And she was tired of running.
She rested her head against the seat and watched the streets of London flash by. For the first time, she considered not giving the Key to Asmodai. If she handed it to Piers, would he protect her from the demon’s wrath? Asmodai was not someone you lightly crossed. But the Order was powerful. Maybe they could keep her safe.
A wave of excitement washed over her. She might be signing her death warrant, but she’d lived a long time, and she was tired of not only running but of being alone. She didn’t want to be Piers’ enemy; she wanted to be his…Her mind hesitated, unsure of anything except the fact that she desired him. Like a hunger deep in her belly, a powerful thirst that needed to be quenched. She closed her eyes and remembered the feel of his strong arms holding her, his kiss, his bite. What would it feel like if he bit her while he was…
“Roz?”
She blinked as Maria spoke her name. They’d pulled up at the hospital, and she could see Ryan outside the main entrance, a cigarette in his hand. He’d given them up years ago; things must be tough.
She paid the driver, got out, and strolled toward him. “Those things will kill you,” she said, nodding at the cigarette.
“Yeah.” He glanced past her, his gaze settling on Maria. He frowned, and she saw the flicker of recognition. “Sister Maria?”
She held out a hand to him and he shook it. “Hello, Detective Ryan.”
“Just Ryan will do. You’re looking a little more…secular this evening,” he said.
“I bought some clothes.”
“Nice. I’ve found someone to take you back to the convent. She drives a cab but is off duty tonight. She’s meeting us at my place after we’ve finished here.”
“Thank you.”
“Finish here?” Roz asked. “What’s there to finish?”
“There’s actually something I’d like your help with.”
She frowned. She really hoped there wasn’t another missing person already. “What’s that?”
“Go see Jessica Thomas.”
“What?” She hadn’t been expecting that. “Why?”
“Because she’s asking for you.”
“She doesn’t know me. Is she okay?”
Ryan sighed. “Physically, she’s fine. It’s her mind that’s the problem. She says she can’t remember, but she’s scared the whole time. Scared rigid, like if she moves, something will get her.” He raised the cigarette to his mouth, then gave it a disgusted glance, tossed it to the ground, and stamped on it with his boot. “I hate this case. I have no fucking clue what is going on—except it’s some weird shit.”
“So why does she want to see me?” Roz asked.
Ryan shrugged. “She got me here tonight by saying she remembered something, but it was a lie. Once I was here, she asked me if she could see the woman I was with the night we found her—that’s you.”
“But why?”
“She says you brought her back and took the pain away. I think she would like you to take the memories away as well. She’s told us all along that she remembers nothing, but I think she’s been bluffing—just doesn’t want to think about it. Now, she says she’ll try and talk about it but only if you’re there.”
Roz glanced at her watch. It was just after eleven. She had enough problems of her own, but how could she not help? Jessica was innocent in all this.
But she’d never tried to heal a mind. Perhaps she’d do more harm than good.
“You can’t hurt her more than she’s already hurt,” Ryan said, as if reading her thoughts. “She’s damaged goods, and as of this moment no one has a clue how to fix her.”
Roz rubbed her eyes and gave a quick nod. “Lead the way. But this had better be quick or I’m out of here.”
“I know you love to pretend you don’t care, but you can drop the act with me. I’ve seen the real you.”
She scowled. No one had seen the real her. Hell, even she didn’t know who the real her was. “I don’t care.”
“If you didn’t care, Jessica would be dead in that basement.”
There wasn’t really anything she could answer to that. Shoving her hands into her pockets, she stalked into the hospital, Ryan behind her. She halted inside the door as she realized that she had no clue where she was going.
She looked over her shoulder to see Ryan grinning at her. “Don’t laugh at me, Ryan. You should know that right now, I have absolutely no sense of humor.”
He wiped the grin from his face and nodded. “This way.”
Jessica was in a private room with a uniformed officer on the door. Inside was a single bed, a cabinet, and a couple of upright chairs. The girl lay on the bed, her head turned away, her whole body rigid.
“Jessica,” Roz murmured.