The Order Boxed Set (86 page)

She backed away and came up against the edge of the black leather sofa. Her knees gave way and she sank down. Christian sat beside her, grasped her shoulders, and turned her so she faced him.

“Look at me, Faith.”

She bit down on her lip but raised her gaze to his. He had beautiful eyes, pale silver, and this close she could see the circle of black around his irises. Mesmerizing eyes, deep, as though she could sink into them.

“Go back,” he murmured. “Go back to the night your mother was murdered.”

Part of her brain was screaming in terror, but the part in charge felt strangely calm and disassociated from that fear. And she allowed her thoughts to drift back.

“Tell me what you remember?” Christian said.

She swallowed, then cleared her throat. “Everything had gone quiet. I’d heard them talking, but now there was nothing. I don’t know why, but I needed to check that my mother was all right. She never had men in the house. Now one was in her bedroom.” She closed her eyes pictured the door. “I stood outside. The door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it.” Her eyes flew open; she didn’t want to see that image, but it flashed in her mind. “She was on the bed, naked. I’d never seen my mother naked before. She lay with her head hanging over the edge of the mattress. At first, I thought she had a scarf around her neck. A red scarf, but I saw it was wounds, teeth marks and there were more at her wrist and between her thighs.” Nausea roiled in her stomach. “I stepped closer. I didn’t know she was dead. I wanted to help her. Then I sensed something behind me. Something bad.”

“Faith? What next?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I remember nothing.”

His silver eyes bored into her skull. “You do remember, Faith. “Tell me what you remember.”

Her mind was splintering. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ryan take a step toward her, but Ash stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“I don’t want to,” she whispered, but the wall was shattering.

Chapter Eighteen

Part of him wanted to tell Christian to stop, to leave her alone. But Ash knew she had to do this. It had become so clear while they had watched her talk to Ryan down in the cell that she was under some sort of compulsion. Now he understood why her disbelief in anything supernatural had seemed so inflexible.

If he ever found the vamp who’d done this to her, he’d rip his fucking head off.

“Go on, Faith,” Christian said. “What happened next?”

A pulse fluttered in her throat and her hands clenched into tight fists on her lap. Her eyes were open now, haunted.

“I turned around. And I saw him. His face was a crimson mask of blood. My mother’s blood. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t move. ‘Just a little sip,’ he said to me. And he bit me. It didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt so good. Afterward, he told me that I would forget and that vampires don’t exist. None of the monsters existed.”

“But they do exist, don’t they, Faith,” Christian murmured. “You know that now?”

She nodded slowly, reached out a hand, and lightly touched his face. “Show me.”

Christian snarled revealing the tip of one fang. She touched it briefly and let her hand drop to her side.

“Vampires exist. You’re a vampire.” She sounded forlorn, but then the world, which she’d been so certain of, was crumbling around her.

Ash released his hold on Ryan. The fight had gone out of him anyway. He rummaged in desk and found the bottle of whisky and glasses Piers always kept in there. He poured a measure, took it Faith, and wrapped her fingers around the glass.

Christian rose to his feet making room for Ash. He sank down beside her.

“Drink it, Faith.”

She raised the glass to her lips almost automatically and took a large gulp of whiskey, then a second. She peered at him over the rim. “At least I know
you’re
not a vampire.”

Ryan snorted and Ash shot him a sharp glance. He would tell Faith the truth about what he was at some point, but she’d had enough shocks for one day.

He was quite aware he was indulging in a little self-delusion here. Some part of him knew that if she discovered what he was, it would be over between them. And he wasn’t ready for that. Hell “it” hadn’t even started yet.

There could be nothing long term between them anyway, at least not in the way he figured long term. Faith was mortal. She would die. He would not allow himself to get in too deeply with her.

He’d loved and lost once, and he would not go through that again.

He stopped short and stared at the woman in front of him, horror filling his mind. No way was he falling in love with her. Even thinking the word while in the same room with Faith was dangerous.

Maybe he should tell her what he was now, show his real self, and she’d no doubt tell him to piss off and the danger would be over.

But he couldn’t do it. “No, I’m definitely not a vampire.”

“Can all vampires do that?” she asked. “The mind thing?”

Ash shrugged. “Some are better than others, but to a certain extent—yes.”

She was silent for a minute. “Is that how they stay secret? Of course it is. Is that what he’ll do to me? If you let me leave?”

“Probably.”

“Hey, don’t pull your punches, Ash. Tell it like it is.”

“Do you prefer lies?”

“Actually, I’m still trying to decide that one.”

As he watched her, she glanced across to where Christian was punching something into the computer and her hand went to her throat, her finger stroking down the vein. She’d said it felt good. Was she remembering? She better not get a hankering for vampires. If she wanted biting, then Ash would do it.

Christian straightened. “Faith?”

“Yes?”

“I’d like you to look at something.”

She rose to her feet and wobbled slightly, probably a combination of shock, painkillers, and whiskey. Ash got up, gripped her arm, and led her the few steps to the desk.

“Do you recognize him?” Christian asked.

Ash studied the screen. It showed a blond man, almost bland in appearance with pale blue eyes and thin lips.

“It’s him,” Faith whispered. “Who is he?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Christian replied. “He’s dead.”

“Dead? I thought you couldn’t die.”

“We can be killed. Just not easily.”

“Who killed him?”

“Piers.”

“But why?”

“Well, partly because he killed your mother.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Sit down, and I’ll explain a little of what we are.”

She took a step, turned back, grabbed the whiskey bottle from the desk, and took it with her. After pouring herself half a glass, she sat in the corner clutching it in her hand. Christian perched on the edge of the desk. Ash took the seat opposite her so he could watch her face.

“So what are you?” she said.

“This place is known as the Order of the Shadow Accords and one of the things we do here is police the supernatural world. There aren’t many rules, but we make sure they’re strictly adhered to. One of those rules is don’t bring attention to ourselves.”

“And he did that?”

“Yes. Your mother wasn’t the only human he murdered and left to be found. He was warned, he killed again, and so he was destroyed.”

“By Piers Lamont.”

“Yes, he heads up the Order.”

“He’s a vampire.”

“Yes.”

“Shit.”

Ash watched as she took another gulp of whiskey. She was going to be so drunk. He wasn’t sure that was a good thing or a bad thing. She glanced at the glass and frowned. “I don’t suppose there’s anything to eat around here. I haven’t eaten since…” She glanced at Ash. “Since last night.”

“I’ll go find you something,” Ryan said and strode out of the room. Faith turned her attention back to Christian.

“Did you know him? The man who murdered my mother?”

“His name was Pieter. He worked here for a while but he was an asshole. I sacked him. I should have killed him back then.”

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.”