.”

She gave him a scornful glance and sniffed. “I was pretending.”

“Of course you were.” The words came out as a rough purr that sent shivers running down her spine. “Would you like to pretend some more?”

Heat washed over her at his question, flushing through her body before settling low down in her belly. A little pulse started its insistent throb between her thighs, and she glanced away. Her hands fisted at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to bring her unruly body under control.

What was it about this man that affected her so badly? He was gorgeous, but she’d met gorgeous men before and they hadn’t made her lose her common sense or her grip on reality. Hadn’t made her forget everything but the urge to push him back against the wall and rub up against him like a cat in heat. Her breasts responded to the idea, her nipples tightening, sending darts of sensation shooting down to her groin. She’d rip that T-shirt from his body…

Someone coughed, and she looked up to find Jonas watching her. She shifted her gaze to the vampire, her eyes narrowing at the amused quirk on his lips, only slightly mollified as her gaze clashed with his. She recognized her own hunger reflected and magnified in the midnight blue depths.

“So, should I leave you two alone for a moment?” Jonas asked.

“Yes,” Piers said.

“No,” she snapped. She made a concerted effort to relax, her fingers uncurling, the tension oozing out of her shoulders, leaving her a little shaky. Too much had happened over the last few days. She was struggling to take it all in. But even if the Order didn’t automatically kill people like her, she also knew they weren’t necessarily on her side. Her only hope of living her own life, free from coercion, was to get Asmodai off her back. To do that she had to finish the tasks, and that meant handing him the Key.

What did he want with it? Piers had told Christian that the Key opened the portals between worlds. All worlds. But while Asmodai might be a lying bastard, she didn’t believe he was truly evil. He was a demon, and she’d come to see that he viewed the world, and the whole morality thing, differently from most people. All the same, she was pretty sure he wasn’t some megalomaniac monster intent on taking over the world and subjugating the whole human race. But what did she know? He’d successfully managed to lie to her for five hundred years. Could she really believe anything he said?

But what else could she do? She had to contact him to tell him she had the Key, so maybe she could ask. Of course, he had an irritating habit of ignoring her questions, but at least she would have tried. She bit her lip. How many times had she used that excuse over the centuries?

First, though, she somehow had to persuade these people that she wasn’t a threat, that they could let her go. How likely was she to succeed at that?

She looked up to find both of them watching her. “I don’t suppose you have something to drink around here?” She frowned. “Do you lot even drink?”

“Us lot?” Piers asked, amusement clear in his tone.

“You know, blood-sucking monsters. Or do you just drink blood?”

“We drink.”

“That’s a relief. Well, get me a drink, and I’ll tell you everything I can.”

“We could just make you.”

“What? You’d torture a nun?” He just stared at her, and she shrugged. “Yeah, you could, but it’s been done before, and I’m stubborn, and it would be long and drawn out and messy.” She tried her sweetest smile, the one that showed her dimples. “Wouldn’t a little drink be easier?”

His gaze narrowed on her lips, then he shrugged and turned to Jonas. “Go get something, would you? Any preferences?” he asked Roz.

She realized this would leave her alone with Piers but hopefully not long enough to lose her precarious hold on her control and physically attack him. And she needed a drink. “Scotch, if you have it.”

“I’m sure I can find some somewhere. Be good while I’m gone.” Jonas hesitated at the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll knock.”

She cast him a filthy look. “Hah-hah.”