Ignore it.
She clasped her hands in front of her, in a nun-like manner, which had the added benefit of stopping them from shaking. Though maybe a little shaking was expected. Or a lot. She risked another peek. The dark man had moved to the side and was leaning against the wall. The blond had perched on the edge of the desk, one long, leather-clad leg swinging. Just behind him lay a sawed-off shot gun. She made her eyes widen in fake shock as her gaze shifted back to his face.
“Sorry,” he said. “Is this making you nervous?” He picked up the gun and tossed it to the red-haired receptionist, who still stood just inside the door. “Take this back to the weapons room.”
Was she supposed to feel better? He still had a pistol at each side and a knife at his waist.
“Thank you,” she murmured. Yeah, thank you for nothing. She wished she had a gun, but she hadn’t taken one to the convent. It really hadn’t occurred to her that she’d need one among a bunch of nuns. How wrong could you be?
“Now, do you want to tell us why you’re here?”
“Could Sister Maria have a seat? She’s not too well, and we’ve had a long day.”
“Of course. I’m remiss as a host. Come this way.” He jumped to the floor and strode across the room toward a door at the back. He really had a great ass.
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.”