It was still early when he walked into the bar, and most of the tables stood empty. Slow music played in the background, and the lights were dim. Ella’s scent lingered in the air, sharp and acrid. Christian found her sitting on one of the stools that lined the back wall and took a moment to study her. She hadn’t aged in the thirty years he’d known her, and he wondered who’d paid for that—all magic had a price, and Ella had never been too particular about who paid it.
She’d dressed to impress in a skintight dress the color of fresh blood. It showed off her perfect figure, slender yet with all the right curves, but then Ella was unlikely to leave that sort of thing up to nature. He wondered what she looked like shorn of all the spells. Some sort of raddled old hag was his guess, complete with warts on her nose.
She wore sheer black stockings and crimson stilettos. Her legs were crossed and one foot bounced in the air. Glancing up as he approached, her sullen expression was replaced by a curving smile that didn’t quite reach her dark eyes.
Christian strode over and stopped in front of the table. “You came.”
“The great Christian Roth calls and everyone comes running.”
He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t reply.
Ella shrugged. “Piers ordered me to come and give you anything you want.” She stared up at him from sultry eyes, hot and sensual. “What do you want, Christian?”
Shuddering in disgust, he made no effort to conceal the reaction, and she scowled.
“You could at least make an effort to be pleasant. You asked for this meeting, after all.” She wiped the frown from her face with practiced ease and smiled again. “Come on Christian, honey, we could have fun together. You liked me once.”
“Let’s be clear about this.” His voice was ice cold. “Be thankful I left the Order when I did. If I’d stayed, you would have died twenty years ago.”
The smile slid from her face, and for a moment, fear showed in her expression. But she quickly regained control. “Don’t be so sanctimonious, you’ve killed—countless times. Why look down on me for doing the same thing? The Order knows I can’t do my work without making some sacrifices.”
“And are all the sacrifices you perform for your work?” Christian grabbed her chin between his finger and thumb, forcing her to look into his eyes. He studied her pale flawless skin. She had to be in her sixties—she could have passed for twenty-five. “Been sacrificing virgins and bathing in their blood, Ella?”
“Don’t be disgusting. I use anti-wrinkle cream—it can take years off a woman.”
He released his hold on her chin. “We might both kill, but our reasons are worlds apart.”
“But then, you hardly need to worry about wrinkles. And neither would I if you’d agree to my request.”
“Females never survive the transition.” She’d come to him more than thirty years ago, asking to be changed, to become a vampire. That she could even think he would consider it was crazy.
Her expression became eager. “I’ve been working on a spell—”
He eyed her coldly. “I would tie you to the stake and light the match myself before I would consider turning you. Or allowing you to be turned.”
“Bastard!”
“Without a doubt. And now the pleasantries are over, perhaps we can get down to business.” He slid on to the stool opposite her. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“I thought Piers had already told you. I don’t know what more I can add.”
He forced down the anger that threatened to overwhelm him. “Just tell me what you saw.”
“Not a lot. The night Gabriel disappeared, I saw him in a vision. I warned him not to go. He didn’t listen.” Her eyes glittered with malice. “You taught him too well, Christian. He’s never trusted me, and that’s your fault. If he’d listened to me, instead of you, he’d still be alive.”
Christian ignored the taunt. “Piers said the demon was only a minor one, that Gabe should have had no problem sending it back. So what happened?”
“How should I know? At a guess, they’re getting strength from something way more powerful.” She took a sip of her wine. “From what I’ve picked up, the lesser demons are hunting for something. This isn’t just normal mischief. Someone is sending them across and whoever it is, they’re lending them power.”
“Who would be strong enough to do that?”
“Not many. Probably one of the seven. Could be your old friend, Asmodai.”
His eyes narrowed at the name, and he felt the familiar surge of hatred at the thought of the demon prince. “Have you any proof of that?”
“None, but it makes sense. He hates you, probably not as much as you hate him, but he still hates.”
“Piers told me that you believed I was involved.”
“I saw you, straight after the vision with Gabriel—the two are obviously connected.”
Christian didn’t like her, but he sensed she was telling the truth. He also knew he had all the information he was going to get tonight. But did Ella really believe Asmodai was involved, or was she just trying to wind him up? It was hard to tell. She hated Christian, but she also wanted him, wanted what she believed he could give her, and that made her dangerous.
He stood up. “If you discover anything else, you’ll let me know.”
“Of course, oh Lord and Master.”