Bittersweet Magic (The Order #2)

“Can I come with you? I’m scared to stay here alone. These…people make me nervous.”


Very perceptive. Roz thought for a minute. But there was no reason why not. She could leave Sister Maria with Ryan while she met with Asmodai, or ask Ryan to bring her back here. He owed her a favor. Or there was another option. “Would you like me to sort out a car to take you to the mother house?” Ryan might know someone who would be willing to drive tonight. If this went down okay, Roz would be making herself scarce very quickly, and it might be best if the Sister Maria was safely away as well.

She looked unsure for a moment. Roz suspected the last few days had tested if not Maria’s belief in God, then her trust that he would keep her safe. But finally, she nodded.

“Okay,” Roz said, “but we have to wait for Ryan to call first.”

Her cell went off at that moment, and she glanced at the caller ID. Thank God. She could get this over and done with.

“Ryan, I need that thing I gave you. Can I come and pick it up?”

“It’s at home.”

“And where are you?”

“I’m at the London Bridge Hospital interviewing Jessica Thomas.”

“Pretty late for visiting hours.”

She could imagine his shrug. “She called in, said she was remembering—she’s been pretty unhelpful up to now.”

“So how long will you be there?”

“Actually, you could come and meet me, and we’ll go to my place from here.”

“Okay. There’s something else you could do for me. Sister Maria needs to get to Devon; would you know of someone who could drive her there?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, she’s feeling a little homesick for the convent.”

“I’ll make a few calls.”

“Thanks.”

They arranged to meet at the hospital outside the reception area; Ryan had an apartment not far from there. She had a couple of hours before she had to meet Asmodai. It was all working out perfectly.

…

“They’re heading out. Should we stop them?”

Piers stared into space for a moment. “No. Give them the illusion of freedom, but don’t lose them.”

He didn’t think she would run. They’d made a real connection last night. He’d liked walking with her, talking together. Always, in the past, he’d been a loner and kept his own counsel, but being with her had felt right. Maybe he was going soft. But if he was, he liked the feeling, and anticipated exploring it further.

All the same, connection or not, he wasn’t going to risk his little nun vanishing as he was sure she must be capable of. She’d lived for more than five hundred years and managed to stay invisible all that time. That required some talent.

So he’d have a couple of his men tail them. He’d had people watching the guest suite all through the day, but according to the reports, neither of the women had left the place. Now darkness had fallen and they were on their way out. But where?

His phone rang. It was Graham from reception.

“There’s a man on the phone. He says his name is Jack. He’d like to talk to you.”

“Really? You’d better put him through.”

He sat back in his chair, clasped his hands behind his head, and tried to guess what the hell Jack wanted. He hadn’t expected to hear from him again so soon.

What could he have to say that couldn’t have been said at their meeting?

“What have you done?” Jack snarled.

Fury. Pure, unadulterated fury. The emotion sizzled down the phone line. Something must have happened since they’d last met, and whatever it was had pissed Jack off. The girl had been found, but the loss of one donor was hardly going to have this effect.

“I don’t know. Are you going to give me a clue?”

“Where’s my fucking Key?”

“Your Key? The Key you stole from the convent?”

“You know what Key I’m talking about. Where is it?”

“Do you really think if I went to the bother of getting this Key from you, that I would calmly hand it back?”

“If you want to ally yourself with Andarta, you will.”

Maybe it was time to give Jack the good news. “Well, you see—here’s the thing. I don’t.”

Jack was silent for a minute. “You’d turn her down?”

“Oh, yeah.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Now, why don’t you calm down and explain just why you think I have this Key.”

Piers could hear ragged breathing on the other end of the phone. Rage wasn’t the only emotion Jack was feeling, but fear as well. Bordering on terror. Andarta was never one to take failure well, and he doubted two thousand years imprisoned in a tomb would have improved her disposition.

“You should have handed it over straight away,” he murmured.