Carnal Magic: The Wraith Accords, Book 1 (2 page)

The tolling bell fell silent.

“Follow me.” Aed dropped her arm. She felt naked without his strong presence at her side.

Aed preceded her through the gate, and Isabel followed close on his heels.

The castle wall was at least twenty feet thick, judging by the tunnel they passed through. The high, arched walls were covered with more of the protective carvings, but she didn’t miss the dark, square openings at the top of the arch. Murder holes—used to pour boiling water or oil down on invaders. She wondered if the Tuatha de Danaan had taught the humans that particular trick.

On the far side of the tunnel was another set of gates, this one of metal. They too swung open, and Isabel was struck by how unnecessary such elaborate defenses were. The Tuatha de Danaan had created this dimension—Fae—and controlled it. It was on Earth, and time moved at roughly the same speed as it did in the human dimension, yet it was its own physical reality, with different landmasses, different oceans. If it was a world of their making and under their control, what enemies were they defending themselves against? These walls had been here long before the Vampire came to Fae.

The Wraith Accords, signed two hundred years ago by leaders of Vampire and the Tuatha de Danaan, had granted Vampires access to this world. The Plain of Moytura now held a Vampire city, in which there were doorways leading to key places in the human world, including the cities where each of the major Cabals were. Isabel didn’t fully understand what the Tuatha de Danaan had gained in return for this, but she knew it had something to do with the fact that the Tuatha de had found it harder and harder to enter the human realm, and as their connection to the humans faded so did their power.

How exactly she and her people fixed that problem Isabel wasn’t sure, though she’d be delighted to find out. That would be powerful information to take back to her Cabal. She’d always suspected that Duke Drakul knew more than he would say. He’d negotiated and signed the Wraith Accords with the High King of the Tuatha de Danaan.

As she stepped out of the tunnel, Isabel’s breath caught in her throat.

This castle did not boast a simple courtyard inside its walls. A view unlike anything she’d ever seen, maybe even beyond what she could imagine, stretched before her.

“This is the midnight garden, and that—” he pointed to the top of a hill on the far side of the garden, “—is Tara, the heart of Fae, seat of the High King and Queen of the Tuatha de Danaan
.
” Here the moonlight shone dully on his armor and painted the planes of his face with silver light. His eyes were so blue, they seemed to glow. But even the handsome warrior was not enough to distract Isabel from the awe-inspiring sight before her.

“I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Maybe she should have tried to hide her wonder, but she could not bring herself to turn away and deny herself this moment. She’d never expected to feel this sense of awe again. She thought she’d seen or imagined all the world had to offer. How wrong she’d been.

A delicate stone castle, seeming to grow from the top of the hill at the center of the enormous courtyard garden, was a white silhouette against the night sky. It was a massive structure, with more buildings than she could count and at least twenty delicate towers. Slender arched bridges connected it all like the silk strands of a spider’s web. The castle seemed to glow in the moonlight, the stones every shade of blue and purple.

All around the base of the castle was a sheer vertical cliff, as if the hill had been cut away to raw stone, making the castle impenetrable from below.

Between the bottom of the hill and where she stood was a park-like garden at least twenty acres large bisected by a white stone road. The plants on either side were shades of midnight blue, black, deep green and purple. Pathways of pale stone wound to white-domed gazebos. Ponds, both small and nearly large enough to be called lakes, were covered in lily pads and dotted with the thick-petaled, waxy white flowers. Twisted black trees supported canopies of royal blue wisteria. Globes of light, as large as a fortuneteller’s ball, lined the main path, each one floating at knee height. Strands of smaller lights dangled from the trees and sparkled under the surface of a few of the ponds.

“You’re crying,” Aed said.

Isabel touched her cheek, pulled her hand away to look at the dampness on her fingers.

It was a stupid waste to cry. There was water in the blood she drank, but it was hard for her body to produce something like tears. She was old enough that she could drink water if needed, though it was far from a pleasant experience.

“The beauty of this place touches me. I hadn’t imagined that I could be surprised again. I have lived a long time.”

Aed bowed to her, and another tear rolled down Isabel’s cheek.

When he straightened he said, “You honor this place with such a tribute.”

“The honor is mine.”

Aed smiled, a tentative twitch of his lips. “I too have lived a long time and still am surprised.”

“And what surprises you, Sir Aed?”

Their gazes met. “You do, Lady Isabel.”

C
hapter Two

I
sabel took a breath—the air tasted like growing things, yet she could easily pick out the scent of the warrior at her side. He smelled like oil and metal, and rich, rich blood. Below that was the scent of man, both reminiscent of, and nothing like, that of a human male. The desire for him swelled in her. Isabel felt her nipples harden under the tight bodice of her gown.

She wondered if the impression he gave on their walk—that he was not considered handsome among his people—was true. It could be a ruse to gain her sympathy, in which case it had worked to some degree. Aed was devastatingly handsome. She’d never seen a more kissable pair of lips on a man. She pitied him only in that if it was true that he was not thought of as handsome the Tuatha de Danaan must be both very beautiful and very rude. All he’d need to do to know his worth would be to spend a single day in the human world, where he would be a god among men.

It was no surprise they’d once been hailed as exactly that.

“We should go.” He gestured to the castle.

“Of course.” Isabel ran her tongue over her fangs as she followed him along the globe-lined path.

Once or twice she thought she saw something moving in the garden, but as fast as she was she couldn’t catch sight of them—whatever they were.

“More than plants live in this garden,” she said.

“Of course,” was his reply.

They reached a small structure at the base of the cliff atop which the castle sat. Fifty feet above them, the verdant green stopped abruptly, giving way to sheer rock that looked smooth as glass.

“From here I have to blindfold you.” Aed drew her into the guardhouse. It was empty except for a stone pillar in the center of the room, directly under a skylight. A blindfold waited in the shaft of moonlight.

Isabel nodded her consent as Aed picked it up, bringing it to her. He stood close enough that her skirts covered his feet.

“I will not let any harm come to you while you’re without sight,” he said softly.

Isabel touched his cheek, watched him stiffen at the contact. “I know.”

Then he was sliding the blindfold over her eyes and tying it behind her head. Isabel closed her eyes behind the fabric to help herself concentrate. If she needed to leave in a hurry she wanted to be able to retrace her steps.

Aed placed her hand on his arm. “Follow me.” They exited the small gatehouse, took five steps, turned right, then started up a long flight of stairs, Aed guiding her up each step.

Aed caught Isabel as she fell. The magic woven into the blindfold was working. When he pulled it off, setting it back on the pedestal, he could see her eyes moving behind her eyelids.

She would have a memory of their trek from the garden up into the castle, a false memory created by her expectations. There were those who visited Tara who told stories of dragons and monsters guarding the castle, none of it true except in their own minds.

He bent and placed a hand under her knees. As he lifted her, her cloak fell open, revealing the fitted dress she wore. Her breasts were firm mounds above the top of it, her narrow waist making her décolletage and hips seem all the more lush.

Aed had a vivid image of her on her knees before him, bound and helpless, his to use as he pleased and as it pleased her.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed the image away and willed open the door that led to the castle. The wall across from them parted, stone sliding smoothly into a recess to reveal the ever-present gateway on the other side.

He did his best to stay away from the politics of the court and from the sexual games of power and submission favored by most of the Tuatha de Danaan. He was a solider, a man of honor, and preferred the peace and solitude favored by the Hill of Allen when he was not called to guard one of the royal family. He winced, remembering the time he’d spent in service to the Princess of Winter.

He needed to focus. They were about to enter the belly of this beautiful beast—and he was carrying a very dangerous person, one whom he both distrusted and wanted to protect.

Mind cleared of distractions, Aed tightened his hold on the vampire and stepped through the gateway.

Is
abel opened her eyes, blinking to focus her vision.

“Lady Isabel?”

She turned to Aed, who was standing beside her. “There weren’t as many stairs as I thought.” She brushed at the hem of her cloak. It had taken them less than ten minutes of climbing—and two hundred and fourteen stairs by her count—to reach the top.

“Where are we?” she asked, looking around. They were in a square room. It was a grand space, with a polished marble floor, towering glass ceiling and curved columns that looked like flower stems supporting the glass above. Torches circled the columns at head height, but only one was lit.

Aed lifted it down and she saw that the stone handle was topped not by fire, but by another glowing orb like those they’d seen in the garden.

“This is one of the entry halls.”

“One of?”

“This castle is as old as Fae. I do not know all of it myself, and I would say there are few who do.”

They passed under the squares of moonlight, leaving the entry room for a large hallway. Their path twisted and turned, taking them along wide stone hallways, across sky bridges where the wind whipped Isabel’s hair and cloak, up and down stairways both straight and spiraled, and through courtyard gardens so lush and vibrant that Isabel couldn’t stop herself from slowing her pace to examine the flora. Once she looked back only to see that the opening they’d just come through was gone, a solid wall in its place.

With a rueful smile Isabel realized how naïve it was to think she could find her way out of here on her own. A seed of trepidation rooted in her belly, but she pushed it aside.

They entered a courtyard, the largest they’d passed through so far. Towering trees with trunks and protruding roots like banyans sat in the four corners, while a circular tiled mosaic floor took up the center of the square, its colors muted in the shadow of the trees.

Aed stiffened, then motioned for her to use a path along the edge rather than pass through the center. Something about his posture was different, and Isabel responded to his nonverbal signals—examining the courtyard for danger lurking in the shadows and root hollows. There was nothing there.

“Aed, my friend. Won’t you introduce me to our guest?”

Standing in the center of the mosaic, where there had been no one a moment before, was a tall, golden-haired man.

He waved his hand and lights flared to life in the canopy of the trees, bright as sunlight.

Isabel hissed, falling back a step before she could stop herself. The golden-haired male focused on her.

“Fear not, vampire. There is no sunlight here.” His words were musical to the point of being song, his accent making the French words sound even more lyrical than they already were.

Aed dropped to one knee, torch still held in one hand. “My Prince.”

Isabel looked from him to the figure. The golden-haired man seemed to be waiting, but Isabel knew her manners. Until introductions were made she would not curtsey.

The golden-haired man raised a brow. “Aed, introduce us.” He spoke in a language Isabel didn’t recognize, but she knew enough to pick out the words. It must be the language of the Tuatha de Danaan, which was the root of the human Celtic languages. Luckily Isabel had made a point of learning some of those, including Gaulish, which hadn’t survived to modern times, and Irish and Welsh, which humans still spoke.

She kept her face neutral, looking between the men as if she did not understand him.

Aed lifted his head, though he remained on one knee. “Prince Cairbe, this is Lady Isabel, Sage of the Bucharest Cabal and Counselor to Duke Drakul.” Her titles rolled smoothly off his tongue in French. Aed turned his head enough to look at her, and his eyes were hard and full of warning. “Lady Isabel, this is Prince Cairbe, Lord of Spring and oldest child of High King Cormac and High Queen Albha.”

Isabel sank into a deep curtsey, holding it for several beats before rising. Perhaps she should have waited for an invitation to rise, but she was no subject here, she was an ambassador. Among the Vampire she was of equivalent rank as this prince.

And she would not let any of them forget it.

“Prince Cairbe.” She pronouncing it carefully.
Ka-bra.

He bowed, smiling at her all the while. “Lady Isabel. Welcome to Tara.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

His smile tightened and he took a step toward where she stood, safely in the shadows at the edge the courtyard.

Up close, he was perfect. His nose was narrow and straight, his eyes the green of spring. His hair sparkled in the light while dark lashes framed his incredible eyes. His lips could have been chiseled from stone they were so well formed. But they were not kissable the way Aed’s were.

The only flaw in his handsome, symmetrical face was a small beauty mark at the corner of his right eyebrow.

Desire rippled through her, and Isabel found herself looking him up and down, mentally stripping off the leather shirt and pants he wore. She had no doubt he would be well formed. Her nipples drew into tight peaks, her blood pooled in her sex, making her aware of her pussy in a way she had not been moments before. Each breath seemed to heighten her arousal, as if there were nothing more sensual than the way air slipped over her lips.

The more she looked the more she wanted him, but it was a strangely emotionless thing. Taking several steps forward, out of the safety of the shadows, she raised a hand toward his face. She needed him, wanted him. She would give anything to touch him, be touched by him. She would shed her dress, bare herself to him.

There the fantasy stopped. She didn’t crave him the way she’d once craved sweets, or the way she craved Aed. It was a mindless wanting. Almost as if…

As if her desire for him was born of magic, not lust.

Isabel pricked her tongue on her fang. The taste of blood, even her own, brought out the monster within her. Bloodlust was strong enough to override most magic. When she looked back at Prince Cairbe, the lust was still there, but it was muted. She dropped her hand.

Isabel caught the flash of surprise on his face and heard Aed’s armor clanking as if he too were reacting to her actions. Isabel curled her nails into her palm to control her anger. How
dare
he try to manipulate her?

“Tsk, tsk, Prince Cairbe.” She kept her tone light but could not stop herself from staring at his neck, imagining sinking her fangs into him. She’d make it hurt. “Are manners so different here in Tara that it’s acceptable for you to use your magic to lure an unwilling woman to your bed?”

He reacted as if she’d struck him—eyes round with shock, weight on his back leg.

“Isabel.” Aed’s voice held a hint of panic.

She braced herself for the prince’s anger, ready and willing to battle. He’d behaved badly and she’d called him on it. If he attacked now, the Vampire would be the wronged party…

…and free to attack Tara.

“You surprise me, Lady Isabel.” Cairbe’s voice was tight. “I assure you I meant no harm. There are some things we cannot control.”

She raised a brow. “I remember feeling like that, when I was very young.”

His lips twisted, and this time she was sure he’d lash out, but instead he started laughing. The sound was joyous and pure, like the toll of the finest bell. The lights in the trees brightened to a glaring whiteness and Isabel stepped back into the shadows, distrustful of that light.

“Well met, my lady.” Cairbe’s laughter faded to a smile. “I had not thought to find you so clever.” He raised his hands. “No games, I truly meant no harm.”

“Nor did I.” Isabel matched his smile. “Had I meant to harm anyone, I think I would not start the fight with you.”

“You flatter me. I enjoy it.” He turned to Aed. “Best of luck. I do not envy you this guard.”

The prince snapped his fingers. A woman crawled toward him from a hollow in the roots of one of the trees. Isabel stiffened. The woman was dirty, with smudges on her otherwise pale skin. Her hair was in a long braid that trailed in the dirt. She was naked except for the chains that bound her.

There was a heavy collar around her neck. It was a crude thing, especially here, because Isabel knew the Tuatha de were capable of creating delicate, intricate metalwork. A thick chain trailed down the woman’s back, passing between the cheeks of her ass and then following a line up the center of her body to reconnect with the heavy collar.

The tinkling of small bells accompanied each movement. When she was closer Isabel could see the large rings through the woman’s nipples and the lips of her sex, from which dangled little bells. They reminded Isabel of the belled belly chains and anklets she’d worn in her long-ago life in a harem, but those had been meant to entice, to pleasure.

Beneath the chain, the woman’s skin was red and bloodied. Isabel inhaled, tasting the scent of that blood. It was rich, powerful, and if she had to guess she’d say the woman was Tuatha de Danaan, but there was something off about the scent. It reminded Isabel of the few times she’d tasted the blood of someone who was poisoned, either with disease or actual poison.

Cairbe reached down and took hold of the braid, jerking the woman forward. Her wrists and ankles were manacled, the chains between them too short to be practical, so she toppled forward onto the tiles. She screamed as she was dragged by her hair.

“You too,” the prince said, motioning to another tree. A second woman appeared. She too was naked. A high gold collar forced her chin up. A delicate chain led from the front of the collar to rings in her nipples. More chains hung from the peaks of her breasts, circling her back and dropping lower to disappear into her naked sex. The woman kept her eyes down though her chin was forced up. As she turned to follow the prince, Isabel saw welts covering her ass.

The trio disappeared through an arch opposite where Isabel stood.

When they were out of sight, Aed rose from his knee. The light in the trees winked out, and Aed touched the torch he held, brightening the glow within the globe.