Piers glanced across at Roz and raised an eyebrow. She shrugged, swallowed the rest of her scotch, and pushed herself to her feet.
She loosened the front of the robe, flashing her underwear, then slipped it off one arm and turned sideways to Christian so he could see the mark.
It was actually very beautiful: an intricate, almost Celtic design that wrapped around her upper arm. “Can you tell who put it there?” Piers asked Jonas.
“I might be able to find out. We have some books in the library, which might help.”
“Okay, but later.” He had a good idea anyway, considering which demon he already suspected was involved with the Key, but he’d keep that to himself until he decided what to do with the information. “For now, let’s get on with the story.”
Roz tugged up her dress and sat down. This time Piers filled her glass. She peered at him suspiciously before muttering a thank you. Underneath the calm exterior, she actually looked a little shattered. Well, she had just discovered that she was immortal.
“After my mother died, I knew they were coming for me. I stopped praying to God at that point and asked for help from another source.” She gave them an almost defiant look. “I prayed to Lucifer. And while I didn’t get the devil himself, I got the next best thing.”
“And you made a deal?” Christian asked. His tone was expressionless, but she must have sensed some censure, real or imagined, because she turned to face him, her eyes narrowed.
“I was seventeen, I’d just listened to my mother die screaming in agony, and they were about to do the same to me. So yes, I made a deal. I didn’t want to die screaming, but more—I wanted them to pay. Can you understand that?”
“Yes,” Christian replied. “You could say I made a similar deal myself. You don’t think I was born like this?” He grinned with a flash of fang and some of the tension seeped from her.
“I made a deal. I signed my life away until I had done thirteen tasks. In exchange, I got to live and I got revenge—he burned the village, killed them all, and afterward…”
She broke off, and Piers had an inkling of what had happened afterward. He decided then and there that if he ever got the chance, he would help her slice her demon into little pieces. He kept his thoughts to himself; this was a demon, after all. You could hardly expect civilized behavior. Tara was not so reticent.
“All demons are bastards,” she muttered.
“What about the fae?” Roz asked, her tone curious.
“They’re bastards as well. They just aren’t quite so obvious about it.”
“Tara is also half-fae,” Piers put in. “She’s not too fond of her family”
Roz studied her; Tara appeared human, but then so did she. “Oh. Well, I’ve always known I wasn’t particularly nice. Now at least I can blame it on my father.”
“It doesn’t matter who your father is,” Tara said fiercely. “You’re you. Just because your father is evil doesn’t mean you have to be as well.”
Well, Tara would have to think that, wouldn’t she—considering who her father was? “Go on,” Piers said. “What happened next?”
“I just went on. The years passed, and I tried to blend in, moving on before it became obvious I wasn’t aging. It was hard at first, but grew simpler as the world got bigger and traveling farther and faster became easier. Every so often I’d have to do one of the tasks—”
“What sort of tasks?” Jonas asked. “What is it you do?”
“Mostly, I find things—I’m good at it. I’m a Seeker. That’s what he called me.”
“No wonder he saved you, if he knew that. Very useful. But I’m betting there are other things you can do.”
“Really?” Now, she looked intrigued.
“You have at least half fae blood. But it’s not only that; it’s your human blood as well. We tend to think that humans have no magic, but it’s more truthful perhaps that it’s just been forgotten. When it’s combined with fae-blood, fae-magic, it can awaken.”
“How would I find out?”
Jonas rubbed his hands together. “There are tests we can do, things we can try—”
“Things you can try later,” Piers suggested.
“But—”
“Jonas isn’t going anywhere,” he interrupted her. “You can spend as long as you like playing, but first, finish the story.”
She pursed her lips, but then gave a casual shrug. “A few weeks ago, I was given my last task. The thirteenth. Complete that and I’d be free.”
“And the task was?”
“I had to find something hidden in the convent of the Little Sisters of Mercy. A Key, but I don’t know to what.” She paused and sipped her drink.
Christian glanced at him, one eyebrow quirked. He reckoned Christian was having the same notion he was. Which demon knew where the Key had been hidden all these years? He pushed the thought aside as Roz continued. “So I got myself in there. I’ve become very good over the years at acquiring new identities, becoming different people. I became Sister Rosa, did a bit of creative stuff with their records, and I was in.”