Bittersweet Darkness (7 page)

After a last longing glance at her half-eaten doughnut, she picked up her coffee and followed him back to his office.

“Close the door would you?” Pete said.

It must have been something serious. She hoped they weren’t going to take her off active duty. That would really piss her off. Though there was no reason for them to. They didn’t know about her little problem.

He took off his jacket and hung it on the hanger beside his desk. Wouldn’t do to get it crumpled. But he didn’t sit down. Instead, he moved toward the window and stared out for a moment. Running his hand through his short dark hair, which—unlike Ryan’s—fell back perfectly into place.

Shit, he was going to take her off active duty. The bastard.

She clamped her lips together in case she said something she’d regret. Then plonked herself down on the wooden chair in front of his desk and waited for him to speak.

He turned back to face her. “You’ve been reassigned.”

About to take a sip of coffee, now she placed the cup carefully on the desk. “What? Where?” She didn’t want to be reassigned and she had a nasty feeling about this.

“MI13. A group attached to military intelligence. Other than that, I can’t say. They’re based in offices in Westminster, and they want you over there now.”

“And if I don’t want to go.”

“I’m sorry, Faith. I tried to refuse. We don’t want to lose you right now. We’re already one detective down until we replace Ryan.”

Aw, wasn’t that sweet. Not. She’d thought he was going to get personal and say he’d miss her or something. She should have known better. “So what did they say?”

“Actually, nothing. They hung up on me. I thought that was the end of it, but five minutes later I got a call from the big boss. And I mean as high as you can go. As of immediately you are reassigned. So get your things packed up and head over there.”

“For how long?”

“Permanently.”

“What?” She got up and paced a couple of times. “They can’t do this to me. I don’t want to be transferred. They’re total nutcases. I can’t work for them.”

His eyes narrowed. “So you’ve met them before?”

“Yeah, they approached me yesterday. I pretty much told them to piss off.”

He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Diplomatic as ever,” he murmured. “They obviously tried you first and when that didn’t work they went over your head. They must want you badly. Have you any idea why?”

“Yeah, I know why. Damn.”

“And are you going to share?”

“They want me to spy on Ryan.”

His brows drew together. “Why would they want that?”

“Because they’re investigating Christian Roth, who Ryan works for now.”

“Christian Roth? But these guys are not just any ordinary spooks—they go after spooky things. Why would they be interested in Roth?”

Faith eyed him suspiciously. “I thought you didn’t know anything about them?”

“I talked to a few people. I had to call in a couple of favors, and it took some deep digging, but I found out that much. I also got a second call from that big boss who told me—in no uncertain terms—to stop digging.”

“Well, thanks for trying.”

“I told you. I don’t want to lose you—you’re a good detective. But you really have no choice. And it could be interesting.”

“What? Investigating a load of make-believe bullshit. I mean Christian Roth, a vampire? Come on.”

He grinned. “It does seem a little far-fetched. Okay, you’d better get off. Here’s the address you’re to report to.” He handed her a piece of paper. Then in a totally unexpected move, he took her hand. “You know there is one positive thing to come out of this.”

“There is?” She couldn’t think of one, but she was too busy trying to unscramble her brain from the fact that her captain—actually ex-captain now she supposed—was holding her hand. She waited for some reaction. Last night when Ash had taken her hand, it was as though she’d been shot with a jolt of electricity. She’d have expected something equally impressive from the man who she’d fantasized about for the last two years. But nothing.

“You no longer work for me,” he said.

“And that’s good?”

He smiled. “You know I’ve always been attracted to you?”

No, she didn’t. If he had, he’d done a fantastic job of hiding it. “Actually, no.”

“I thought we might see each other.”

“See each other?”

An expression of exasperation flashed across his face. “A date, Detective Connolly.”

“Oh.” She tried to think about it logically and failed. Hadn’t she wanted this for so long? And she might be dying. Didn’t she deserve some fun first? Why did Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous flash across her mind when she thought of fun. Fun and the captain with his immaculate suits didn’t seem to go together. “Why not?” was all she came up with.

He shook his head but released her hand and stepped back. “I’ll give you a call.”

“Great. Now, I suppose, I’d better go.”

“Good luck.”

“You think I’m going to need it?”

“Probably.”

…

Pete’s far from encouraging words flashed across her mind as she followed Father O’Brien through the fourth set of security. What the hell did they have in here?

She thought about asking him but guessed he was probably so far up his own arse that all she would get in response was—it’s classified. Though she had to admit, that all this security was making her curious. She might think they were a bunch of whackos but they obviously believed they had something important to protect.

Finally, when they were deep inside the building and she was guessing, deep underground, they halted in front of a steel door. Father O’Brien tapped lightly and pushed it open without waiting for an answer. The office they entered was big and took minimalism to a new level, as if the occupant had no time for frivolous, unnecessary decoration. With the exception of a large metal desk and four chairs, the room was empty. Well, except for the colonel, who sat behind the desk, hands clasped in front of him. A small smile curved his thin lips but didn’t reach as far as his eyes.

“Welcome, Detective Connolly, or may I call you Faith.”

“Why not,” she muttered. “And what do I call you two?”

“Colonel and Father will do adequately. Now, why don’t you take a seat?”

Faith sat rather gingerly on the edge of the metal chair. The colonel took a small bundle out of the drawer and slid it across the desk to her. She picked up the wallet first. It was identification complete with a photo. She was pleased to see that she was still had the title detective—she’d worked hard for that.

“You’ll have to go to security, get the fingerprint and retinal scans done before you leave the building,” the colonel said. “Otherwise you’re cleared for all but the level-one security areas.”

“What goes on there?” she asked. And why couldn’t she see it?

The colonel gave a small smile. “Once your probationary period is over, you’ll be cleared for that as well.”

The second item was a gun. A Berretta 8000 semiautomatic. She stared at it for a moment and then picked it up and checked the safety was on.

“There is a firing range on level two. You have an appointment there after the scans to make sure you can handle the weapon.”

It wasn’t as big as Ash’s gun had been, but probably Ash had the biggest everything. Why did that thought make her feel a little warm? She squirmed on her seat then glanced up to find the two men watching her.

“So,” she said. “You’ve gone to a lot of bother to get me here. What for?”

“We want you to make contact with your old partner, John Ryan. Find out what he’s doing and see if you can get an in to CR International.”

Now, was the time to tell them about her visit to Ryan last night, but something kept her quiet on the subject. She certainly wasn’t about to tell them of the job Ryan had mentioned or they’d have her in there undercover quicker than she could say “spy.”

She didn’t want to be a spy, and she certainly didn’t want to snoop on her friend. At least not until she had found out more about what was going on. So she nodded. “You said you had evidence that tied Christian Roth in to my murder case.”

“No longer your case, Detective.”

“The hell it isn’t.”

“Here at MI13 we look at the larger picture. We’re not involved in individual murder cases.”

“So what are you involved in?” she asked.

“The survival of mankind,” Father O’Brien answered.

She twisted on her seat so she could see the priest. He stood, hands clasped in front of him, looking pious and godly. Asshole.

“Yeah, right,” she muttered.

“You need to open your heart to God, and you will see the truth.”

“Of course I will.” Not.

“I sense that you’re a skeptic, Faith,” the colonel said, his tone tinged with amusement. “But I assure you, you’ll be a convert once you’ve seen the evidence.”

A glimmer of interest flickered to life inside her. They were talking her language now. Good, hard evidence was what she believed in. But she didn’t believe they would have any strong enough to convince her that she was wrong and the monsters really existed. All the same, she might find something useful to help her case, because no way was it
not
her case. She would solve Julie’s murder even if she had to work on it in her own time.

“Well then,” she said. “Take me to your evidence.”

Chapter Six

Ash called a meeting in Ryan’s office the evening after he met Faith. Their whole integration plan was based on the concept that the Order was a big, dark secret. Yet now it seemed as though there was a government organization actively studying them. And they had a file on Christian and God knows who else.

Of course, Christian had been outside the Order for many years. He’d left after the last demon wars—maybe a guilty conscience. He’d been phenomenally successful as a businessman, maybe too successful, which was perhaps what had brought him to the attention of the authorities. Ash’s revenge had brought Christian back to the Order, searching for answers and for a way to protect Tara.

The sun was just setting outside as Ash lounged back on the sofa, his booted feet resting on the coffee table while they waited for the vamps to wake up. He took a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle.

“Didn’t someone say alcohol is supposed to do weird things to demons?” Ryan asked, his glance wary.

“Yeah. Turns us all demonic.” He grinned. “Some of us, anyway. The weaker ones can’t take it and even the stronger ones can go a little weirded out if they’re not used to it.” He took another swig. “Lucky for you, I’m used to it.”

He held out the bottle and Ryan sighed.

“Why the hell not?” He pulled two glasses from his desk and put them on the table next to Ash’s boots.

Ash poured a good measure into both and watched, amused as Ryan perched on the edge of the desk and sipped.

Ryan appeared exactly what he was: a cop. Well an ex-cop now but Ash was guessing they never really lost the look. He wore gray slacks and a black sweater, a beat-up leather jacket over the top.

“So how are the arrangements going?” Ash asked. “Any important meetings to go to yet?”

“First one is the day after tomorrow—with a guy from the ministry of defense.” He cast a glance at Asmodai and frowned. “You are going to wear something different, aren’t you?”

“Different?” Ash peered down at himself, in the usual black leathers and T-shirt he wore in his human manifestation.

“I suggest a suit, because I’m not sure you’ll get passed security like that.”

“A suit?”

“Yeah and maybe a haircut.”

He must have appeared shocked at the idea because Ryan grinned. “It’s not like that guy in the bible where you lose your powers or something if you have it cut?”

“No.”

“Well lose the ponytail, then. It’s…girlie.”

Girlie?

“I’ll think about it. And are you going to get a suit and a haircut?”

“Me? Why?” He ran a hand through his already mussed hair so it stood on end. Ash quirked a brow.

“I’ll think about it.” Ryan gulped down his whisky and poured another. “The waiting is fucking killing me. I want something to happen.”

“Be wary of saying that. Things will happen soon enough.”

“You think they’re going to come after Roz? The”—Ryan paused as though the word might choke him—“angels.”

“I’m sure they are.”

Ryan pressed his fingers to his forehead. “Christ. I never thought the time would come when I would be on the opposite side to the angels.”

“You believed in them? Before all this, I mean.” Ash waved a hand encompassing the area.

“A few years ago, I would have said no. But then I met Roz.”

“Ah, Roz,” he murmured reminiscently. “Enough to make anyone believe in angels. Did you and she ever…?”

“No. How about the two of you? Were you close?”

Five hundred years ago, Ash had saved Roz from being burned at the stake by a mob of rampaging villagers. In exchange, she’d been indebted to him until she’d completed thirteen tasks. He’d taken her that night amid the dying screams of her oppressors. She’d been seventeen, a virgin, and sweet as sin.

But he wasn’t about to share that with Ryan.

Christian and Tara arrived at that moment saving him from answering. Piers and Roz were close behind. From the crimson glow in his eyes, Piers had fed recently. That and the puncture marks in Roz’s neck.

“So,” Piers said. “Is someone going to tell me what this is about? I had plans for this evening and you’ve fucked them up.”

Piers had taken over the leadership of the Order when Christian had left. Most had considered him a strange choice. Though probably the most powerful vampire in existence—Piers was over two thousand years old and vamps gained strength with age—he’d never been known for his diplomatic qualities. And keeping peace between the races was one of the main functions of the Order. But he’d done well and it was probably only his intervention that had saved the world from being under Andarta’s less than tender control. Andarta had been a mad bitch, but she’d loved Piers. There was no accounting for taste.

“So sorry,” Ash said not attempting to hide his sarcasm. “But as head of the Order you might be interested in this.”