“Didn’t someone say alcohol is supposed to do weird things to demons?” Ryan asked, his glance wary.
“Yeah. Turns us all demonic.” He grinned. “Some of us, anyway. The weaker ones can’t take it and even the stronger ones can go a little weirded out if they’re not used to it.” He took another swig. “Lucky for you, I’m used to it.”
He held out the bottle and Ryan sighed.
“Why the hell not?” He pulled two glasses from his desk and put them on the table next to Ash’s boots.
Ash poured a good measure into both and watched, amused as Ryan perched on the edge of the desk and sipped.
Ryan appeared exactly what he was: a cop. Well an ex-cop now but Ash was guessing they never really lost the look. He wore gray slacks and a black sweater, a beat-up leather jacket over the top.
“So how are the arrangements going?” Ash asked. “Any important meetings to go to yet?”
“First one is the day after tomorrow—with a guy from the ministry of defense.” He cast a glance at Asmodai and frowned. “You are going to wear something different, aren’t you?”
“Different?” Ash peered down at himself, in the usual black leathers and T-shirt he wore in his human manifestation.
“I suggest a suit, because I’m not sure you’ll get passed security like that.”
“A suit?”
“Yeah and maybe a haircut.”
He must have appeared shocked at the idea because Ryan grinned. “It’s not like that guy in the bible where you lose your powers or something if you have it cut?”
“No.”
“Well lose the ponytail, then. It’s…girlie.”
Girlie?
“I’ll think about it. And are you going to get a suit and a haircut?”
“Me? Why?” He ran a hand through his already mussed hair so it stood on end. Ash quirked a brow.
“I’ll think about it.” Ryan gulped down his whisky and poured another. “The waiting is fucking killing me. I want something to happen.”
“Be wary of saying that. Things will happen soon enough.”
“You think they’re going to come after Roz? The”—Ryan paused as though the word might choke him—“angels.”
“I’m sure they are.”
Ryan pressed his fingers to his forehead. “Christ. I never thought the time would come when I would be on the opposite side to the angels.”
“You believed in them? Before all this, I mean.” Ash waved a hand encompassing the area.
“A few years ago, I would have said no. But then I met Roz.”
“Ah, Roz,” he murmured reminiscently. “Enough to make anyone believe in angels. Did you and she ever…?”
“No. How about the two of you? Were you close?”
Five hundred years ago, Ash had saved Roz from being burned at the stake by a mob of rampaging villagers. In exchange, she’d been indebted to him until she’d completed thirteen tasks. He’d taken her that night amid the dying screams of her oppressors. She’d been seventeen, a virgin, and sweet as sin.
But he wasn’t about to share that with Ryan.
Christian and Tara arrived at that moment saving him from answering. Piers and Roz were close behind. From the crimson glow in his eyes, Piers had fed recently. That and the puncture marks in Roz’s neck.
“So,” Piers said. “Is someone going to tell me what this is about? I had plans for this evening and you’ve fucked them up.”
Piers had taken over the leadership of the Order when Christian had left. Most had considered him a strange choice. Though probably the most powerful vampire in existence—Piers was over two thousand years old and vamps gained strength with age—he’d never been known for his diplomatic qualities. And keeping peace between the races was one of the main functions of the Order. But he’d done well and it was probably only his intervention that had saved the world from being under Andarta’s less than tender control. Andarta had been a mad bitch, but she’d loved Piers. There was no accounting for taste.
“So sorry,” Ash said not attempting to hide his sarcasm. “But as head of the Order you might be interested in this.”
“‘This’ being?”
Ash turned to Ryan. “You want to start?”
Ryan was leaning against the wall at the back of the room observing them, as usual. Now he pushed himself up and strode to the front.
“Last night, I had a visit from my old partner at the Met. Apparently, yesterday morning, she was approached by a government department who claimed to be investigating Christian.”
“Investigating me for what?”
“Well not nonpayment of taxes. Other than that, she wasn’t sure, but they hinted about some sort of supernatural, spooky connection. She told them to piss off. But she said they implied there was a tie-in to the murder case we were investigating. The first girl your vamp friend took. The one who didn’t survive.”
Piers frowned. “Jack’s dead. And he was hardly my friend—I pulled his head off. So why is the case is still open?”
“Well, I could hardly suggest we close it without explaining how I knew that the perp is dead. Faith also said they mentioned Roz.”