Bittersweet Magic (The Order #2)

The robe she’d worn the previous night was thrown over one of the chairs, and she pulled that on. But she needed clothes; she would have to sort that out tomorrow. They’d said she wasn’t a prisoner, so maybe she could go shopping. But in what?

There was no sound from Sister Maria’s room as Roz stumbled through into the lounge. But she did find a suitcase sitting by her bedroom door. Her suitcase. Anger flashed through her—she hated the idea of someone pawing through her things. But the anger didn’t last long. She had clothes. Proper clothes. After dragging the case into the bedroom, she opened it and tipped the contents onto the bed.

She found jeans, panties and a tank top, and got dressed. The tank top revealed the sigil, but they had already seen it so that was no problem. She felt almost human by the time she was finished, and she grinned at herself in the mirror. Almost human was as close as she was going to get.

…

Graham was at the reception desk when the elevator opened—though it wasn’t Graham who brought the scowl to her face. Piers lounged against the wall, next to the elevators, arms folded across his chest, a slight smile curving his lips.

“Tell me this is a coincidence,” she muttered. His smile broadened, and she glanced down at herself. “You haven’t got me bugged, have you?”

His lips twitched. “Now there’s an idea. Actually, I told Graham to monitor the elevator from the penthouse.” He pushed himself up from the wall. “Going somewhere?” he asked.

She shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner. “I need some fresh air. I feel like I’ve been cooped up in a cell all day.” She pursed her lips. “Hey, guess what—I have been cooped up in a cell all day.”

Piers laughed. “I could use some fresh air myself.”

She needed to ease the tension in her brain, not increase it, and he was hardly relaxing company. “I won’t go anywhere.” She put her hand on her chest. “Nun’s honor.”

He laughed again. He had a nice laugh. Sexy as hell. The sound sent little frissons skittering down her spine. Maybe if he could refrain from talking and just give the odd sexy laugh, she might manage to put up with him. “Okay, you may come with me, but only on the condition that you don’t ask any more questions. Because I won’t answer.”

He considered her briefly. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

She looked him over; he was wearing his long, leather trench coat. “You know, it’s July. You probably don’t need the coat.”

He held it open to reveal a positive arsenal of weapons underneath. She counted at least three guns. Would he give one of them to her if she asked nicely?

“Okay, point made. But do you actually need all those weapons?”

“Yes. There might be demons out there.”

“Another good point. Right, let’s move it.”

He led her out of the main doors and paused for a moment. “Anywhere you’d like to go?”

“To the river. I love the river.”

She cast him a sideways glance as they strolled along toward the embankment. “So if you see a demon, you shoot it?”

“Mostly.”

“Seems a little harsh.”

“Most of them are low grade demons. It’s actually easier for the less powerful to slip through the gaps between worlds. They know the rules, they choose to break them, and they take the consequences. And while they have little power, they do have an enormous ability to cause havoc. And most have some exceedingly anti-social habits.”

“Like what?”

“You really don’t know much, do you?”

“Actually, I know a lot. I know how to fly a plane and sail a boat. I can speak thirty seven languages, I’m a certified diver, I’ve—”

He held up a hand. “Okay, I was wrong. But you know nothing about our world.”

“So teach me.”

“Honey, there are so many things I’d like to teach you, but the anti-social habits of lesser demons is pretty low down on the list.”

She ignored the innuendo. “Okay, tell me about the fae instead.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“That won’t take long. The fae can be summed up in two words…they’re assholes.”

“Come on, tell me. Pretty please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

He talked in his low, rich voice of times long past, before the Shadow Accords. He described the beauty of the Faelands, the sweet taste of fae blood, the wars that had nearly torn the Earth apart.

She realized she could listen to him forever. His words mesmerized her as his mind powers had not. They reached the river and strolled along the embankment, breathing in the scents and watching the lights glint on the oily black water. Occasionally, they would pass a homeless person, curled up sleeping. When they passed one man awake, a brindle dog at his side, Piers reached into his pocket and tossed him some coins.

“I like dogs,” he said when she cast him a surprised glance.

They must have walked for hours, but finally he halted, raised his head, and sniffed the air. “We have to go back. Dawn will be here soon.”

“Do vampires really go up in a puff of smoke in the sunlight?”

“Younger vamps—yes. I’d just get a really bad case of sun burn.”