Carnal Magic: The Wraith Accords, Book 1 (10 page)

“I’m going to tell Jeimtin that I want nothing but plain rice next.”

“Rice?” He frowned in mock confusion. He’d had rice before—huge bags of it had been a gift from the Vampire one month. He didn’t like it, but he knew what it was.

Isabel took a sip of wine and rolled her eyes.

He ate another cookie, making obnoxiously loud noises of enjoyment. Isabel had admitted that she’d enjoyed sweets as a human. Perhaps it was cruel of him to tease her when she’d said that though she could eat cookies if she wanted they didn’t taste as good as she remembered, but he could tell she didn’t really take offense. Strange, after only a few days he felt like he’d known her for years, felt comfortable teasing her.

She leaned back in her chair. “If you want to keep having the lovely food my friends think I’m eating…I’m going to need something from you.”

“And what is that?”

A smile worked its way across her face—that smile told him that what she wanted was going to involve being naked. His body reacted instantly—his cock throbbing in his pants.

Aed was planning exactly what he was going to do to her when his senses tingled.

Leaping to his feet, he held up his hand. Isabel instantly went silent. Unbuckling his sword belt, Aed flicked his finger. His armor disappeared from the floor only to reappear on his body.

Buckling his belt back on over his armor, Aed went to the door, which they’d left open so he would hear a messenger approach, positioning himself on the threshold.

There were footsteps approaching—five people at least. The sky was orange fading to blue, the courtyard now full of shadows. The sun had set.

Aed positioned himself beside the doorway. He hoped it was merely people passing by and that they wouldn’t come near this room, but given where they were in the castle, that wasn’t likely, unless for some reason Tara had reformed itself again.

When the group appeared at the mouth of the corridor, moving steadily toward where he stood, Aed knew this wasn’t a coincidence. Something was wrong—very wrong.

Ch
apter Nine

Is
abel slid into the bathroom, head cocked to the side as she listened for whatever had made Aed go to the door. Unzipping the small pouch in the skirt of her dress, she took out eyeliner and lipstick before pulling the pins free of the bun she’d curled her hair into after showering. She finger-combed it, the locks now falling in gentle waves. She fixed her sleeves and adjusted the lace overlay of her dress, then quickly applied make-up.

It wasn’t her full routine, but it was good enough. Since this trip was only meant to be a few days long and she’d decided any kind of luggage would be a hindrance, she’d bought only the essentials with her.

She reminded herself that she was Isabel Santiago—Sage of the Bucharest Cabal. A powerful, clever vampire.

Too bad inside she still felt soft and warm—the result of hours of pleasure at Aed’s hands and a walk she’d taken earlier this morning while he slept. When he was awake he didn’t want her out of his sight. She doubted he wanted her wandering around Tara by herself when he was asleep, but she’d begun to fall in love with the mysterious beauty of this place. She never ventured far, and made sure to stay in main corridors. This morning she’d found a courtyard full of rose bushes. She’d seen electric-blue flowers, glittering blossoms with white petals surrounding blood-red centers and the most delicate lavender-colored florets she could imagine. The scent had been intoxicating, and she’d sat on the mossy ground and simply breathed deep.

It had been a stupid risk, and not the first time she’d done it, but once she’d had a taste she hadn’t been able to stop herself from venturing farther and farther from the safety of Aed’s presence. She was a naturally curious person, and it was impossible to be surrounded by such wonder without wanting to see it.

If she’d been seen…

If she’d been seen, there shouldn’t have been an issue. She wasn’t a prisoner here—there was no reason she shouldn’t take a walk. It might shock the Tuatha de Danaan that she could move about in the day, but that might be a good thing—it would help them realize that the Vampire had many skills and powers they knew nothing about.

Isabel swept out of the bathroom. She could see Aed’s shoulder through the open door. It was strange how he hadn’t needed to say anything—she’d simply understood from his body language that there was something, someone, approaching.

“Lord Fionnin.” There was a hard edge to Aed’s words.

Isabel positioned herself a few feet from the door, off to the side so she could hear what was happening in the corridor but wouldn’t be immediately visible to anyone peering in through the open door.

“Aed. Is it here?”

“My lord?”

“The vampire.” The stranger’s tone dripped with disgust.

Isabel’s fangs lengthened, but she willed them back. She would not let being called “it” goad her to a reaction.

“Lady Isabel is within. She is not expecting visitors.”

“I am not a visitor. I’ve come to see justice served.”

“Justice, Lord Fionnin?”

“Let me see it.”

A shadow passed across the door, but Aed moved, filling the portal with his bulk. “It is my duty to protect Lady Isabel.”

“No, your duty is to protect us
from
Lady Isabel. A duty in which you have failed.”

“And how have I failed the Tuatha de Danaan?”

“The vampire has killed one of my servants.”

Isabel went completely still. She’d been waiting for something like this to happen. With each hour that passed without word from the High King, she’d known something foul was at work. It seemed there would be no more games—the Tuatha de Danaan
’s
secret agenda was coming to light.

Isabel smoothed her skirt and blanked her expression. Laying a hand on Aed’s shoulder, she pushed lightly. He moved to the side, allowing her to step out into the corridor.

A tall man with a lined face and silver hair sniffed when he caught sight of her. He wore beautiful, pale gray robes trimmed in silver thread, his body slim and straight despite his age. He was by far the oldest person Isabel had seen in Tara.

Isabel examined him from head to toe, taking her time. When she reached his face, his expression had switched from disdain to anger, and if she hadn’t been examining him so closely she might not have seen the way the corners of his eyes tightened or his jaw clenched.

“Might I have the pleasure of knowing who my accuser is?” Isabel smiled as she spoke, making her voice as soft and sweet as she could.

“I am Lord Fionnin, leader of the House of Munster, oldest and most trusted advisor of the High King.”

Isabel curtseyed. “Lord Fionnin. It is my deepest pleasure to meet you. I am Isabel Santiago, Sage of the Bucharest Cabal and confidant of Duke Drakul of the Vampire.”

“I know your name and titles. Just as I know you’ve betrayed my hospitality.”

“Your hospitality?” Interesting that he would phrase it that way.

“The High King’s hospitality.” Fionnin waved his hand. “Take her.”

The four men at Fionnin’s back, each of whom wore a fine gray tunic under their light armor, came forward.

Aed stepped in front of Isabel, his fingers slowly curling around the handle of his sword.

“I cannot allow this, Lord Fionnin. Lady Isabel is a guest here, and to treat her poorly risks our treaty with the Vampire.”

“We do not need the Vampire. Her actions prove that they are using us and that their very presence in Fae is a threat.”

“What crime am I accused of?” Isabel stepped around Aed, putting herself within arm’s reach of the Munster soldiers. It was a risky move, but she could not appear weak.

“You murdered one of my servants.”

“And why do you think it was me?”

“There are fang marks in her neck.” Fionnin sneered. “Like an animal, you drank her blood. Disgusting.”

“I’m sorry for your servant, but I did not kill her.”

“Who else would do this thing? Perhaps you thought we would not care, but no one touches what is mine.”

“Your grief over the loss of life is compelling.” Isabel couldn’t help jabbing at the arrogant man, who clearly saw the servant’s death as tragic because of theft of property. It was an attitude she hadn’t been confronted with in many years. Having once been property herself, it was not one she appreciated.

“You make light of what you’ve done.”

“No, because I have done nothing. I am the one who is being insulted and threatened by this clumsy attempt to discredit me.”

“Do you accuse me of something?” The way he spoke put Isabel on alert. He was completely confident in his position and power.

“I have come to believe someone in Tara wishes to see the Wraith Accords fail, and I have yet to understand why.”

For a moment Fionnin looked disconcerted. The expression was fleeting, but it was enough to tell Isabel that he had not been the one to orchestrate the failed assassination attempt. That meant this was about something else. Or maybe Fionnin was, like Aed, a pawn of another player.

What was it Cat Sith had said? Vampires were pawns, humans were fodder.

“If there has been a murder inside Tara, then the Fianna must be told.” Aed released his sword. “The royal family must be protected.”

“Protected from
her
.” Fionnin threw out his hand, one long, bony finger pointed at Isabel.

“Where is this dead servant?” Isabel asked.

“Why do you care?”

“I did not kill her, but if I see the body I might be able to understand how she died, and who did it.”

“The thief will explain how she didn’t commit the crime? Convenient.”

“I am done with this conversation.” Isabel dropped any pretense of politeness. “Show me the body, bring your Fenians and bring the High King. I will not let a petty man destroy something my Duke worked so hard to create.”

Fionnin’s reply was cut short by the sound of running footsteps. Prince Oisin pounded down the corridor, his gold hair bright in the shadows. He was wearing a white button-down shirt and khaki slacks. Isabel blinked, thrown off by the sight of someone wearing such modern-looking clothes.

“Prince Oisin.” Aed bowed.

“Is it true?” The prince’s chest was heaving.

Fionnin looked pleased. “It is. One of my servants has been killed by the vampire.”

Oisin focused on Isabel, and hate filled his gaze. Isabel nearly took a step back, so palpable was the prince’s rage. “Where?” he demanded.

“Your Highness, such a sight is not—”

“Where?” Oisin growled the question.

Fionnin stiffened. “One of my men will take you to the body.”

“I will go too.” Isabel gathered her courage and stepped forward. “Prince Oisin, I did not kill anyone. If I can see the body, I can prove it to you.”

Oisin barely reacted. “Fine. Where?”

Fionnin tried one last time to dissuade the prince, but in the next moment Oisin had one of the soldiers by the neck. “Take me there.”

“Prince Oisin, I cannot allow you to risk yourself. The Fianna must be notified.” Aed was looking between Isabel, Oisin and Fionnin as if he didn’t know who he needed to deal with first.

“I don’t need a bodyguard, Aed. I need to know if…” The prince trailed off.

Aed examined him, then nodded once. “Very well, Your Highness.”

Isabel made a mental note to ask Aed what was going on. It seemed that Oisin’s arrival was not part of Fionnin’s plan.

One of the Munster guards led the way. They passed through three different courtyards and Isabel took careful note of where they were going, but once they entered corridors she hadn’t seen before she realized it was hopeless.

The tap of quick footsteps heralded the arrival of a new player. Prince Cairbe appeared from around the corner up ahead. “Oisin, stop.”

Oisin shoved the lead guard, motioning for him to continue while Cairbe jogged up beside them. “What, brother?”

The crown prince was disheveled—hair mussed, bare chest marked by long parallel scratches. Isabel raised a brow—clearly word of what was happening had made its way to the oldest prince’s ear and was alarming enough that Cairbe had interrupted sex in order to find them.

“Join us or leave, Cairbe.” Oisin once more jabbed the solider who’d been leading the way. “Keep going.”

“Prince Cairbe.” Lord Fionnin inclined his head.

“What’s happened, Fionnin?”

“The vampire killed one of my servants.”

Cairbe lowered his voice, but Isabel was able to make out his words to the older man. “Such an accusation carries great weight. I would hate to see a female’s pride destroy our people’s future.”

Isabel looked at Aed, who was walking at her side. He looked grim.

There was a beat of silence before Fionnin replied. “Yes, Your Highness, the vampire’s pride is not worth the honor of the
Tuatha de Danaan.”

Isabel quickened her pace, hoping to hear more of their conversation, but Cairbe fell back to walk beside her. Isabel examined his bare chest and half-fastened pants. He wasn’t wearing shoes. The state of undress, plus the smell of sex that clung to his skin, amplified the effect of whatever it was that made her desire him.

Isabel examined his well-muscled chest. “It seems you were interrupted, Your Highness.”

“I was.”

“And your companion is…?”

“Not going anywhere.” Cairbe grinned rakishly.

Isabel smiled, biting her lower lip gently. Cairbe’s attention dropped to her lips, then lower to her cleavage. She crooked her finger and Cairbe leaned closer. “If she’s that easily bound, then she’s hardly a challenge, is she?”

“No woman can escape me, unless I allow it. Not that they want to.” Cairbe’s eyes gleamed and Isabel felt herself sway into him, like filings pulled to a magnet.

Oh yes, the prince was good.

But so was she.

Isabel laid a single finger against Cairbe’s bare abdomen and trailed it down to the partially open fly of his pants as they walked. His muscles rippled. “No chain you could make would bind me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of binding you…with chain alone.”

Isabel rose up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “And what would you like me to use when I bind you to my bed?”

She felt the spike of arousal that flared in the prince. Isabel put space between them, staring straight ahead, hiding her satisfaction. The prince dropped back to walk behind her. Isabel glanced to her other side at Aed, ready to wink at him, but her lover didn’t look at her.

The lead guard stopped midway down a nondescript corridor. He looked back, trying to catch his master’s eye, but Oisin jabbed him. The solider put his hand on the wall and a section disappeared. The hidden corridor on the other side was narrow and low ceilinged, lit by chunks of quartz embedded in the wall every few feet.

The air crackled. Cairbe shucked his unfastened shirt only to have different garments appear on his body, transforming him from rake to crown prince in less than a second. The gold doublet matched the shimmer of his hair, and the boots that now covered his feet and lower legs were a buttery yellow leather. Apparently he didn’t want to enter this rather grim place barefoot and half naked.

“Prince Oisin, I will go first.” Aed pushed his way to the front.

Isabel shivered, acutely aware of how alone she was without him at her side. She tried not to take it personally that he’d left her. After all, his first duty was to guard the royal family, and yet part of her had stupidly hoped he’d remain with her.

Aed ducked into the servants’ corridor, having to turn his shoulders so he’d fit.

Oisin was the next to enter, following close on Aed’s heels. The prince’s desperation was a palpable thing. The solider who’d led them went next. Cairbe motioned for Isabel to go, and after a moment’s contemplation she too entered the small stone hallway. Cairbe followed her in, which was some relief. She didn’t trust the prince, but she trusted Lord Fionnin even less.

Isabel put one foot in front of the other, concentrating not on where she was going but on what she knew. She had been a vampire for many hundreds of years, and since the signing of the Wraith Accords she’d made it her business to know about the Tuatha de Danaan. Their history had been warped by time and changed by the Christian monks who recorded the tales, and yet there had to be something in there that could help her.