Bittersweet Magic (22 page)

He was hungry. He usually didn’t have to feed all that often—the older the vampire, the less frequency he or she needed to feed. And as vampires went, he was old. But he’d been using a lot of energy, and there was something about Roz that made his gums ache.

He remembered the taste of her, so sweet, and the heat in his belly dropped lower, pooling in his groin. His cock stirred in his pants, and he shifted uncomfortably.

He wanted nothing more than to sink his fangs into her pretty throat while he thrust his cock into her willing body. And something told him she was after the same thing. The thought cooled his blood.

Why? Was he such an asshole that he had to be the one doing the running?

Maybe.

But he didn’t think that was it. With anyone else, he would have taken what was on offer. But he’d decided he needed to back off with Roz and now—

“I wish I had something more suitable to wear.”

He whirled around at the sound of her voice. She stood in the doorway, dressed in nothing but a fluffy white towel, which left bare the tops of her breasts and the length of her legs.

“More suitable for what?”

He knew he sounded surly, and a frown flickered across her face.

“What’s the matter with you?” she asked.

He should have known she’d take the direct approach. “Nothing.” Definitely surly.

She bit her lip and crossed the room to stand in front of him, holding out her hand. “Drink?” she said when he remained motionless.

He handed her the glass and watched as she lifted it to her mouth, swallowed in one gulp, then held out the glass for more. She licked her lips, and his groin tightened almost painfully. “Can I have some more?” Her voice was a low, husky drawl. “Please.”

He reached behind him for the bottle and poured her another.

As she sipped it, she watched him over the rim of the glass. She should have looked a mess—her lip was swollen and a bruise was forming on her cheek—but she didn’t. She looked totally desirable and that just pissed him off more. What the hell was wrong with him?

“What happened tonight?” he asked.

This time the frown stayed. “Nothing that need interest you.”

“Oh, but I am interested.”

“Well, it’s really none of your goddamn business.” The words were sweetly spoken but had a certain finality to them.

Turning away, she tucked the ends of the towel in more firmly before heading for the sofa. She reclined in the corner, curling her legs beneath her and gazing at him from beneath her thick lashes. She even fluttered them a couple of times.

Beneath that towel, she was naked. He knew it. The thought was driving him wild.

“Why don’t you come and sit down?” She patted the cream leather beside her.

Why didn’t he?

When he didn’t move, she shook her head. “Why are you being so difficult?”

“Why are you coming on so strong?”

“What? You don’t like a woman to take control?”

“I do.”

“Just not me?”

“I want to understand why the change. Yesterday, you told me to piss off. And now, tonight, for some reason, you want to use me.”

“Use you?” Her tone was incredulous. And really, he couldn’t blame her. Was he crazy? Why didn’t he just take what was offered and enjoy?

Because he wanted more than what she was offering. Maybe even more than friends.

He was being an idiot. He forced the idea from his mind. After all, what else was there? He’d never aspired to anything else. He took the three steps to the couch and sat down next to her, but he couldn’t get rid of the feeling that something wasn’t right. He sat staring straight ahead and heard her sigh beside him.

“You know, I somehow assumed this was going to be easier,” she muttered.

He knew it. She’d intended to seduce him all along. This wasn’t some spontaneous gesture when she’d suddenly realized that she couldn’t resist him. She’d planned it from when he had picked her up. Hell, probably before that, when she’d phoned him. He was probably just a convenient male body she could let off some steam with. Like a toy. Like her vibrator. It didn’t matter who he was.

A movement beside him cut off the thought. She’d put down her drink and now she turned quickly on the seat, throwing one leg over his knee so she faced him, straddling his thighs.

She sank down so she rested on his throbbing shaft, and he had to bite back a groan. Reaching between them, she loosened the knot on the towel and parted the material, baring the length of her body. Then she leaned in close and kissed the corner of his mouth.

He couldn’t resist, and he didn’t move as she shifted even closer and slanted her mouth over his. For long minutes, he drowned in the kiss, trying to close off the questions that kept buzzing at his brain. Her tongue pushed inside his mouth as she deepened the kiss. He could feel the softness of her breasts against his chest, her nipples hard little points pressing insistently against him.

She rocked her hips, rubbing against his cock, and it felt indescribably good. But not good enough.

He glanced up and caught sight of the triumph on her face.

“Why?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Why what?”

“Why me? Why now?”

“But Piers, you told me if I required relief I had to come to you.”

And at the time, she’d told him to piss off. What had changed? Why couldn’t he leave it alone, just take what she was offering? Instead, he put his hands to her hips and lifted her off him, placing her gently on the sofa before passing her the towel, which had completely fallen off.

She clutched it in her lap, not bothering to try and cover herself. Her eyes were almost black, and she glared up at him. “So you don’t want me?”

“No.” God, that was about the biggest lie he’d ever told, but he realized while he desired her, he wanted to know what was going on more than he wanted a quick shag...Which was a first.

“Really? I somehow find that hard to believe, considering the bulge I can see in your pants.”

“Maybe I do want you. But I also want to understand why you’re coming on so strong.”

“Does it somehow injure your male pride for me to take the lead?” Her lip curled up in a sneer of scorn. “You know, you’re not still living in the Dark Ages. Things have moved on. Women are allowed to make the first move these days.”

He knew that, and he had no objection. Usually.

“Or maybe you’re scared you’ll be a huge disappointment after all the big talk.”

She nearly had him with that one. But he held his ground. She needed to talk to him. Tell him what she was feeling.

That brought him up short.

Since when had he been concerned about “feelings”? Obviously, this whole Andarta thing was getting to him. Andarta had been the only woman he had ever loved. But what did love have to do with anything?

He glanced at Roz and realized he wanted more than this from her. He didn’t know what, but definitely more.

When he didn’t answer, mainly because he was speechless, shut down by his own wayward thoughts, she rose jerkily to her feet. The towel fell to the floor, and she stalked completely naked to the front door.

Yanking it open, she stood to the side and gestured to the hallway beyond. She was gorgeous. For a moment, he admired her. Maybe she wasn’t today’s idea of what was beautiful, but to him she was perfection. He was insane. Totally fucking insane.

“Out,” she snapped.

He crossed the room but paused at the door. “Will you be all right?”

She stared at him as though the question made no sense. Then her expression cleared, and she smiled sweetly. “Yes, I’ll be all right. Because guess what? Thanks to you, I’ve got my vibrator, so I don’t need some dick who can’t make up his mind whether he wants me or not. Maybe the hot-cold thing works with some women but not with me.”

There wasn’t a lot he could say to that—at least not that would make sense. So he walked out the door.

It slammed behind him, and he heard something smash against the wood. He was betting it wasn’t the scotch.

He ran a hand through his hair. What was the matter with him? He could be in there now, lodged deep inside her, drinking her down, feeling her come apart beneath him. Or on top of him or…Whatever she believed, he liked women who knew what they wanted and weren’t shy about asking for it.

No, it wasn’t the fact that she was pursuing him that bothered him. It was why she was doing it. There was an edge of desperation to her actions, and he wanted to understand her.

He was still hard, and his balls ached for some sort of relief. But it was late. Dawn came early at this time of year, and when he made love with Roz, he wanted the time to enjoy it. Tomorrow night would be soon enough. Maybe if she had the day to think about why he’d acted this way, she would come up with the right answer. And maybe she might even share it with him.

On the other hand, if she didn’t, he reckoned it was only fair to let her seduce him. Otherwise, she might get a complex. Start thinking she was undesirable. No, tomorrow night, he would give in.

…

Roz stared at the closed door.

Well, that hadn’t gone as planned.

She glanced down at herself. She was naked and hadn’t even noticed. Where the hell was that stupid towel?

It wasn’t that he hadn’t desired her. She had felt him, full and hard, beneath her. Tasted the need in his kiss.

She realized how much she had relied on this to keep her from thinking. To blank her mind of the future, or rather the lack of a future. She’d decided what she was going to do. And she wouldn’t back down.

But she was afraid. In truth, she didn’t wish to die now any more than she had five hundred years ago.

It was just that now she had learned there was a price to pay to hold on to that life. And this time the price was too high.

But she’d needed someone to hold her. More than that, she’d wanted
Piers
to hold her, to make love to her, to make her feel she was not alone through the last hours of this last night.

But the truth was, she was alone. As she had always been alone.

She went to the bedroom and crawled into bed, dragged the pillow into her arms, and hugged it tight. For the first time since her mother had died, she curled up in a ball and cried.

Chapter Fourteen

Roz must have managed to sleep eventually. She woke feeling terrible, then remembered why and felt even worse.

How were Ryan and Maria feeling right now? That blood-sucking bastard better not have touched them.

Thinking about blood-sucking bastards brought back the scene with Piers, and she pulled the pillow over her head and groaned. At least she would never see him again. Hopefully she would be long gone before he got up out of his coffin—or wherever it was he spent the daylight hours. Why didn’t that thought make her happier?

After showering, she dressed quickly in jeans and a T-shirt, sneakers on her feet just in case she had to run. Then she sat and sipped a cup of coffee while she decided what to do first. The truth was she needed help, and she had very limited choices. Before she left, she checked her cell phone. There were three messages from Shera. Asmodai must be looking for her. What a surprise—but he’d have to wait. It would do him good.

She took the private elevator down to the reception area. The place buzzed with activity this morning, but it was nine o’clock, the start of the working day for most ordinary people—and the people milling about appeared very much like ordinary human beings.

The woman from the other day was behind the desk. She didn’t appear to recognize Roz in her normal gear, which was hardly surprising—people tended not to see beyond the nun’s habit. It was what had made it such a good disguise.

“I need to see Jonas,” she said. She realized she didn’t have his last name. What was she supposed to say—Jonas the “warlock”? She had no clue whether this woman was aware of what went on below ground…Though she had known Piers, and she’d been wary of waking him during the day, so chances were she knew of the Order.

Roz hoped she could help, because if she couldn’t then she was going to have to contact Tara. And she’d rather not do that, because Tara would tell Christian and Christian would tell…

“I’m afraid Jonas is not in the building right now.” She gave Roz a dazzling smile that was all on the surface.

“Do you know where I can find him?”

“He’s probably at the Crooked Hat.”

“The Crooked Hat?”
Where the hell is that?

“It’s a public house in the East End. Jonas lives there when he doesn’t stay here.”

“Okay, can you give me the address?”

“No problem, Ms. Fairfax.” So she did know who Roz was. The woman scribbled an address down on a notepad by her desk and handed the paper to her. She glanced at it before shoving it in her pocket. “But Mr. Lamont left orders that if you wanted to leave the building, then Carl would take you wherever you would like to go.”

“Carl?”

Didn’t she remember Tara mentioning a Carl? Wasn’t he a werewolf? She was almost tempted to let him take her just so she could meet him. She’d never met a werewolf before, and today would be her last chance. But she could do without being lumbered with a bodyguard she would no doubt have to lose at some point during the day.

“He’s head of security here. I’ll call him for you.”

Roz smiled. “No, don’t do that. I’d much rather take a cab.”

The woman opened her mouth but Roz didn’t wait for her to speak, just turned around and strode out of the building. She half-expected someone to stop her, but she was out on the street without anyone trying.

It was a gorgeous day and she tried not to think about the fact that it was her last. Instead, she headed off at a fast walk and managed to pick up a cab a couple of blocks down. She gave him the address of the Crooked Hat.

The journey took forty minutes, mainly because the traffic was so busy at this time of day. He finally let her out in a pretty rundown area—a mix of residential houses and small businesses. The Crooked Hat was a pub, with a sign over the door showing a wizard’s tall hat, slightly bent in the middle. The pub appeared no better than the rest of the area, the dark red paint peeling off the door.