Roz had always liked to think of herself as a total badass. But actually, she was really quite pathetic.
Shit.
She was running out of options.
A car drove past, catching her in its headlights. It slowed but then picked up speed. She was sitting on the ground in a hospital car park late at night. They probably thought she’d had some bad news or something. They’d be right.
Okay, last option. Very last. She’d keep the rendezvous with Jack, make sure Ryan and Maria were safe, and then she’d find a way to destroy the Key and everything and everyone in the vicinity. Unfortunately, that would include herself, because she couldn’t let the Key out of her sight. She couldn’t risk it getting into the wrong hands.
So it looked like this was it.
The end.
More shit.
But once the idea sank in, a sense of lightness flowed through her mind, easing the tension and conflict.
She’d lived a long life, and despite her hatred of being indebted to the demon, most of the time she’d been free to act as she wished. She’d seen and done some fabulous things: traveled to America with the first colonists, climbed the Inca trails, studied with the aborigines in Australia. She’d seen and done more than any human could ever hope for. She sort of regretted that she’d never get into space—a trip to the moon was on her to-do-list—but all the same, she’d lived a full life.
And now she was going to die a goddamn hero.
Hurray.
Well, sort of. She wasn’t completely resigned. There were other things she still wanted to do. Like get Piers Lamont naked and screw his brains out.
Where the hell had that thought come from?
But it refused to be dismissed. He’d be gorgeous, all long, lean muscle. And she’d felt him pressed against her—she was betting he was big. Probably huge. Her mouth went dry, and the muscles cramped in her belly at the thought.
She really shouldn’t torment herself this way. But then again—why not?
It was presumably her last night alive. Why shouldn’t she spend it making mad, passionate love with the vampire?
And she had to keep herself safe from Asmodai until tomorrow night. She couldn’t have him coming after her now, before she had done what she needed to do. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t follow her to the Order. She’d be safe there.
Well, as safe as you could be if your intention was to seduce a vampire.
She grinned, pulled out her cell phone, and hit speed dial.
“Any chance of someone picking me up?”
…
Piers stared at the phone. She’d hung up on him. Just given him the location and hung up. She’d sounded almost as tired as he was, though there had been something else in her voice, something he couldn’t identify.
What was she doing at a hospital? Was she hurt? He couldn’t believe the panic that had rushed over him when she mentioned the word hospital. She hadn’t said she was injured in any way, but then she hadn’t said much at all. At least she had called though. After the team lost her, it had occurred to him that she might just vanish; he would never see her again and he’d hated that. He’d been on edge all night.
He considered sending Graham to pick her up. He should really get back to work—try to find some trace of Andarta—but in the end, he decided to go himself. Because strangely, he wanted to see her, make sure she was safe. Protect her. Maybe even fight her demons.
And he needed the fresh air. He was exhausted and vaguely depressed. Since the call with Jack, he’d been working with Christian and Jonas, trying to locate where Andarta was hiding out. Jonas reckoned her magic was stronger than anything he could produce and so far, they’d found no trace of her. He also had Carl out hunting for Jack, but so far—ditto—no trace.
They needed to find the Key. Who could have taken it? Who else knew, other than Roz? She was the obvious suspect, and it was time she opened up a little and told him what was going on.
So how did he get her to understand that she wasn’t alone anymore? Maybe he should back off on the sex, let her see that he’d like to be her friend as well as her lover, talk with her, show her that she could trust him…
Since when had he sought friendship from a woman? Yeah, it was official—he was going soft. But he could do it. He’d never been good at waiting, but he reckoned Roz would be worth it.
It was past one in the morning and the roads were quiet. He drove along the embankment and then away from the river. When he pulled into the car park, he saw her straight away. She was sitting on the pavement, beside a black SUV, her head resting on her knees.
She peered up as he halted the car beside her, and his eyes narrowed. She’d been in some sort of a fight, her lower lip swollen and her right cheek grazed. He had a sudden urge to find whoever had done it and tear them apart. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down and think rationally.
He leaned across and pushed open the passenger door. She stood up slowly, as though something hurt but not too badly. She was dressed as she had been for their walk last night, in tight jeans, low on her hips, and a black sleeveless vest stretched over her full breasts. The vest stopped short of the jeans, leaving a strip of skin bare at her mid-riff. It also showed off the demon’s sigil.
“You all right?” he asked as she climbed in, her movements stiff.
“I’m fine.”
“You look like you’ve been in a fight.”
She managed a weak grin. “You should see the other guy.”
“So what are you doing here?”
For a moment, she didn’t seem to understand the question, then she glanced at the building behind them. “The hospital? Oh, it wasn’t for me. I was just visiting a friend.”
“And where’s your other friend, Sister Maria?”
She shrugged. “She decided to return to the mother house, in Devon. I was helping her sort out a car and driver.”
“She couldn’t wait until morning?”
“She didn’t want to. It’s been a hard few days for her. She needed to be among friends.”
That sort of made sense. It didn’t explain why they’d had to give his men the slip. If she’d just asked, he would have arranged for a car and driver. It pissed him off that she hadn’t come to him for help. It also didn’t explain who she had been fighting with and why. And he had a feeling she wasn’t going to tell him.
“Do you have the Key?” he asked.
“No.”
Well that was definite. He decided to leave it for now. She’d rested her head back, and her eyes were closed. In the dim glow of the streetlights, she appeared exhausted.
“Quit staring,” she muttered, and he forced his gaze back to the road.
As he pulled up in the underground garage beneath the Order, he had a feeling she was going to bolt. But instead, she turned to him as he switched off the engine, and smiled.
“You fancy a drink?” she asked.
For a moment, he thought he’d misheard. “A drink?”
She curved her lips into a smile. “I’m a bit strung out. It’s been a rough night. I just need to relax, and I don’t usually drink alone.”
He was pretty sure that was a lie.
“Please, Piers,” she murmured. “Come keep me company. I’m not going to be able to sleep, and it seems a pity to waste the night.” She rested a hand on his arm, and he tensed beneath the touch. She was coming on to him. But why?
More to the point, why did he care?
Just take what was offered. But some inner voice whispered, why now?
All the same, he might as well go along with this, see where she was heading. He studied her as the elevator carried them upward. There was something different in her face. She caught him staring and smiled serenely, and his senses went on alert. That was it. She appeared at peace. Serene was not a word he would have used to describe her. When she wasn’t acting, she was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. But there was no conflict in her dark brown eyes now. And it came to him.