Maggie forced herself to look again at the demon’s missing arm, the wound in his side. How much power did a few drops have that the demon had gone through this?
“Do you know where it is, Kate?”
“Yes.” She flipped over a blood-spattered cushion on a sofa and sat. “And I’ll tell you where you can find it once we’ve reached San Francisco. You can hand it over to Uncle Colin, and he can give it over to the Guardians. If I don’t, I suppose I’ll soon be repeating this experience.”
Geoff’s face was grim. “And someone else will be forced into a demon’s service.”
It could have been me, Maggie thought. She sank into a shredded armchair and brought her legs up.
Langan would’ve known when he’d given James the assignment to kill Thomas Stafford that it couldn’t be completed. It might have even been plotted by both demons, so that they would have-if they needed one-a hold over a human who could carry out assassinations, who didn’t have to follow the Rules. It wouldn’t have been the first time Stafford had used a human to kill for him.
And knowing her psychological profile, they’d probably even predicted that she’d fake James’s death. But even if her resignation had surprised Langan, she had no doubt that her placement in Stafford ’s house had been his idea. He’d probably been the one to give Stafford that picture of her and James.
If the Guardians hadn’t slain Stafford, what might have happened? Would she, too, have found herself trapped in a bargain-forced to kidnap or kill to save her soul?
She laid her cheek against her knees and closed her eyes. But it hadn’t happened. Karma, luck, or maybe something else… She had escaped that fate, and ended up with Ames-Beaumont instead.
And Geoff.
Opening her eyes, she looked up and met his. They were slightly unfocused; they were never like that when he was looking through her. Her gaze moved to Katherine. His sister’s stare was as intense as Geoff’s could be.
She heard him say quietly, “Just a few more seconds, Kate.”
How wonderful to have family, Maggie thought.
Especially this one.
Chapter Nine
They made it simple for James.They sat him on the sofa and explained what would happen if he ever spoke a word about Ames-Beaumont’s family, or about what Geoff and Katherine could do.
They waited on the veranda while Sir Pup killed the demon in front of him.
When the hellhound was finished, Maggie cut through James’s handcuffs and let him go.
Maggie awoke in a familiar bed that wasn’t hers, with the most powerful vampire in the world glowering down at her.
She sat up, clutching royal blue satin to her chest. A chest that was, thank God, covered by the tank she wore beneath her uniform.
“Sir,” she said, and in the course of the word, tried desperately to remember how she’d ended up sleeping in his mansion.
She hadn’t fallen asleep on the plane. She did remember disembarking, and that her employer and Savi had met them at the airport. She’d said “Sir.” He’d said, “Good God, Winters. You’re bloody exhausted.”
That was the last she could recall. Which probably meant that Ames-Beaumont had given her a psychic shove and put her to sleep.
He sat on the edge of the bed, avoiding the sunlight streaming in through the eastern windows. When she’d first met him, she would have sworn the sun rose every morning purely out of hope it might shine on his face. There was beautiful, and then there was Colin Ames-Beaumont. He… glowed. Not physically, she knew, but psychically. The first weeks of her employment had been filled with humiliating leaps of her heart every time he’d entered the room she was in. Then she’d adjusted, the psychic effect had worn off, and she’d finally been able to look at him without catching her breath.
His deep frown could still affect her heart rate, though. She waited, holding her breath.
“I am disturbed, Winters.” His gaze, when it met hers, was slightly accusing. “I believe my nephew plans to steal you away from me.”
Her fingers clutched the sheet more tightly. God, she wished whoever had put her to bed had left her uniform on. “I have no intention of giving up my position here, sir.”
He tilted his head, and the sun hit the wild disarray of his hair, lighting the burnished gold. Mirrors were of no use to him, and Maggie knew he didn’t possess a single comb. “I can hear them plotting downstairs. My own family. She tells him where the dragon blood is, and he says he will persuade me to allow you to accompany him while he retrieves it.”
Maggie’s expression was a perfect blank. “It would be prudent, sir, for someone to accompany him-and to protect him.”
His gaze narrowed. “He also intends to spend a good fortnight flying about the world, so that if he were to be followed by some unknown party, they would lose track of him.”
“That also seems a well-conceived plan, sir.”
“A bloody expensive one, if you ask me. And what will I do, Winters? You cannot serve me if you are family.”
“I do not serve you, Mr. Ames-Beaumont. I am employed by you. I do not see any reason for that relationship to alter, whatever my relationship with Mr. Blake may become.”
He stood and slid his hands into the pockets of his tailored trousers. A pleased expression lit his features. “If you do become family, Winters-I suppose that means I will be able to pay you less?”
“I think, sir, you would have to pay me more.”
The vampire heaved a melodramatic sigh and turned toward the sitting room. “Do not break his heart, Winters, or we will have words.”
Maggie began to breathe again. She must have been breathing his entire visit-she only just now realized she was able to.
“And if he breaks mine, sir?”
He looked back and flashed a grin that seemed to be all fangs. “I would have to thrash him quite soundly. I have many nephews, but there is only one Winters.”
She was still clutching the sheet to her chest when Geoff came through the sitting room doors.
And she couldn’t allow this to happen again. Geoff in her bedroom? Yes. In her employer’s house? In his bed?
Far too awkward.
Geoff stopped at the foot of the bed. His hair was still damp from a shower, his jeans and T-shirt new. His gaze locked with hers.
And he couldn’t see her at all.
Her heart slipped into a heavy, steady beat.
“Uncle Colin said he spoke with you.”
“He did.” She threw back the covers and held his gaze as she walked on her knees to the end of the mattress. “And apparently, we will be spending the next two weeks in each other’s company.”
He reached out, his fingers brushing the sides of her waist. Her skin tightened and prickled with delicious sensation. “I’ll be happy with a fortnight in your garden, Maggie.”
She touched his jaw. “I wouldn’t be.”
“And I lied.” His laugh rumbled over her fingers. “I wouldn’t be, either. Ah, Maggie. I’m pushing you into this too fast.”
“What makes you think I can be pushed anywhere I don’t want to go?”
“No, I don’t suppose you could be.” He drew a deep breath. “Look, I ought to tell you-I crossed lines, Maggie. I had reason to go over your files, but I went over them again and again, and I went deeper than I should have. I was desperate to know you. If James hadn’t taken Katherine, if we’d met later, after I’d moved here, I’d have pushed you then. And if you’d said no, I’d likely have followed you everywhere in hope that someone would look at you, so that I could, too.”