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old bastard’s death.
    He needed to escape—lose himself in some Aerosmith or AC/DC. For a demon, friendship with a human was strictly forbidden. So he and Augustus had never been friends. In the privacy of his own mind, he admitted that they’d not been bitter enemies toward the end of his time with the old man. LaPierre had been the real problem.
    And he couldn’t let Mari spend too much time with LaPierre. It was just too dangerous for her. He’d told Augustus he would do that much for his daughter. At the time, they’d had a rousing argument about Ros’ refusal to guard the daughter of his captor. Why he should care now, he had no clue. She’d as much as told him she wouldn’t help him gain release, so why should he care about her tender human feelings? It hadn’t helped him with her father.
    “Will you be seeing LaPierre again?” He bit the words out—angry at himself, at her, at the whole human-damn situation.
    She paused as she gathered her hair up in a ponytail then let it fall. He made a mental note to play poker with her. She gave herself away every time. “No, I don’t think so. I honestly believe he was trying to force me into giving him not only this house, but everything in it. And I can’t tell if he is working magick on me.”
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    “Yet.” At her startled look, he nodded. “You can’t tell yet but you will. Once you have the keys, your power will be fully unlocked. And unless I miss my guess, you will be more powerful than the old bastard ever hoped to be.”
    “Ros, do you really think so?” Wistfulness colored the question.
    “Of course I do. We need to find those keys. Your father’s considerable power resides in this house, every object here has some meaning in his magick. And of course LaPierre wants this house and everything in it, including you and me! He holds me personally responsible for the death of his parents even though I had nothing to do with that. He holds your father responsible for his lack of power, since he felt your father should have gifted him with more. LaPierre is a worthless, lazy bastard not worth a moment of your time or concern!” Ros had advanced on Mari until they stood toe-to-toe, staring straight into her expressive brown eyes, daring her to deny anything he said. She simply stared back, gripping the chain around her neck tightly.
    A man could drown in her eyes. Her breasts rose and fell as she breathed. He locked his eyes on those curves in an attempt to get away from her steady look. That helped nothing. He remembered how she felt beneath his hands. Her body quivering beneath his palms. An unfamiliar aching need rose within him, tinged with anger at her for putting herself in danger. At the thought of losing her, his stomach clenched. When he realized it was over her being harmed and not him being enslaved by LaPierre, he knew he had to create some distance.
    Desperate he focused on her clenched fist where she held something. He caught the glimmer of one very familiar red stone. Letting his anger bleed out, Ros sighed. The lust didn’t fade as he put his hands on Mari’s shoulders. “You’ve already found one.”
    “What?”
    Her hand warmed beneath his as though their skin melded into one. He shook his head. This was not the time to give in to the urgent desire he felt for this human.
    “Mari, his tiger’s eye ring. That has to be the first key.” Getting excited now, Ros covered Mari’s hand with his. Surely he wasn’t imagining that little jolt? But her 52

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    expression never changed. Sliding her hand out from under his, she pulled the chain over her head then opened her hand. The silver ring he had seen her father wear on a daily basis rested on her palm. Ros knew better than to touch it without her permission.
    He simply stared at the ring then up at the woman holding it.
    “Tell me what happened at dinner tonight. Did LaPierre try to make you do something you didn’t want to do? Did he try to force you