Why did she think things were going to get a whole lot worse, very quickly? She bit back a grin at the idea, as Piers came up behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her back against the length of his body. She stiffened for a moment, before relaxing against him. There was no point in putting this off, and her “father” had better get used to the idea. From the horrified expression on his face, it looked like that was going to take some doing.
“Let go of her,” he snarled. “Do you mean to use her as a hostage for my good behavior? Even you wouldn’t stoop so low.”
“I might, if I had to, but in this case I don’t.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, nuzzling the side of her neck. Okay, so her father needed to know, and she wasn’t ashamed of Piers, but she had an inkling he was being an asshole.
“But don’t think I’m any happier about this development than you are,” Piers said. “I’d have run a mile if I’d realized who she really was.”
Roz elbowed him in the gut.
“Hey, I might have run, but I would have let you catch me…eventually.”
She pulled free. “Lay off winding him up. I thought you wanted his help.”
Piers sighed. “We do. But come on, Walker, tell me one thing. I get you had to leave them, but why not take them somewhere safe? Why not take them to the Faelands where they could be watched?”
“There were reasons.”
“Which were?”
“Nothing I wish to go into right now. But Rosamund, believe me, I was never ashamed of you or your mother. I loved you both. Give me the chance, and I’ll prove that to you.”
“The chance?”
“Come back with me now. Let me show you my world, my people.”
Roz searched his face. He appeared to be genuine. Maybe what Piers had hinted at was right. He should have tried harder. He should have kept them safe. She suspected he carried around a great weight of guilt for not doing that.
But she also knew that her memories of his love had not been lies. That he had cared for her back then. Could that emotion have survived over the intervening years? This was the man who would have slit his own niece’s throat just for some purity-of-the-blood shit ideals. The man who had just claimed he would stand by and watch humanity die with a smile on his face. It came to her then why he felt that way. “That’s why you hate them, isn’t it—because they killed my mother?”
He gave a sharp nod. “I failed your mother, but I promised myself that I would keep the rest of my people safe at any cost.”
“And you’re the type to hold a grudge,” Piers said. “You blame the demons for keeping you away. You blame the humans for killing her.”
“And I blame the vampires for not keeping better control. If you had done your jobs the war would not have broken out.”
“So basically you hate everyone except the fae. I suppose that explains a lot.”
“But I’m half-human,” Roz said. “So where does that leave me?” Unless witches weren’t human. But her mother had certainly looked human. Acted human—for the most part.
“You’re my daughter,” he replied. “But you’re not half-human.”
“I’m not?”
“Come back with me, and I’ll tell you everything.”
“Why not now?”
“This is not the place to talk of such things.”
“Come on, Walker, spit it out. What do you know?”
“Not here and not now.”
His tone was resolute. But much as Roz desperately wanted to discover what he could tell her, she wouldn’t go with him now. She had an idea things were going to go bad at any moment, and she wished to spend the intervening time with Piers. If they came through this alive, there would be time to get to know her father, to talk of her mother, to visit his homelands.
“When all this is over, then I’ll come.”
“You do know that with the Key, Andarta will be virtually indestructible?”
“Yeah, I know.”
After studying her for long moments, he reached up, lifted a chain from beneath his shirt, and pulled it over his head. A white gold band was strung on the chain. For a second he held it in front of his face, then he offered it to Roz. “This was the ring I found in the ashes. If you need me, hold it in your palm and wish. I will hear you.”
She took the chain from him, dangled it from one finger, watched as the light glinted off the curves. She remembered it on her mother’s finger, and bit her lip. Her mother had worn it every day and night, had never taken it off. She’d been wearing it the night she died.
“And will you come this time?” She hadn’t realized the bitterness she still harbored until the words slipped out.
Pain flashed across his face. “I will come.”
A cell phone went off behind her, and she jumped. Christian answered and spoke in low tones. When he looked back at them, his expression was grim.
“That was Carl. There’s been a demon attack at an army base in Surrey. Everyone slaughtered. It’s begun.”
“We must go and prepare for war. I will talk with my people, see if they are willing to fight beside you,” the Walker said. “If we survive this, we will renew our acquaintance. Until then…” He took the chain from her and lifted it over her neck. “Try not to think too badly of me.”
“You know,” Piers said, “I never thought I’d say it—but under that cold, mean, twisted exterior, there’s a soft, fluffy guy.”
“Piss off, Lamont.” He gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “I hold you responsible for her welfare.”
“Er, actually, I’m responsible for my own welfare,” Roz butted in.
Both men ignored her. “I’ll take care of her,” Piers replied.
“Good—now we must go.”
Fallon left Tara’s side and came to stand beside him. The mist gathered, and they were gone.
“Oh well, at least we know where you got that pigheaded streak,” Piers said as the fog faded.
“I have a pigheaded streak?”
“A mile wide, sweetheart. It’s one of the things I love about you.”
She bit back a smile—it was the first time he’d said he loved anything about her; even if it was her pigheaded streak, it made her feel all tingly.
Piers glanced around the rooftop, his gaze settling on Tara. “Hey, he left the cat—he must be mellowing.”
He was right; Tara still held the big gray cat in her arms. She put him down and the cat was gone, replaced by a young man with tousled blond hair and a big grin on his face.
Roz rubbed the ring that hung around her neck. Would the Walker come if she needed him? She hoped she would never have to test him, but she suspected in the time to come they were all going to be tested.
A few days ago, she’d had nothing. Now, she had a father, a lover, and the possibility of a whole new life, with people who understood her, were like her. Of course, on the down side, there was a good chance that the world as she knew it was going to end any moment.
Oh well, nothing was ever perfect.
Chapter Twenty-one
A week passed.
Piers received regular reports, and it was clear the chaos was escalating. Thousands had died, and the humans were beginning to see a pattern. The religious types were talking about Armageddon. The rest had no clue. The demon attacks left no survivors so there were no witnesses, but that couldn’t last.
Asmodai had brought back news of a vast army building in the Abyss. Andarta was gaining support, but Asmodai was amassing his own army of followers. The Walker had returned briefly and promised to come to their side once his people had organized their defenses. So far, there had been no attacks on the Faelands.
Within the Order, their focus was on finding Andarta, but anytime they got near, she simply opened another portal and vanished.