Free Bittersweet Magic by Nina Croft Page B

Y EAH—YOU OKAY FOR TONIGHT?
    C HRISTIAN: I ’LL MEET YOU OVER THERE.
    [ A MINUTE’S SILENCE.]
    C HRISTIAN: S O HOW WAS THE NUN?
    P IERS: D ELECTABLE. S WEET AS SIN. T HERE’S FAE BLOOD IN THERE AND A LOT OF IT.
    C HRISTIAN: I S SHE OKAY?
    P IERS: W HAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR—SOME SORT OF MONSTER? S HE WAS FINE, WALKED OUT ON HER OWN TWO FEET. A ND SHE WON’T REMEMBER A THING.
    C HRISTIAN: G OOD.
    Nothing further came up on the screen, and Roz sat back in the chair and stared at the words. Fae blood? What did that mean? That she was some sort of fairy? No way! Asmodai had never mentioned the fae. But he was a secretive bastard, and she was on a need to know basis. Obviously, the demon hadn’t considered she needed to know the fact that she had fae blood. Or even that the fae existed.
    She’d never known what she was. She had vague recollections of her father; he’d been around on and off up until she was about six years old. Then he had disappeared from their lives without trace. Her mother wasn’t the same after that, a shadow of the happy woman she’d been. She’d always sworn that he would never voluntarily leave them, and Roz had presumed he must be dead. He certainly hadn’t been around when the villagers had come for them.
    Witch.
    The word echoed through the years. Her mother had been a healer. The people had come to her for help and she had saved more than one wretched life. Only to be repaid with her death. Roz had inherited her mother’s healing skills and more, but what might she have inherited from her unknown father?
    She sighed and sat back as Maria put a mug of coffee on the table beside her, and carried her own to the sofa.
    “Okay,” Roz said, “we require a few ground rules, if you’re going to stay here.”
    “I’m good at rules.”
    “No habits—I find them depressing. No praying where I can see or hear—it upsets my digestion. Oh, and don’t contact anyone and tell them where you are. And no boys in your room,” she couldn’t resist adding.
    She got a faint smile. Maria was recovering. “What am I to wear?” She hitched up the gray sweats. “Your clothes are too big.”
    Bitch. Just because she was skinny, no need to rub it in. “Order some stuff off the internet—it will be here by tomorrow.”
    “Really?” She pursed her lips. “I have no money.”
    “Well luckily, I have plenty.”
    “Who are you?”
    Well that one was easy to answer. “I have no fucking clue.”
    Maria winced at the swear word. “Well whoever you are—you’re a good person.”
    No she wasn’t. But maybe she wasn’t all bad either.
    She checked occasionally, but there was nothing from the bug through the afternoon and early evening. Ryan called, said they were investigating a few leads and he would let her know if they led to anything. Otherwise, the day had been pleasantly uneventful. She’d set Maria up on the desktop computer, internet shopping, and watched as she flicked through the sites as if starving. Then she’d settled on the sofa with a glass of scotch and a book, but ended up dozing on and off.
    It wasn’t until after eleven that there was any further activity from the bug. Roz checked on her houseguest; Maria was curled up in the corner of the sofa, her head resting in one hand, her eyes closed. She still looked pale, with dark shadows under her eyes, but she had held up better than Roz would have believed. Obviously, the nun was made of stern stuff.
    Roz shifted on her seat, so Maria wouldn’t see the screen should she awaken, and quickly read the information. It seemed as though Christian and Piers were in the office alone.
    C HRISTIAN: S O YOU’VE FOUND HIM?
    P IERS: I T WASN’T DIFFICULT— I TOLD YOU—HE WANTED ME TO FIND HIM. I ’VE ARRANGED TO MEET HIM AT M ASON’S, AN ABANDONED WAREHOUSE ON THE DOCKS, TONIGHT.
    C HRISTIAN: Y OU’D STILL LIKE ME ALONG?
    P IERS: H ELL YEAH. Y OU CAN BE THE VOICE OF REASON.
    C HRISTIAN: T HE TWO OF YOU HAVE HISTORY?
    P IERS: Y OU COULD