Bittersweet Darkness

by Nina Croft

  She flinched, probably at the casual reference to killing. “Do you know why he killed her?”

  “No. It was a mystery, because while he was an asshole, he wasn’t a total idiot. He wouldn’t have done it without a reason.”

  Faith sat back and sipped her drink, obviously deep in thought. After a second her eyes narrowed as though she’d reached a conclusion she didn’t particularly like. “They had a file on my mother at MI13,” she said. “When I first saw it, it had a classification code ‘F.’ I looked that up, and it stands for fund-raiser.”

  “What are you thinking?” Christian asked.

  Ash saw where her mind was going. “How would a government department that researches the supernatural get funding, especially if no one believes in it?” he murmured.

  Her gaze flashed to his. “Fucking hell. Those bastards paid someone to murder my mother to get a budget increase.”

  Ryan came back at that moment and handed her a plate with a sandwich. She took it almost absently and started eating. “I can’t believe it. They’re government; they’re the good guys.”

  She had an extremely naive view of who the good guys were, Ash realized. And no doubt, the bad guys as well. And he knew which category he would fall under.

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe he’s been dead all these years. And I can’t believe he was a vampire. So are there more of you?”

  Christian nodded. “Most of the people who work at the Order are vampires.”

  Her gaze darted to Ryan. “You’re not a vampire are you—it’s not compulsory is it?”

  Ryan grinned baring his teeth, which were perfectly normal.

  “And I know Ash isn’t a vampire,” she continued.

  Once again, he considered explaining what he was but decided to wait until later. Because he had a notion things might not go too smoothly after that, and he wanted a chance to kiss her again. And hopefully do a whole lot more. Though it didn’t seem as though he was going to get his opportunity to lock her in his dungeon and have his evil way with her. That was a big disappointment. Perhaps he could convince her it was a good idea.

  He understood why she had acted as she had. And he was sure Christian no longer held her responsible for Tara’s kidnapping. She’d trusted her employers—at least at the start.

  But what he couldn’t forgive was that she had kissed him last night while all the time she had known where Tara was being held. That Tara was suffering. That he was fucking suffering.

  The color came back to her face as she ate. She glanced up caught him staring and looked away.

  She was still working things out; he could almost see her mind spinning. She put the plate down and stared at Ryan and she didn’t appear happy.

  …

  It was weird. This was so huge, she should be screaming or breaking down or…she didn’t know what. But something. Maybe she was too tired to react. Or maybe all the whiskey she had drunk was clouding her mind from the realities of what she was hearing. What she was seeing.

  She’d probably have the screaming heebie-jeebies at a later date. Right now, there was something she wanted to know and she was guessing Ryan had all the answers.

  “So tell me about Julie Foster.”

  Ryan shoved his hands in his pockets. “What about her?”

  “Come on, Ryan. Spill.”

  Ryan glanced toward Christian who gave a small, almost imperceptible, nod. So Ryan had permission to tell her. A little flicker of anticipation woke inside her piercing the shroud of numbness encompassing her mind. But also a stab of disappointment. From the start, solving Julie’s murder had been the one thing that kept her going, allowed her to push her other worries to the back of her mind and do her job.

  Now, she was about to learn the answers. What would she have to sustain herself then? She risked another quick glance at Ash. The anger seemed to have left him, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking, his expression impassive.

  But at least Ash wasn’t a vampire. She knew that because of all the times he’d met her in the daytime. So he couldn’t be. He was Christian Roth’s father-in-law that must be his connection to this place. Though he must have been young when he had Tara. She’d thought him in his late thirties, but he had to be older than that.

  “It was a vampire called Jack,” Ryan said, dragging her from her contemplation of Ash. “Piers killed him as well.”

  Piers killed a lot of people. She’d been expecting it. Now she waited for some more, because that was nowhere near enough. Ryan remained silent and she frowned. “That’s it. That’s all I’m getting?”

  “There’s not a lot more to get.”

  She thought for a moment. “Was it the same person who took Jessica?”

  “Yes.”

  “And your friend Roz found her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Roz, the witch.” With a flash of shock, she realized that Roz was in all likelihood a real witch. “So Roz found Jessica and that’s what led you to this Jack character.”

  “Not really.”

  Christian spoke up. “We were already investigating Jack for another reason.”

  “So you didn’t kill him for Julie but for this other thing?” It shouldn’t have mattered, but she wanted him to have died for Julie. She wanted justice for the girl whose life had been taken so callously.

  “Both,” Christian said.

  “Tell me something?” she asked. “I presume you have to feed. Do you kill your victims, Mr. Roth?”

  A smile flickered across his face. “Call me, Christian, Detective. And we don’t need to kill our… food.”

  “That didn’t answer my question.”

  Christian considered her for a moment. Then the humanity bled from his face, and his silver eyes darkened. “Make no mistake, Faith, we are predators, and you are the prey. But I haven’t killed my food in over a hundred years. Does that answer you?”

  She shook her head trying to dispel the image as he relaxed and once again, he was just a spectacularly handsome man. “I suppose.”

  She picked up the rest of her sandwich and nibbled. She was feeling better. The painkillers had kicked in, the food had stopped her feeling so wobbly, and the whisky was a pleasant buzz in her brain. Something else occurred to her.

  “Hey, wait a minute,” she said. “You’re being very free with your information.” Her eyes narrowed. “Let me guess, it doesn’t matter because you can look me in the eye and it will all vanish.”

  Christian didn’t try to deny it. “Yes.”

  “I really don’t like that idea,” she muttered.

  “The alternative is you come to work with us.”

  She’d thought she’d scuppered that idea and they wouldn’t want her after her involvement with Tara’s kidnappers. “So you do employ humans?” Of course they did. They’d employed Ryan and Ash.

  “Not many. But we’re recruiting right now.”

  “Why? What for? What’s changed?”

  “Our role at the Order has always been to police the supernatural world. Occasionally, we do clean up jobs like your mother’s murderer. But our main emphasis has been on keeping the peace between the demons and the fae.”

  It was like she’d been dumped in the middle of a fairy tale. “You’re kidding me right? Demons? And fae—you mean like fairies?”

  “Yes. Until the Accords there were regular wars between the two and there was a danger that mankind would be destroyed. So the Accords were set up, and demons lived in the Abyss—”

  “That’s like hell?”

  Christian grinned. “It’s not so bad.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. I don’t plan to visit anytime soon. Go on…”

  “The fae live in the Faelands. Neither can enter the other’s world. There’s still the occasional war that breaks out, and it takes place here on Earth. We usually manage to put it down and banish the guilty parties to where they belong. We lock down the portals between the worlds until things settle.”

  “So what
’s changed?”

  “The two sides have reached an accord of their own. We’re changing the emphasis of what we do as we’ve come to the conclusion that it can only be a matter of time before our existence becomes known to you humans.”

  “Already happened.”

  “But not the general public. Over the next few years we plan to prepare them.”

  “That’s what Ryan and Ash are doing?”

  “Yes, meeting potential…allies.”

  She supposed it made sense. With increased technology, more and more people would notice the monsters among them. Look at those photos of Christian. How long until someone spotted that he hadn’t aged in…

  “Hey, just how old are you?”

  “Five hundred years, give or take a few.”

  Her mouth dropped open. She couldn’t imagine living that long. He appeared pretty good on it, though. One of the perks of being the undead.

  She covered her mouth with her hand as a huge yawn escaped her. “Sorry,” she muttered. “Stressful day and night. So what happens now? Can I go home?”

  “Not until you decide what you’re going to do. Whether you’ll join with us, or whether you want to forget.”

  She didn’t want to forget. And she didn’t want anyone messing with her mind. It was messed up enough already.

  “So I go back to my cell until I decide?” At least there was a bed, but all the same she wasn’t looking forward to returning to her cell—she needed a shower. She glanced down at herself. Her white shirt was stained dark with dried blood. Yuk.

  “I think we can manage something a little better. There’s guest accommodation upstairs. You can stay there until you decide what you want to do.”

  “I’ll show her,” Ash said, pushing himself up and coming to stand in front of her.

  She didn’t want to go with him. But he obviously had something he wanted to say, and maybe it was best to get it over with.

  He was silent in the elevator. They went up a long way. At least she would be aboveground. Finally, they stopped and Ash led the way out and across a corridor. He opened a door and gestured for her to enter.

  The door led straight into a large, luxurious living space, decorated in creams and blues. She took a deep breath and turned to face Ash. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded, watching her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I was just waiting for you to say you were sorry.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  He could wait as long as he liked. Faith was through with apologizing. “Sorry? Sorry for what exactly?”

  “For not telling me you knew where Tara was last night. For letting me kiss you when all the while you knew who had my daughter. For lying to me.”

  Her blood pounded in her veins. She’d been feeling sort of pathetic and the anger felt good. She stepped up close to him and stabbed him in the chest with her finger—it was rock hard. “Piss off, Ash,” she snarled. “I’m not the only one who fucking lied. I didn’t see you spilling the truth. By the way, Faith, I work for a bunch of vampires. Did you say that? No you fucking didn’t.”

  “I—”

  She jabbed him again. “And another thing. I didn’t even know Tara was your daughter until you were leaving last night. Because you know what, that was one more thing you didn’t tell me. All I knew was she didn’t seem to like you very much.”

  “We were estranged for a long while.” He unfolded his arms and straightened taking a step toward her. “I’m glad you didn’t know.”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “It means that while you came so beautifully in my arms, you weren’t hiding my daughter from me.”

  Did he have to bring that up? She so didn’t want to go there. Time to change the subject. “So is there anything else you want to tell me? Any other little facts that you might want to reveal about yourself?” For a second, she thought he was going to say something, and then he shook his head. Maybe he needed a little help. “Like how come you kill so easily? Have you killed a lot of people, Ash?”

  He shifted. “A few.”

  “Yeah, and I bet they all deserved it.”

  “Some perhaps. Others not so much.”

  She sighed and turned away. “I’m going for a shower. See yourself out.”

  Not waiting for him to answer, she just whirled around and stalked away. Four doors led off the main room, she took a wild guess and headed for the nearest. It actually led into a large bedroom, with windows that stretched across one wall looking out onto panoramic views of the city of London. Definitely an improvement on her previous accommodation.

  Opposite, was a second door and she went through this and found herself in an enormous bathroom, with a corner bath and a huge walk-in shower unit. She’d been going to shower, but now she locked the door behind her—in case Ash hadn’t left—and turned on the taps for the bath.

  Once in the water, she unfastened the bandage around her shoulder. The wound had nearly healed. She knew that wasn’t normal. But what was normal in her world anymore? She was bruised, the marks beginning to show dark against her skin, but none of them hurt, she wondered how strong the painkillers had been.

  An hour later and she felt almost human. She’d avoided thinking about everything, vampires, demons, fae, Ash, keeping her mind blank and letting the hot water soak away her tension.

  Now, she needed clean clothes. No way was she putting her bloodstained shirt back on. Instead, she wrapped herself in one of the fluffy, white robes hanging on the door and stepped back into the bedroom. She half expected Ash to be there, but the room was empty.

  The bed looked so inviting that in the end she forgot about everything else, tossed off the robe, and crawled between the smooth, cool sheets. She was asleep as her head touched the pillow.

  …

  When she woke, the room was in darkness, except for the glow from the lamp beside the bed. Straightaway, she knew she wasn’t alone. She rolled her head to the side and found Ash in the chair by the bed. His hair was damp from the shower and he wore faded jeans and a white shirt, his long legs stretched out in front of him. At first, she thought he was asleep, but then she caught the gleam out of his half-closed eyes.

  “You do know it’s sort of creepy to wake up and find you sitting there watching me?”

  He sat up and stretched, raising his arms above his head. “I brought you some food, but I didn’t want to wake you.”

  Food sounded an excellent idea. Her stomach growled in agreement. “I might forgive you in exchange for food,” she said.

  “Wait there. I’ll bring it to you.”

  She didn’t think anyone had ever brought her food in bed before, except maybe her mother when she’d been little and ill with the measles. Ash switched on the main light as he left, flooding the room with light. He disappeared out the door. Faith considered getting up and putting on the robe but in the end, she just sat up and tucked the sheet around her breasts.

  When Ash reappeared a few minutes later, he was carrying a tray and accompanied by the fragrant scent of sweet-and-sour chicken. He placed the tray on the bedside table and sank back down to his chair. There were also two bottles of beer, and he picked one up and took a swallow.

  Faith breathed in. “That smells so good.”

  “I’d like to say I cooked it myself, but it came from the restaurant on the corner.”

  She picked up the plate and a fork and began to eat. After a minute, she glanced up to find Ash watching her closely as if he didn’t quite understand what was going on.

  Join the club.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  “A few hours until dawn.”

  “Do vampires really have to sleep all day?”

  “Not the stronger ones like Christian. The younger, less powerful vamps will die in sunlight. Christian would get nothing worse than a bad sunburn. But they are night creatures and prefer to rest during daylight.”

  “Is Christian the strongest?”

  “Pier
s is probably stronger. But he’s also older.”

  “Jesus. That must make him…?”

  “Over two thousand years old.”

  She couldn’t even begin to comprehend living that long. Getting through the next day was a challenge. Something occurred to her. “Are there any female vampires?”

  “No. They die during the transition.”

  “Oh.” She went back to eating. If she was going to die, whatever else happened until then, she was going to enjoy life’s pleasures. She cast a sideways glance at Ash—all of them. She didn’t think he was angry anymore, but she’d never met a man who was so good at hiding his feelings. He raised a brow when he caught her studying him.

  “You want some?” She held out a forkful of chicken.

  He shook his head and she ate it. The meal was delicious and she didn’t pause again until she had cleared the plate. Then she sat taking stock. Actually, she felt okay. No headache, which was a relief.

  She picked up her own beer. It was icily cold, and she drank it slowly, savoring each swallow. Finally, she looked back at Ash. “How’s Tara?”

  He shrugged. “Good, I presume. I’ve not seen her since shortly after we got back.”

  “Why doesn’t she like you?”

  She thought he might not answer, but in the end, he shrugged again as if to say—why not? “Until six months ago, I thought Tara had perished with her mother. We were separated. I blamed Christian Roth.”

  “Why?”

  “It doesn’t matter now. But I blamed him, and when I got the opportunity to exact a little revenge, I did so.”

  “How?”

  “He’d taken those I loved. So, I did the same to him. Unfortunately, a friend of Tara’s was taken by mistake.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She died. And not well.”

  “You killed her?” She held her breath. She really wanted the answer to be no, but what did she know of Ash except that he could kill with ease and show no sign of remorse.

  “No. But I was responsible. And Tara blames me—quite rightly.”

  “Yes, I can see how she might blame you for that. Is that why you’re working here? To be close to her?”