“You know I won’t.” He rose to his feet and stretched. “Okay, that’s it for the night. I might think of some more questions tomorrow. But for now, I’m beat.” He looked down at the girl. “You think you can sleep now?”
“Actually, I’m hungry. Is there any food?”
“I’m sure they can find you some. I’ll send someone in.”
Jessica called to them as she opened the door. “Roz, will you visit me again?”
“Of course,” she lied.
After all, who knew where she would be tomorrow.
Ryan appeared deep in thought as they left the hospital, and from the expression on his face, his thoughts weren’t happy ones. She couldn’t help him there. A twinge of guilt jabbed her in the gut. She had gone to Ryan that first time, had brought him into her world, where he had no right to be. Now he was getting in deeper, and that could only be bad news for him. Tara had said that one of the functions of the Order was to keep their kinds’ existence a secret. So what did they do with people like Ryan who just got too close? Maybe nothing worse than a bit of that mind control. She could only hope.
The parking lot was almost deserted. She and Maria followed Ryan toward where his SUV was parked.
He was putting the key in the lock when something slammed into her from behind, and she crashed to the floor. The air left her lungs with a whoosh and all she saw were flashes of blackness. A small scream came from beside her—Maria. Roz tried to drag herself up, but a weight pushed her down into the ground, crushing her face so her teeth were rammed against the inside of her mouth and she tasted the sweet metallic tang of her own blood.
She stopped struggling, held herself very still, and the pressure eased slightly. A few seconds later, she was dragged to her feet, wincing as pain shot through her. She’d maybe cracked a rib in the fall, but it wasn’t too bad. She could still function.
They were surrounded. One man had a hold of Sister Maria, two held onto Ryan, and at least five others stood around, all dressed in dark jackets, the hoods pulled over their faces. But beneath the hoods, she could see the gleam of crimson.
A man stood in the center of the group. He was dressed in dark pants and a black shirt. She recognized him in an instant.
Jack.
Shit.
He leaned in close and sniffed the air around her. “Who are you?”
“Mind your own goddamn business.”
He studied her speculatively, and she braced herself for pain, but instead a slight smile curled his lips, and he nodded to the man who held Maria. He twisted her arm viciously behind her back, and Maria let out a little shriek of pain before she managed to bite it back. Her gaze held Roz’s, and an expression of acceptance filled her eyes. She fully expected to die here. In that moment, Roz decided that no way was that going to happen. Not if she could help it. She would die first.
She must have tensed because Ryan spoke from beside her, his tone urgent.
“Roz!”
Two men held him, gripped by his upper arms, though she’d felt their inhuman strength and knew they weren’t men. From the crimson glint in their eyes and strong stench of sulfur that hung around them, she’d guess they were demons. Blood beaded on Ryan’s mouth but his eyes were clear. When he saw he had her attention, he shook his head slightly. He was telling her not to do anything. It was good advice—they were way outnumbered. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to relax. If Jack had wanted them all dead, they would already be dead. He had kept them alive for a reason. She only hoped that reason wasn’t so he could feed on them all later at his leisure.
But she didn’t think so. She actually had a good idea of what he was after. She only hoped she could use that to save her friends. A shock ran through her at the thought. But she realized it was the truth—they were her friends, however much she tried to reject the idea. Ryan had been her friend for a long time. And Maria. She couldn’t deny that she was coming to care about her in a weird sort of way.
She nodded at Ryan, and some of the tension went out of his figure.
“So shall we try again?” Jack said. “Who are you?”
“My name is Rosamund Fairfax,” she replied. “And I’m a Seeker.”
His eyes widened slightly. “Really? Who do you work for?”
“No one. I freelance.”
“And you found my Key. Why were you seeking it?”
“Money. I was offered a great deal of money—”
“By whom?”
“I don’t know. In my line of work sometimes it’s better not to know.”
He pursed his lips. Was he deciding whether to push her? “So how did you find me?”
“I was at the convent the night you attacked.”
Shock flared in his eyes. “Go on.”
“After you left, I decided my only lead to the Key was Piers Lamont, and so I went with the sister to deliver your message. Afterward, I went to the police, said I had seen you with the missing girl, and gave them a picture.”
“So that’s how they found me,” he said, almost to himself. “I knew I hadn’t been careless.”