Bittersweet Magic (The Order #2)

She peered up as he halted the car beside her, and his eyes narrowed. She’d been in some sort of a fight, her lower lip swollen and her right cheek grazed. He had a sudden urge to find whoever had done it and tear them apart. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down and think rationally.

He leaned across and pushed open the passenger door. She stood up slowly, as though something hurt but not too badly. She was dressed as she had been for their walk last night, in tight jeans, low on her hips, and a black sleeveless vest stretched over her full breasts. The vest stopped short of the jeans, leaving a strip of skin bare at her mid-riff. It also showed off the demon’s sigil.

“You all right?” he asked as she climbed in, her movements stiff.

“I’m fine.”

“You look like you’ve been in a fight.”

She managed a weak grin. “You should see the other guy.”

“So what are you doing here?”

For a moment, she didn’t seem to understand the question, then she glanced at the building behind them. “The hospital? Oh, it wasn’t for me. I was just visiting a friend.”

“And where’s your other friend, Sister Maria?”

She shrugged. “She decided to return to the mother house, in Devon. I was helping her sort out a car and driver.”

“She couldn’t wait until morning?”

“She didn’t want to. It’s been a hard few days for her. She needed to be among friends.”

That sort of made sense. It didn’t explain why they’d had to give his men the slip. If she’d just asked, he would have arranged for a car and driver. It pissed him off that she hadn’t come to him for help. It also didn’t explain who she had been fighting with and why. And he had a feeling she wasn’t going to tell him.

“Do you have the Key?” he asked.

“No.”

Well that was definite. He decided to leave it for now. She’d rested her head back, and her eyes were closed. In the dim glow of the streetlights, she appeared exhausted.

“Quit staring,” she muttered, and he forced his gaze back to the road.

As he pulled up in the underground garage beneath the Order, he had a feeling she was going to bolt. But instead, she turned to him as he switched off the engine, and smiled.

“You fancy a drink?” she asked.

For a moment, he thought he’d misheard. “A drink?”

She curved her lips into a smile. “I’m a bit strung out. It’s been a rough night. I just need to relax, and I don’t usually drink alone.”

He was pretty sure that was a lie.

“Please, Piers,” she murmured. “Come keep me company. I’m not going to be able to sleep, and it seems a pity to waste the night.” She rested a hand on his arm, and he tensed beneath the touch. She was coming on to him. But why?

More to the point, why did he care?

Just take what was offered. But some inner voice whispered, why now?

All the same, he might as well go along with this, see where she was heading. He studied her as the elevator carried them upward. There was something different in her face. She caught him staring and smiled serenely, and his senses went on alert. That was it. She appeared at peace. Serene was not a word he would have used to describe her. When she wasn’t acting, she was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. But there was no conflict in her dark brown eyes now. And it came to him.

She’d given up. He’d seen it before. What he saw in her was acceptance. Whatever conflicts she had been battling with she had resolved. But what had she given up and why?

And why the hell wouldn’t she just talk to him? Tell him what her problems were and he could sort them out, make everything better. His temper rose as the elevator came to a halt, and the doors opened straight into the penthouse.

“I’m going to clean up,” she said. “Why don’t you get the drinks? Mine’s a scotch.”

“Of course it is.”

She disappeared into the bathroom, and he heard the water running. He thought about following her, but in the end, he crossed the room to the cabinet and poured them both a hefty shot of scotch. He swallowed his down, feeling the warmth hit his stomach.

He was hungry. He usually didn’t have to feed all that often—the older the vampire, the less frequency he or she needed to feed. And as vampires went, he was old. But he’d been using a lot of energy, and there was something about Roz that made his gums ache.

He remembered the taste of her, so sweet, and the heat in his belly dropped lower, pooling in his groin. His cock stirred in his pants, and he shifted uncomfortably.

He wanted nothing more than to sink his fangs into her pretty throat while he thrust his cock into her willing body. And something told him she was after the same thing. The thought cooled his blood.

Why? Was he such an asshole that he had to be the one doing the running?

Maybe.

But he didn’t think that was it. With anyone else, he would have taken what was on offer. But he’d decided he needed to back off with Roz and now—

“I wish I had something more suitable to wear.”

He whirled around at the sound of her voice. She stood in the doorway, dressed in nothing but a fluffy white towel, which left bare the tops of her breasts and the length of her legs.

“More suitable for what?”