“Them trying to kill you?”
“Yeah, but at least they’re up front about it and you get a good fight. Hell, demons are fun. The fae on the other hand don’t know what fun is, and they certainly don’t know how to have a good fight. They’re more likely to wait until they can stab you in the back or bore you to death with all that purity of the blood shit. And that magic stuff, what’s with that?” He shook his head in disgust. “Man, I hate the magic.”
Christian had to agree. The fae were tricky. The one point in their favor was that they kept to themselves. That was the thing about thinking you were better than everyone else—you didn’t want to mix. In his years running the Order, he’d never had much contact with them.
“Have you ever met the Walker before?” he asked.
Piers nodded. “Oh yeah, I’ve had the pleasure, more than a few times, and boy was that fun. What about you?
“Once. At the end of the last wars. They’d been trying to recover something the demons had stolen from them. They wanted our help.”
Piers grinned. “I bet it hurt them to ask for that. Did we give it to them?”
“We never found whatever it was.” Christian shrugged. “They weren’t happy, but there wasn’t a lot they could do about it.”
“What did you think of the Walker?”
“Very focused. Ruthless. I was glad when they went back where they belong.”
“So you don’t like them any more than I do. Though I have to admit they are good for one thing.” Piers’s eyes gleamed in the darkness. “Have you ever tasted fae blood?”
“It’s against the Accords,” Christian said.
“This was before the Accords were signed.”
“You’re that old?”
Piers nodded. “And it was wild times back then. Pretty much a free for all.”
“And the fae blood?”
“The sweetest thing you have ever tasted.” He licked his lips and grinned. “You can understand why a demon will break the Accords to get some of that.”
Christian stepped out of the shadows and searched the open area in front of them. The night was clear, and up here, high above the city streets, it was quiet. Far below, the constant hum of the city continued as normal.
“Perhaps I should tell you,” Piers said, “the Walker and me, we have some history.”
Christian swung around to face him “You do?”
“Hmm.
“Is it going to be a problem?”
“Probably.”
“And you only thought to mention this now?”
“Hey,” Piers said, “the fae approached the Order for this meeting not the other way round. So they can take what they’re given or fuck off back to fairyland where they belong.”
Christian rubbed a hand across his temple. He wanted to get this meeting over with and get back to Tara; he was worried about her. No, it was more than worried. He needed to see her. It was less than twenty-four hours since they’d parted and it was already too long. He shouldn’t have left her at the apartment; he should have kept her close where he could protect her.
He stopped short at the thought. Turned it over in his mind. It felt right, and a wave of excitement rippled through him. He’d never had a woman of his own. Not since his mortal life before he was turned. For a moment, he felt a flicker of doubt. He’d been unable to save Emily or their daughters. Could he do any better now? He had to—Tara was his.
“Christian. We’ve got company.” Piers gestured across the rooftop to where a faint figure was taking form. It glowed with a pale luminescent that faded, leaving the Walker standing before them. He could almost pass for human: a tall human, wand-slim, with silver-gilt hair down to his shoulders and a long slender face with high cheekbones and a sharp blade of a nose. His expression screamed arrogance, which changed to disgust as he took in the two figures. His eyes blazed hatred at Piers.
The air filled with a sweet subtle scent that caressed Christian’s nostrils and made his fangs ache to feed. The fae stopped a few feet from where they stood. Ignoring Piers, he bowed formally to Christian. Christian returned the gesture and heard Piers snort in obvious amusement.
“I am approaching the Order to report a breach of the Accords,” the Walker said.
“Unfortunately, I am no longer with the Order. You need to speak to my colleague here. I believe you already know each other.” He gestured to Piers and a slow hiss came from the fae.
“Hi, Walker,” Piers said, waggling his fingers. “Long time, no see.”
“Blood taker,” The Walker replied. “I would do much not to deal with you.”
Piers shrugged. “Don’t then. Come on,” he said to Christian. “Looks like this meeting is over.”
The Walker turned back to Christian. “Do you know what this man was? A hunter of our people. He stole our blood.”
“And what were you, Walker?” Piers asked. “Back in the good old days?”
“I was a protector of my people.”
“You were an assassin.”
“Assassins are paid. I was never paid for killing your kind. I did it for pleasure.”