Bittersweet Magic (The Order #2)

Roz forced her glance away and found the other man watching her, one eyebrow raised. Had he caught her eyeing up his friend’s butt? Well, even nuns were women.

She shook away the notion, put her arm around Sister Maria’s shoulder, and ushered her forward. The sister was at the end of her strength, both mentally and physically. She’d gone almost comatose at the sight of the two men. For the first time, it occurred to Roz to wonder what she was going to do with the nun when this meeting was over.

She’d assumed she would be able to leave her here. Had even considered sticking around herself to try and find out about the Key’s whereabouts. But no way was she staying any longer than absolutely necessary around the Order of the Shadow Accords. She wouldn’t have stepped into the building if she’d known what it housed. Sod bloody Asmodai and his Key.

She followed Piers Lamont into a sitting area; two huge black sofas dominated the room. He gestured to one of them, and she urged Maria over and gently pushed her down. Christian followed them and closed the door before leaning against it. He did that a lot. Laid-back but ready to move.

Sinking onto the sofa beside Maria, Roz smoothed her expression to blankness. She’d had a lot of time to think about what to say, and she’d decided to stick to the truth. Well, all except the minor detail that she wasn’t actually a nun.

“So?” Piers said. He’d taken a seat opposite her, his legs stretched out, booted feet resting on the coffee table in front of him. He appeared relaxed, arms resting along the back of the sofa.

“Mr. Lamont—”

“Call me Piers.”

“Mr. Lamont, last night our convent was attacked.”

“Attacked by whom?”

Roz was about to answer, when Maria beat her to it.

“By creatures from Hell.”

Piers raised an eyebrow, opened his mouth, and then closed it again as someone knocked on the door. It opened, and the young man from reception stepped inside carrying a tray. The divine smell of freshly brewed coffee filled her nostrils. Roz had to still her instinctive swoon toward him.

“I thought the sisters could do with some coffee.” A frown flickered across his face. “Do nuns drink coffee?”

“Yes,” she said quickly. If he took it away now she would probably scream.

He frowned at Piers, who grinned but removed his feet from the table so he could put the tray down.

Roz didn’t wait. She sat up and poured two cups of coffee, added cream and plenty of sugar, and handed the first to Maria. Her hands were shaking so much the cup rattled against the saucer. Roz pressed her fingers around the other woman’s, only letting go when she was sure the coffee wouldn’t be wasted.

She picked up her own, took a sip, and almost groaned. When she looked back, Piers was regarding her with amusement. “These creatures from Hell?” he prompted.

“They came last night,” Roz said. “To the convent while the sisters were sleeping. They were some sort of demonic beings.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“Well it stands to reason that if God exists, and”—she gestured to her robe—“I obviously believe that, then so does the devil and consequently Hell.”

“Very logical. Go on.”

“They killed them all. All except Sister Maria.”

“And yourself.”

“I wasn’t in my cell.”

“An assignation, perhaps? Meeting the priest behind the altar for a bit of fun?”

She gave him what she hoped was a stern expression. “I was praying.”

“Extra prayers. Did you have some wicked thoughts you shouldn’t have?”

She resisted the urge to throw her empty cup at him. Instead, she refilled it. The coffee had a wonderful, calming effect. She was beginning to relax. Obviously, Asmodai had told the truth—for once—and Piers Lamont couldn’t tell she was anything other than human. And if he’d bought her cover so far, and she was sure he had despite the teasing, then she was probably safe. Just give him the message, see if I can read anything into his reaction, and get the hell out of here.

“They brought Sister Maria to the church where I was praying.”

“What did they look like?”

She didn’t have to fake the shudder that ran through her. “They were monsters. Half-man, half-beast, with crimson eyes. All except their leader. He looked like a man.”

“Describe him.”

“He was tall, as tall as you. With dark hair and really green eyes—like emeralds.”

Shock flared on the handsome face and was gone. He obviously recognized the description.

“You know him?” Christian asked.

He pursed his lips. “I might. Let’s hear the rest of the story.”

“He sent the beasts down to the catacombs beneath the church. I think they were searching for something, and they found it.”

“Found what?”

“I don’t know,” she lied. “But it was small. One of them handed it to the man. He could hold it in his palm.”