Bittersweet Darkness Read online

  “Not necessarily. But we believe he might be implicated.”

  “So he’s a vampire?” She snorted. “Yeah, of course he is. Christian Roth, billionaire businessman and vampire. You’re crazy.”

  “How did your partner find Jessica Thomas?”

  The question came from Father O’Brien. She frowned. “He’s a good detective?”

  “Oh, we believe it was more than that. We keep an eye on these things and we think he had help. You were present that night. Tell me—was there a woman with him? A woman you didn’t know, though maybe you’d seen her before. A woman who is now working for CR International along with your former partner?”

  The woman Jessica wanted to talk to.

  “Who is she?” Faith asked.

  Father O’Brien answered. “Witch.”

  “Oh, please,” she muttered. “Next you’ll be saying that Ryan is Harry Potter in disguise or something. Anyway, she so didn’t look like a witch.” She’d looked sweet in fact, sweet and sort of wholesome.

  “What do you expect, warts and a pointy hat? Evil is all around us, Detective. We cannot ignore that, and it is our duty to fight it wherever we can.”

  He was beginning to sound a little fanatical and his eyes gleamed. The colonel whispered a word to him and he settled back in his seat but drummed his long, bony fingers on the table.

  “The woman’s name is Rosamund Fairfax. And actually, we don’t think your partner is anything other than what he seems,” the colonel said. “But we do believe he has gotten mixed up in things beyond his comprehension and is very possibly in danger.”

  “Yeah, and I’m the only one who can help him. I think Ryan is big enough and ugly enough to take care of himself. And I’m not working against him, so I suggest you find yourself another stooge.”

  No way would she believe Ryan was into anything dodgy. He was one of the good guys, always would be.

  The colonel pursed his lips and shrugged. “I’d like you to think about what we’ve said.” He pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Call me when you’re ready to see that evidence.”

  He rose to his feet, as did Father O’Brien. “May the Lord be with you and may he open your eyes to the truth.”

  Faith bit back the urge to tell him to piss off. She watched as they walked out the door unable to stifle the feeling that that wasn’t the last she would see of them. The thought made her uncomfortable. She dismissed their talk of evidence. She doubted they would have anything that could make a dent in her firm conviction that the supernatural world was a load of bullshit. There was no such thing as vampires or witches, only individuals who couldn’t deal with the fact that people could be more evil than any monster they could invent. As for God and the devil—more crap.

  She rubbed her forehead. At least the meeting had taken her mind off the bomb in her brain. But something told her that her time was running out. If she wanted to solve this case, she’d better get a move on. She also wanted to talk to Ryan, warn him about what was going on. He’d been a great detective and given nearly twenty years to the force. He didn’t deserve to be under suspicion now, and she wanted to give him a heads-up.

  And she reckoned she had a way to do both, warn Ryan and get a handle on her case. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and punched in a number.

  “Jessica, it’s Detective Connolly. I think I’ve found your mystery woman.”

  …

  “Are you done yet?” Asmodai made no attempt to keep the impatience from his voice. Probably not wise considering whom he was dealing with, but Lucifer’s expression showed nothing but amusement.

  “This is so good,” he murmured as he glanced up from where he was bent over the table, working on the talisman.

  “It is?” Asmodai’s question came out as a snarl and Luc’s lips twitched. Great.

  “Yeah. Asmodai, the big bad demon, Prince of Darkness, brought to his knees by an itty-bitty girl.”

  “Tara is my daughter, and I’m not on my knees.”

  “Maybe not yet, but I could put you there any time I like.”

  “Piss off.” Unfortunately, though, it was true; he’d put himself under Luc’s power by asking for this favor. But his daughter was in danger. Raphael had been spotted, and rumor had it that there were Avenging Angels on the loose, and while they weren’t specifically after Tara, she could be harmed in the cross fire. He needed to get her what protection he could, regardless of the price. All the same, his fingers trembled with the need to rub the demon’s sigil wrapped around his upper arm—the mark of his debt, which would remain until that debt was paid. Hopefully, soon and not too painfully.

  Finally, Luc straightened, the talisman dangling from one long finger—a black, heart-shaped crystal on a white-gold chain. Asmodai stepped forward to take it, and a shiver of magic ran through him as Luc laid the jewel on his palm. He closed his fist around it.

  “So you think this will make a difference?” Luc asked. “That your daughter will forgive you in exchange for such a trivial thing.”

  “Hardly trivial.”

  “She’s half fae,” Luc continued. “They’re vindictive bastards.”

  “She’s also half demon.”

  “Yeah, right, and of course we’re known for our forgiving natures.” The tone was definitely sarcastic. “Isn’t that what got you into this? Trying to get your revenge on Christian Roth?”

  Christian Roth was his daughter’s husband. But that was a recent occurrence. Twenty-three years ago, during the last demon war, he’d been head of The Order of the Shadow Accords, the organization set up over a thousand years ago to police the supernatural world and ensure the demons and fae didn’t destroy humanity with their perpetual wars.

  At the end of the war, Roth had stripped Asmodai of his powers and banished him to the Abyss. Lillian, his wife, was pure fae and unable to follow. She’d been stranded on Earth alone and pregnant.

  Asmodai had believed both she and their child had perished, and he had held Christian Roth responsible. As soon as he’d regained his powers, he’d gone after the vampire. Needing him to feel the same pain, he’d sent minions after the people Christian loved. One of those people had been Tara, though Asmodai hadn’t known then that she was his daughter. Tara had survived, but her best friend had been killed in her stead. It hadn’t been a good death and Tara, quite rightly, blamed him.

  It wasn’t in his nature to feel remorse, but he wanted his daughter’s love and her safety. Hence this deal.

  “You’ll be in touch when you want your…payment.”

  “As it happens, I have a job for you right now.”

  “You do?”

  “Someone has approached me for a demon representative for their new committee.”

  Asmodai cast him a look of disbelief. “I don’t do fucking committees. I don’t play well with others. You should know that.”

  Luc smirked. “You will now, old friend. Actually, I’m doing you a favor. This should fit right in with your plans.”

  “It should?” Why did he doubt that?

  “Yes. You’re the demon representative of the brand-new Committee for the Integration of Mankind and…well…other kinds. Including us.”

  Asmodai narrowed his eyes. “The Order’s new initiative?” He’d heard rumors that the Order was gearing up for some big changes. But he hadn’t planned to be any part of them—he was as integrated as he wanted to be. Humans with their frail existences and short lifespans held very little interest for him.

  “Yes. And they’re expecting you five minutes ago. At least you’ll get the chance to hand over your gift.”

  A committee? But really what choice did he have? And Luc was right. Tara was bound to be there. He gave a brisk nod and headed for the door.

  As he exited the building, he spread his wings and launched into the air. He headed for the nearest place where the walls between worlds was thin and spoke the words to open a gateway to the Earth.

  This particular portal opened into
an alley at the back of the CR International offices, in the business district of London. Asmodai took his human form as he stepped through, then closed it with a wave of his hand and made his way around to the front of the building. He pushed through the glass double doors and into the large reception area.

  Graham, Christian’s red-haired human servant, sat behind the desk. He appeared a little harassed, and Asmodai hung back while he dealt with the two women in front of him. Though on closer inspection, one woman and one girl. Asmodai dismissed the girl as uninteresting, but something about the woman drew his attention, which was strange in itself. It had been so many years…

  She was tall and bordered on too thin. Her hair was long and dark and pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore a plain black pantsuit and no makeup. Obviously, a woman uninterested in men. That intrigued him, because she was attractive with expressive gray eyes, white skin, and a wide mouth, her lips red even without lipstick.

  And whatever she was saying was pissing Graham off.

  “Look, I know Ryan works here, so you might as well just call him up and tell him I’d like to see him.”

  Graham sighed. “Your name?”

  “Detective Faith Connelly.” She pulled a badge from her pocket and flashed it at Graham. A policewoman. That was where she got her air of authority. “And while you’re at it, tell him Jessica is here to talk to Rosamund Fairfax.”

  Now, that was interesting. He glanced at the girl. She had a fragile look and a bleakness in her eyes.

  Graham spotted him. He swallowed and gave him a brief nod before turning back to the woman. “I’m afraid Mr. Ryan is in an important meeting right now, Detective.”

  Yeah, the “important meeting” Asmodai was no doubt late for. Christ, he was part of a committee.

  How had he sunk so low?

  Well, when you made a deal with the devil, you had no choice but to pay his price. And if this was the sum total of his bill, then he’d gotten off lightly.

  “If you leave a number,” Graham continued, “I’m sure he’ll call.”

  “You are?” the woman replied. “Unfortunately, I’m not. We’ll wait if you don’t mind. Just tell him we’re here.”

  “I’ll tell him,” Asmodai said from behind her.

  She whirled around, her eyes widening as she caught sight of him. Her gaze ran over him a couple of times, and those pretty lips turned down in a frown as though she didn’t like what she saw. “You know Ryan?”

  “Yes, I know Ryan. I’m Ash,” he murmured and held out his hand. “Ashton Delacourt.” She stared at his hand for a moment as though it might bite. Then she reached out slowly. Her palm was cool, which was odd, as warmth flooded his body at her touch. Nerves—long dormant—tingled into life. He closed his fingers around her and held on until she tugged free.

  “You’re here for the meeting?” Graham asked him. “They’ve already started. I’ll get one of the security guards to take you down.”

  Asmodai nodded and turned back to the woman. “I’ll tell Ryan you’re here, Detective. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see one of his old colleagues.”

  “You might be sure, but I’m not,” Detective Faith Connelly replied.

  Chapter Two

  “Holy freaking moly,” Faith muttered.

  “Is that the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?” Jessica spoke in hushed tones from beside her.

  “Very probably,” Faith replied without thinking.

  Jess giggled, sounding for once like the schoolgirl she was. Faith leaned her butt on the reception desk, folded her arms across her chest, and watched as Ash Delacourt walked away. He moved with the grace of a big cat, almost flowing across the marble floor. He had to be six five, and long and lean in black leather pants and a full-length coat.

  He turned as he reached the elevator and caught her gaze. Her breath quickened.

  Yup, it was official. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Though beautiful wasn’t quite the right word. His skin was pale, shadowed over his jaw, his cheekbones sharp, his eyes dark, and his lips full.

  Definitely worth a holy moly or two if you went for the bad-boy type, which Faith didn’t.

  Even so, she couldn’t take her eyes from the vision of raw masculine power until finally the elevator doors closed behind him and she breathed again. Someone coughed and she turned to see the receptionist watching her, a flash of amusement in his eyes.

  “What?” she muttered.

  He shook his head. “Nothing, Detective.”

  “Good.”

  “Would you like to take a seat? I can get you some coffee, tea…a double brandy?”

  Obviously, she was looking as shell-shocked as she felt. She sniffed and mustered her dignity. “No, thank you. I’ll just wait over here. Come along, Jessica.”

  …

  Piers Lamont, current head of the Order of the Shadow Accords, glanced up as Asmodai slipped into the room. “You’re late,” he snapped. “And who the fuck invited you anyway?”

  “I did.” Christian rose to his feet, probably sensing an imminent fight. Oh goody. Asmodai had been bored recently, restless. This might actually be just the diversion he needed, and with the added incentive of a chance to get close to Tara. After casting him a blatantly disinterested glance as he’d entered, she’d pointedly turned away. She was stubborn. Like him.

  “We have representatives from all the main races,” Christian continued, his tone reasonable. “I asked the Demon Council, and I guess this is who they thought most appropriate. And they’re right. Of all of them, he’s the one who has had the most contact with mankind.”

  It was strange to hear Christian defending him. At one point Asmodai’s whole existence had focused on destroying the vampire and everyone he loved and cared for. But if his daughter loved him, then Asmodai would put aside his own need for revenge.

  Asmodai turned back to Piers. “I’m sure Rosamund is pleased to have me here,” he said and tensed himself for Piers’s attack.

  The other man didn’t like him. He hated the idea that Asmodai had had Roz under his protection for centuries. That he’d slept with Roz. Well, maybe not slept, but they’d been lovers a few centuries ago. Asmodai didn’t blame him; he actually thought Piers was showing amazing restraint.

  It occurred to him that he’d been celibate for over twenty years, and maybe he was ready for a little recreational fun. Certainly not with Roz, but an image of the detective he’d just met flashed up in his mind and the heat caught fire. How strange.

  Roz answered him. “Piss off, Ash.” She turned to Piers. “Ignore him—he’s trying to wind you up.”

  Asmodai chuckled. She knew him too well.

  “Could we get back to work here?” Piers snarled, showing the tip of one sharp white fang. “Ryan you were saying…?”

  Ryan was the Order’s new human-liaison officer. An ex-detective with the metropolitan police, he had inadvertently gotten involved with the Order’s business and been offered a choice: be killed, be mind-fucked, or join them. Not so strangely, he’d decided to join them. He was okay…for a human.

  Now he rose to his feet, shoved his hands in his pockets, and scowled. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “You want me to set up meetings with various organizations, government, military, and so on, and see how receptive they are to the somewhat improbable idea of your existence?”

  “Yeah,” Piers replied. “That about sums it up.”

  Ryan didn’t appear impressed. “You know they might just toss me in the loony bin and throw away the key.”

  “If they do, we’ll come and get you out…eventually.” Piers grinned. “But you’re going in as an employee of CR International. That should at least get you a hearing before they fit you for the straitjacket.”

  CR International was Christian’s company—set up after he’d left the Order over twenty years ago—and very successful. Propping himself against the wall, Asmodai let the conversation wash over him while he studied Tara. Perhaps his gift would pleas
e her.

  She hated him. And while she bore no resemblance to him physically, he had quickly discovered that she was as unforgiving as any demon.

  “Do I go to these meetings alone?” Ryan asked.

  “No,” Piers replied.

  “So…?”

  Piers looked around the room and a small smile settled on his face. “Asmodai will go with you. He’ll be your partner. He can dress up smart and play nice and human. It will do him good, teach him restraint.”

  “Hey, I am smart.” Asmodai peered down at himself. He was dressed pretty much the same as Piers in black leather pants and a black T-shirt, a leather duster coat covering him almost to the ankles.

  “Right,” Ryan said. “I’m going in there with a fucking demon. Great. Just great.”

  “It could be worse,” Asmodai replied. “You could be going in there with a fucking fairy.”

  “Good point,” Ryan murmured.

  “And at least I blend in a little,” Asmodai pointed out. “I mean, I could have worn my sword if I’d wanted to look like a total asshole.”

  Everyone turned to the Walker, who shrugged. The Walker was a fae assassin as well as an asshole. While Asmodai could pass for human if he made the effort—albeit a pretty scary human—the fae never tried to blend in. The Walker looked like he was wearing fancy dress, in tight pants, long boots, and a sword at his side. Dickhead.

  Asmodai forced down his revulsion. The world was changing. His people knew that and the old hatreds had to be set aside. At least until they had sorted out the new and growing threat of what to do about mankind.

  “Can you do that mind-wiping thing like these two?” Ryan nodded toward Christian and Piers.

  “Not quite the same but something similar. Enough to stop you from getting thrown in the loony bin if things go bad.”

  “Great.”

  “Okay,” Piers said. “The other things we need to talk about are angels.”

  “Do we have to?” Roz muttered.

  A month ago, they had discovered that Roz was quarter angel. Angels hated any beings with mixed blood. They knew of Roz’s existence and wanted her dead. The Order was breaking the rules by not handing Roz over, and war could erupt at any moment.