“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.
“Piss off.”
However much Piers loathed the other vampire, they had a close connection, closer than father and child. Jack had made him what he was. The transition had been against his will, and it had not gone smoothly—Piers had fought every step of the way. Back then, he would have preferred death to everlasting life. At that point, he had still believed in the gods, and that the only way his soul would be freed was through mortal death. And Andarta and her machinations had put an end to that possibility. Jack had been her servant, and she’d thought to make Piers another.
She’d underestimated him and paid the price.
“You have to have it.” Jack spoke again, desperation clear in his voice.
“Tell me what you know. Where was it hidden?”
“At the house I was staying in.”
“The one the police raided?” Piers asked.
“You know about that? So it was you?”
“No. I knew about the police raid—I warned you it was only a matter of time. They had your picture. So could the police have taken the Key?”
“No way. It was hidden—by a spell. I’m not a fool. Whoever found it must have used magic to break the spell and reveal the hiding place.”
“A witch or warlock working with the police? I don’t think so.” Piers was thinking furiously, though. “What else?”
“I questioned one of the police officers.”
“You did?”
“Don’t worry—he won’t remember.”
“So what did you learn?”
“There was a woman working with the lead officer on the case. She wasn’t police; in fact, the others had never seen her before. She went in first and came out before the officer. Are you going to tell me that’s she’s not one of yours?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Whoever has your Key, it’s not us.”
“Us?” Jack muttered. “I still can’t believe you’re working for this set-up.”
Piers didn’t bother answering. He sometimes found it difficult to believe himself. And he was eager to get back to whomever this person was who was assisting the police, because he was beginning to have a few ideas, and they weren’t making him happy. As soon as he got rid of Jack, he’d call his men trailing Roz and tell them to be extra vigilant.
“You know something,” Jack said when Piers remained silent.
“Well, if I did, I’d hardly be telling you, now would I?”
“Don’t you think you’ve had your pound of flesh—two thousand fucking years’ worth of flesh? So I turned you—if I hadn’t you’d be ashes and dust by now.”
“I know, and surprisingly, I’m grateful. That doesn’t change the fact that you turned me without my consent.”
“I had no choice. Andarta wanted you.”
“And what Andarta wants, she gets?”
“Yes.”
“Well, not from me.”
“It will hardly be my problem if I don’t get that Key back—she’ll finish me.”
“And I’ll cry—really I will.”
“Fucking sarcastic bastard.”
“You are aware that’s it’s my job to stop Andarta,” Piers pointed out reasonably.
“Yeah, but I figure you don’t want this Key loose in the world either. In the wrong hands…”
“Couldn’t get much wronger than you and Andarta.”
“You loved her once,” Jack said. “And better the devil, you know.”
“Jesus, were you always such a cliché?”
Jack was silent again. Piers considered putting the phone down so he could get back to the problem of Roz. But he suspected that Jack had more to say.
“Did you like the little nun I sent you?” Jack asked.
For a moment, Piers presumed he was referring to Roz, but then realized he must mean Sister Maria. Jack actually knew nothing of Roz. He didn’t even know there had been anyone else left alive in the convent that night. “A little too skinny for my taste.”
“But you kept her there?”
“And how would you know that?”