“Well, you’d better find her then.” He pushed himself to his feet and strode around the desk to stand in front of the werewolf. “Get as many of your men as you can and meet me in the weapons room.” He turned to Graham. “You get hold of Christian, tell him we could do with his help—sooner rather than later.”
He was going to have to save the stupid little bitch.
And she’d better be suitably grateful.
Chapter Fifteen
The condemned woman ate a hearty meal.
She’d slept for a good eight hours and woken up starving. There was absolutely nothing she was going to even attempt to eat in Ryan’s fridge, but there were cold beers, so she phoned for a pizza and sipped a beer while she waited.
The pizza was delicious, though it was slightly spoiled by the fact that Jack called while she was half way through it. Enough to ruin anyone’s appetite.
“One a.m. On the embankment by Tower Bridge.”
He didn’t give her a chance to say anything, just cut off the call. It was up to her now. She knew they were unlikely to let Ryan or Sister Maria go if they could get away with killing them off or keeping them for snacks. She had to persuade them that course of action really wasn’t in their best interests. Jonas had thrown in what he referred to as “a few cheap tricks” for the price of her spell. She was hoping it was enough.
Her appetite had gone with the phone call, and she put the rest of the pizza in the fridge. Maybe Ryan would be hungry if—or preferably when—he got home later.
She decided to walk to the meeting. It was a good hour, but really, what else did she have to do? It was a beautiful evening, warm and balmy, and at past midnight, the streets were quiet. She headed toward the river and then walked along the embankment, remembering her walk with Piers the previous evening. She’d never do that again, and regret niggled at her mind.
The water looked deep and dark, and the occasional boat chugged past her on some pleasure cruise or heading back to its moorings. Everything seemed so ordinary.
It was hard to believe anything bad could happen on a night like this. Though it had been July when her mother had died. A beautiful summer evening. Not a good month for her.
The tall towers of the bridge loomed just ahead. Glancing at her watch, she realized she had fifteen minutes until the meeting. Perching on the wall that ran along the embankment, she went over in her mind one last time what she would do. What she would say. She’d always reckoned she was a good actress—in fact, back in the nineteenth century, she’d been pretty famous for a short while, before she’d had to change her identity. Now she was going to test that acting. There were a few holes in her story, but if she was convincing enough, she might just avoid slipping through them.
She felt their approach before she saw them, like the threat of an electric storm. The atmosphere prickled with energy, throbbing with power. Asmodai had told her that it took an enormous amount of energy to open a portal between the Abyss and the Earth. That was no doubt why the Key was so valuable. She fingered it in her pocket. Such a little thing to hold so much power.
To the right of her, the air shimmered as though the world was splintering. She’d seen it a few times now—first when Asmodai answered her prayers—but the sight still filled her with a sense of awe. For a second, the black gaping maw of the portal stood empty, and then Jack stepped through. He appeared way too happy for Roz’s liking, a smarmy smile pasted on his face as he caught sight of her. Maybe tinged with a little relief. He hadn’t been entirely sure of her. That fact might help her later.
He was followed by a clutch of demons, similar to those that had attacked the convent. Half-man, half-beast, with very little intelligence reflected in their crimson eyes. Soldiers, she guessed—just hired muscle.
Through the swarm, she could make out Ryan and Maria. The breath she hadn’t realized she was holding oozed out of her in a sigh; they were still alive. Then her teeth clamped together as the group parted and she got a better look at them.
Ryan’s face was a mass of bruises, one eye almost shut, and he was holding his left arm clutched against his chest. The other wrapped around Maria’s shoulders, supporting her. He caught sight of Roz, and relief flooded his face. Another one who hadn’t been entirely sure she would turn up. He’d probably put his keen detective mind to work and deduced that if she had failed at her side of the bargain, their end was likely to be messy and unpleasant.
Roz turned her attention to Maria; there was no sign of any damage, but despite that, she looked worse than Ryan. Her shirt was ripped, so she clutched it to her chest, and her skin appeared pale, almost white. Bloodless.
“Bastard,” she muttered under her breath.
Without giving herself time to think, she stalked toward Jack. He just stood there with that asinine grin on his face as she pulled back her fist and punched him in the nose. She put all her strength behind the blow, but he hardly swayed under the force. She did manage to split his lip, though, and a bead of blood welled up. He licked it slowly, and his eyes narrowed.