Carnal Magic: The Wraith Accords, Book 1 Page 11

  “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.

  She ran through dozens of scenarios, but none answered all the questions. There were many players in the game and each had a different motivation. Without more information she could only guess at what this latest act was meant to achieve and who it would benefit. Still, she’d lived long enough to recognize that the undercurrents at play were enough to drown her and dismantle the hard-won alliance between the Vampire and the Tuatha de Danaan. She would not allow that.

  The hall opened up into a more refined corridor, though it was a far cry from the lovely passages used by the public. They stayed in the main hall, ignoring closed doorways and branching corridors. They passed through a metal gate set with a symbol Isabel now recognized as that of the House of Munster. Here they turned left, and from the smells of cooking Isabel assumed they were near the kitchen. Though she noted their surroundings, her focus was inward. One after another she ran through scenarios as to what would come next. When they stopped, gathering around the bloody carcass on the floor of a small, utilitarian pantry, Isabel was ready for what was about to happen.

  Aed stared at the body on the ground. He knew this creature. The servant wore a brown leather vest stitched with the crest of the High House of Munster. Soft brown fur covered the creature’s exposed limbs and fox-like face. It was the same servant who’d applied a bandage to his face and given him a biscuit after he’d stumbled into the servants’ corridors the night of the banquet.

  The fur on her neck was matted with blood.

  Isabel stared down at the aos sí, a small frown marring her brow. Aed switched his gaze to the wall. He couldn’t bear to look at Isabel, not after watching her plan to have sex with Cairbe.

  What he’d shared with Isabel was something he’d never thought to experience—she made him feel things he never had before. Yet it was clear that to Isabel he was just another lover—a way to pass the time while waiting to meet with the High King. It was her nature, and not her fault he’d been so foolish as to fall in love.

  A Fenian in love with the Vampire ambassador. A tale worthy of the many tragic stories that littered the history of the Fianna.

  He had his duty—to the Tuatha de Danaan, to the royal family and to Isabel. His stupidity and broken heart could not influence how he behaved. Though he vowed that when she went to Cairbe’s bed he would ask that another be given this job. He could say that he needed to train—it had been days since he’d done any of his exercises. Then no one but him would know his shame—that it would kill him if he had to stand outside Cairbe’s chambers while the crown prince fucked the woman he loved.

  Oisin caught his attention. The prince staggered back a step, leaning against the wall, his hands covering his face. He was shaking.

  Cairbe too was looking at Oisin.

  Lord Fionnin pushed forward. “See? It was the vampire. She’s a devious liar, and we should not trust anything she’s said or done.”

  Isabel crouched, peering at the creature’s neck. “And what makes you think I did this?”

  “Isn’t this not how you feed? Using your fangs on the neck?”

  “It is.”

  “No one else in all of Tara would do such a thing.”

  “No one in Tara would do such a thing.” Isabel straightened. “Including me.”

  “Who then?”

  “Someone who wishes to see the Accords fail.”

  “That is a serious accusation.” Cairbe was suddenly his father’s son, each word spoken carefully.

  “As is the one I face.” Isabel scanned the crowd, her gaze coming to rest of Aed.

  He looked away.

  “Why would I do this?” Isabel asked the group.

  “Perhaps you think that you’re stronger or better than us. That we would not punish you for your crimes.” Fionnin’s mouth was pinched, the lines on his face all the more apparent. He had not aged well, the mistakes made by the House of Munster in the past showing in the way he’d grown old.

  Isabel glanced around the room again. “And you all find it easier to believe that I somehow found this creature, fed on her until she died and risked the dissolution of the Wraith Accords for no other reason than because I thought it could get away with it?”

  Aed held bac
k a smile. She really was magnificent. Fionnin clearly wanted to hurt Isabel, but she was too clever to fall into his clumsy trap, and with Prince Cairbe and Prince Oisin here, Fionnin wouldn’t be able to manipulate her. Cairbe, for all his games, was his father’s son and not known to be unfair.

  “Lady Isabel could hardly have wandered through Tara to attack this servant.” Cairbe spoke slowly.

  “She could. She walks in the day. The Vampire have lied to us—they do not fear the sunlight. It’s a ruse. My servants have seen her out wandering the hall, spying on us.” Fionnin flicked one finger at Isabel. “She was in the rose court this morning.”

  Aed saw her shoulders twitch slightly. Fionnin wasn’t lying—she’d ignored his warnings and gone out alone. His jaw clenched in anger—he’d told her not to do that after the first morning, and clearly she’d not only disregarded his words, but she’d hidden the fact from him. Aed looked at the dead servant and for the first time felt some doubt.

  Cairbe looked at Fionnin, seeming to consider the older man. Aed did not envy the prince—the situation had no easy resolution. Unexpectedly, Cairbe turned to him.

  “Aed, you have been with Lady Isabel, yes?”

  Aed struggled to hide his feelings before answering. “I have.”

  “Was there ever a time when Lady Isabel was not with you? Did she have the opportunity to do this?”

  Aed shifted as all eyes turned to him. The Lord of Spring had asked a question of a Fenian. The weight of what he must say weighed on Aed. He met Isabel’s gaze. “She did.”

  Isabel’s eyes widened and lips parted in shock. The hurt he saw in her eyes stabbed at him, but he would not lie to his prince, not even to protect the one he loved. He had his duty, and to betray his honor for a love that was one-sided was the height of stupidity.

  “How would she have known about the servant’s corridors?” Oisin had gathered himself and pushed away from the wall. Aed was standing close enough that he could see the prince’s face had regained some color. He seemed calmer than he had before. Whatever Oisin had feared had not come to pass.

  This time Aed could not look at Isabel when he spoke, though he wished he had another answer to give. “The night of the banquet Lady Isabel saw one of the servant corridors open.” It was a truthful answer to the question asked. But Aed did not say that this very servant was one he’d encounter that night. No additional fuel was needed for this fire.