Bittersweet Darkness

by Nina Croft

  “The meetings are going fine,” Ash said, trying to focus his mind on business instead of Faith. “The first one was pointless—the guy was an asshole. Yesterday’s was an idiot, but the meeting today went well. I think we might have a candidate.”

  They were searching for potential people to invite to a meeting where they would reveal themselves to the select few. First though, they needed to make sure the select few were the right people for the job.

  “You agree?” Piers asked Ryan.

  “Yeah, the first guy was an asshole, the second lacked a brain cell. But we met a woman today. She seemed…open-minded.”

  “Useful?”

  “She’s near the top of Christian’s list. High up in the civil service.”

  “Well, that’s not bad. One out of three. Keep going.”

  “We will.”

  Ash was actually enjoying himself. While he’d never considered them as equals, he’d always found humans fascinating, and in the dim past, a good portion of his time had been spent on Earth. These days, under the Shadow Accords, their contact was limited. While the occasional seduction was ignored, anything more was frowned upon. And after the periodic wars between the demons and fae, the portals were locked. Of course they opened again eventually, nothing would keep them closed permanently.

  Now, if this came to fruition, then for the first time, humans would know the truth of their existence. Some of them might even visit the Abyss.

  Maybe he’d take Faith to his home. He had an image of her sprawled on the black fur covers in his huge bedroom at his castle in the Abyss.

  He had an idea that Faith wasn’t going to take the news that the ghosties and ghoolies—as she referred to them—really existed with a smile. She was so emphatic.

  He couldn’t wait.

  …

  Faith drummed her fingers on her desk and stared at the computer in disgust. She was beginning to hate this place. She glanced at the clock. Another hour until lunch.

  She hadn’t heard from Ash yet. They’d lunched together each day since that first time. And each evening he drove her home and dropped her off in front of her apartment. And each time she saw him, her decision to keep her distance eroded a little bit more.

  At night, as she lay in her bed, she fantasized and she gave herself a little release, but that only seemed to make her body crave him more.

  He’d kissed her last night in the front seat of his car like a couple of teenagers making out. And God, that man could kiss. Only the neighbors pulling up behind them and beeping their horn had put a halt to their lovemaking. By that time, Ash had one hand on her breast and the other on her belly and inching downward.

  She’d ached for his touch. A pulse throbbing between her thighs, and when he’d raised his head and gazed down into her face, a question in his eyes, she’d come so close to nodding.

  Only a second beep had brought her to her senses.

  If she liked him less, she might have given in. Because it would be just sex. But she did like him. And she couldn’t risk herself feeling more while she was using him and she suspected he was using her.

  Not that he was giving her much. He told her that if she took the job with them he’d tell her everything. His words had so much reflected her current situation at work that she’d been even more pissed off.

  Anyway, he’d driven off last night without arranging to see her for lunch today, and he hadn’t called yet. She hated how bad that made her feel. Maybe it would be better if she didn’t see him again, before she got in any deeper. But that thought made her feel even worse.

  She was a mess.

  On top of that, she still hadn’t heard from the hospital about her test results and that made her edgy.

  She eyed up the colonel as he crossed the floor to his office. He’d been avoiding her, probably because she moaned at him for something to do every time she saw him. But this time, he must have felt her evil-eyed stare because he glanced up and headed over.

  “The boss is expected this afternoon,” he said. “You should have your clearance by tomorrow morning.”

  “Will I meet him?” she asked. She was curious about “the boss.” The boss who the security guards had never met, which must mean that he came in through a different entrance and presumably skipped the retinal scan and all the other checks.

  “Perhaps.”

  As he left her, she sat back in her chair and grinned at her reflection in the dark screen. Tomorrow was the big day. She was finally going to learn something interesting. Or in the very least, she was going to discover that MI13 had nothing interesting for her to learn.

  When the phone on her desk did ring, she almost jumped. She glanced at the number. It was an external line, but she didn’t recognize the caller. Not Ash then and a jolt of disappointment stabbed her in the middle.

  She ignored it and picked up. “Hello, Detective Connelly speaking.”

  “Detective Connelly, it’s Tara Roth. We met briefly the other night.”

  “I remember.” Her mind was working furiously. What the hell did Christian Roth’s wife want with her?

  “Ryan suggested I call you.”

  “He did?” That didn’t make anything any clearer.

  “He said you had some doubts about coming to work for my husband’s company and thought I might be able to answer some questions for you.”

  It sounded reasonable but her detective senses were tingling. All the same, she was definitely interested.

  “That’s nice of you to take the time. Give me a moment, and I’m sure I’ll come up with a question or two.”

  “Actually, I thought we might meet for a drink tonight. I’m doing some shopping. We could meet up after you finish work.”

  “Why not? There’s a bar on the embankment called Happy Joe’s. How about that?”

  “I’ll find it.”

  After putting the phone down slowly, she glanced up at the colonel’s door, half expecting him to pop out and officially assign her to spy on Tara Roth.

  When nothing happened, the tension seeped out of her. She was getting paranoid. The colonel wouldn’t be monitoring her calls—would he?

  There were no more calls, despite her constant glare at the phone. She was being pathetic. Time to be proactive. She picked it up and punched in a number.

  “Hi, Pete. It’s Faith Connelly. I wondered whether you like to meet me for lunch.”

  Chapter Nine

  Faith was already seated at a table when Tara walked in. She recognized her from the other night. Small, her blond hair cut into a shoulder-length bob with a green baseball cap on top, and startling green eyes. She also recognized the woman with her, just as short but with spiky dark brown hair, an orange cap, and brown eyes. Rosamund Fairfax was pretty and perky and not a wart in sight—nothing like a witch.

  In fact, they both appeared so normal and sort of wholesome that Faith winced. She’d been on the police force since she’d left school fourteen years ago, and she spent a lot of time mixing with lower forms of life. People who looked like this didn’t tend to get mixed up with the police.

  She stood as they approached; she was a good six inches taller than either of them. Tara wore jeans, high-heeled sandals, and a pink T-shirt. Roz was dressed the same but her T-shirt was crimson and cropped at the waist baring her midriff with a matching ruby belly-button ring. They made Faith feel dull by comparison in her sensible black pantsuit and very conscious of the pistol shoved in the holster at the small of her back. She should have left it at the office, but she’d been severely reprimanded by the colonel when he’d realized she wasn’t wearing it on her second day and informed her it was compulsory at all times.

  Nice to know he was worried—probably scared the vamps or witches would get her. Though could you stop vamps and witches with bullets? She grinned at the thought.

  The two women had come to a halt in front of her, and both smiled. They appeared so open and friendly that she smiled back automatically.

  “Hi, Detective
Connolly,” Tara said. “I brought Roz along, I hope that’s okay.”

  “Of course, and call me Faith.” The waiter was hovering behind them. “Would you like a drink?”

  “Scotch for me,” Roz said taking the seat closest to her.

  “And I’ll have a Coke.” Tara sat opposite Faith, and she sat back down.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. She was drinking a glass of Rioja, rich, full-bodied, and nearly empty. “I’ll have another of these.”

  “Tara doesn’t drink,” Roz said as the waiter moved away. “Except on special occasions and when all the doors are locked.” She sounded amused and Faith glanced at the blonde, who was scowling good-naturedly.

  “Alcohol has a weird effect on me,” she said. “And I like coke.”

  Faith sat for a minute sipping her wine and wondering how to proceed. She didn’t have many women friends and she wasn’t good at small talk. Her job took all her time and her energy and even today, when there were more woman on the force, her level was still dominated by men.

  Tara wore a pendant hanging on a chain around her neck. Faith found her eyes drawn to the stone. At first, it appeared matte black, but when she peered closer, the black was inlaid with an intricate pattern in dark crimson.

  “I love your necklace,” she said. “It’s unusual.”

  “It is that,” Roz replied a grin on her face.

  Tara touched her finger lightly to the stone and shrugged. “My father gave it to me.”

  The waiter brought their drinks and still Faith couldn’t think how to begin. She had a list of questions, but it might be better to get the meeting off on a more friendly footing than treating Tara like a suspect in an interrogation.

  Roz relaxed in her seat sipping her scotch and looking vaguely entertained. Faith suspected that while she might not be a witch there was a good chance she was a bitch.

  “Have you two known each other long?” Faith asked. Maybe this was what connected Roz to Christian Roth; a little tingle of excitement ran through her.

  “No, not long. A month or so. We actually met through your friend, Ryan. Although it turns out we’re sort of distantly related.”

  Bugger. There went another theory. If they’d only known each other a month, they couldn’t be the connection that tied Christian Roth to the murder.

  “I’ve known Ryan a few years,” Roz offered.

  “I saw you once or twice at the station, but Ryan never introduced us.” It sounded like an accusation but Roz grinned again.

  “He said it would be a waste of time and you’d scoff at what I did, and you’d laugh at him for going along with it.”

  That made Faith sound like the bitch and she bristled defensively. “What is it you did exactly?”

  Roz shrugged as if to say why not? “I’m sort of…clairvoyant. I touch things and get a feeling for their owners—it helps me home in on them.”

  “And that’s how you found Jessica?”

  Roz nodded.

  “Piers says it’s very useful as he’s always losing things,” Tara added.

  “Piers?”

  “Piers is my…boyfriend.” Roz smiled as though the idea amused her.

  “I believe you both also know Ash?” Faith said.

  Tara scowled. “I don’t know him that well.”

  Her tone made it sound as though she was happy to keep it that way. No love lost there then. Why could that be?

  It had given her a little twitch of pleasure when she got back from a very pleasant if unexciting lunch with Pete to find she had missed a call from Ash. Served him right. She half expected him to call and offer her a lift home, but maybe he knew she was meeting with Tara.

  She turned to study Roz. Would she admit to how well she had once known Ash?

  Roz swallowed the last of her scotch and held up the glass for a refill. “Me and Ash go way back. I wouldn’t say we’ve ever been friends, but we’ve been close. I’ve known him for years but most of the time it’s been more of a…working relationship.”

  That tied in with what Ash had told her.

  “So you’ve started a new job,” Tara said. “That must be exciting.”

  “Not so you’d notice. But things might be looking up. The boss comes back from wherever he’s been hiding tomorrow, so I should get cleared for more work.”

  She thought that much was safe to say—not giving away any state secrets.

  “Ryan thinks you’d be a great addition to my husband’s company. Is that why you said no—because of the new job?”

  “Among other things. So tell me about your husband and why I’d like to work for him.”

  “Because Christian is a good man. He’s honest, law-abiding, and he runs one of the biggest privately owned companies in the world. The opportunities are endless.”

  “And interesting,” Roz added. “Ryan says you’re a great detective. You could still do that as part of the investigative division.”

  “So I wouldn’t be working with Ryan?”

  “Probably not. He said that diplomacy wasn’t your strong point.”

  “Did he?” Bastard—how dare he say she wasn’t diplomatic? She could be if she tried. Just most of the time, she never saw the point in trying.

  “He said you were straight and to the point and always said exactly what you thought. He meant it as a compliment.”

  “Besides,” Roz added. “He’s working with Ash, and strangely they seem to be getting on well together.”

  “And I suppose Ash can be diplomatic?”

  Roz grinned. “He can be a smooth bastard when he wants to.”

  “And a total bastard the rest of the time,” Tara muttered.

  Definitely no love lost there.

  She fired off a few more questions about the company and got totally innocuous answers in return. The truth was it did sound a fantastic opportunity. But she wanted to be a policewoman. She changed the subject.

  “So how did you meet, Christian?” she asked. “I mean he’s supposed to be like a total recluse.”

  “Not really; he has close friends. But I actually employed CR Investigations to trace my family after the aunt who bought me up died. Christian found the case interesting and took over the investigation.”

  “And the rest is history,” Roz added.

  Tara grinned back as though they shared a secret, and Faith had a sudden urge to be included in their little circle. Then Tara’s expression became serious. “He’s a good man, and I love him with all my heart.”

  Hmm, that was nice, but she knew that love could make you blind to all sorts of issues. She’d seen it again and again. People who protected their loved ones, lied to the police, hid evidence, all because they couldn’t believe the objects of their devotion could do any wrong. She turned to Roz.

  “And do you agree with that?”

  “Well, I don’t love him—not that he isn’t loveable—but yes, he’s a good man.”

  Faith was getting nowhere. Maybe it was time to try a little shock tactics.

  “So he is a man? Because I’d heard rumors he was a vampire.”

  Tara laughed. “I’ll have to tell him that one.”

  Roz batted her lashes. “Really, Faith. You don’t believe in witches, but you do believe in vampires? How open-minded of you.”

  Faith looked her in the eye. “You found Jessica. You know what was done to her.”

  Roz shrugged but said nothing. Tara leaned forward. “Faith, there are things we can’t tell you. Things told to us in confidence. But come and work with us and I’m sure you’ll learn what you need to know.”

  “Maybe. But I need to solve this case first.”

  “Why does it mean so much to you?”

  Suddenly Faith wanted to tell someone, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words so she gave her usual general answer. “Because a lot of people are murdered and a lot of killers escape justice. There needs to be people who care, people unwilling to let go.”

  “You’re right,” Tara said. “But there a
re resources you could use at CR. There’s no reason why you couldn’t keep up the investigation from there.”

  Faith frowned. Something didn’t quite add up here. “You know the old saying—if something sounds too good to be true it probably is? I’m sort of thinking this whole thing seems way too good and I don’t get it. I’m good at my job, but not that good. Why me?”

  “Because we go on personal recommendation more than anything. We need people we can trust. And Ryan recommended you.”

  Hmm. She wasn’t entirely convinced. She rubbed her scalp, where she could feel the first glimmer of an incipient headache. She so didn’t need that right now. Picking up her bag, she found the bottle of pills, and washed one down with a gulp of red wine. When she glanced up, Roz was watching her, an expression of sympathy on her pretty face which put Faith’s back up. She didn’t need sympathy.

  “Okay. Thanks for meeting me. I’ll give it some thought.”

  “Well, phone if you have any more questions or want a chat.” Tara handed her a card, and a minute later Roz handed her a second.

  Faith called for the bill but Tara insisted on paying. Which was fair enough; she was married to a billionaire.

  Outside it was still daylight and they walked along the embankment together. She presumed Tara and Roz were heading back to CR and wherever it was that Roz lived.

  “Do you live in the CR building as well?” she asked.

  “No. I live with Piers about a mile away,” she replied.

  Faith was heading to the nearest tube station. She’d been spoiled getting a lift home each evening.

  The skin down her back prickled. Her detective senses were tingling. She peered at the two women walking beside her, but they appeared relaxed, murmuring softly to each other. On their left, there was just the barrier and then the river. A tourist boat was drifting by but she could see nothing out of place.

  “Faith?”

  Roz had asked her a question, and she hadn’t heard a word. “Sorry.”

  To the right was the road. The traffic moved slowly. A red double-decker bus went past, a couple of black cabs. Everything nice and normal, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching them, focusing on their little group.