Carnal Magic: The Wraith Accords, Book 1 (13 page)

His laughter deepened to true amusement as he shook off bits of fabric and splintered wood.

“I fucking hate you,” Isabel snarled in Romanian.

“I like your pet fairy. Very noble.” Drake rotated his right wrist, the bone having already healed. “Does this mean we can’t have a fight?”

Isabel couldn’t stop her snarl of frustration.

Aed cleared his throat. “This is your…husband?”

“No.” Isabel forced her hands to relax. “Once. But not any longer.”

Drake kicked some chair bits out of the way. “She was a terrible wife, but she’s an excellent fighter. And one of the only vampires I can do battle with.” He advanced on Aed, hand out.

Aed pressed the tip of his sword against the base of Drake’s throat, ignoring his outstretched hand.

“Isabel, tell your pet to stand down.” Drake spoke in Romanian, his voice devoid of all teasing. There was a point past which the Judge of Bucharest should not be pushed. This was it.

Isabel laid her hand on Aed’s arm. “There’s no need. Drake and I cannot be in the same room without wanting to kill each other. It’s been that way for hundreds of years.”

For a long minute Aed didn’t respond, and the tension racketed up, but then he sheathed his sword.

Drake held out his hand again. Aed clasped it—fingers curled over the wrist he’d broken only a minute before. Isabel saw the moment of surprise flicker across Drake’s face. It had been a long time since anyone would have greeted him with that warrior’s gesture.

“I am Drake, Judge of Bucharest, son of Duke Drakul.”

Aed nodded. “I’m Aed mac Goll.”

“Great, everyone knows everyone.” Isabel forced a smile, then switched to Romanian. “Now go fuck yourself, Drake.”

“Fuck yourself?” Aed repeated in badly accented Romanian. “I don’t know that phrase.”

Isabel froze.

Drake cackled, his dark eyes now warm and dangerously alluring. “You know Romanian?”

“No.” Aed eyed the other man warily. “But I understand some of what you’re saying. The language is Romanian?”

“I’ll explain, as soon as my esteemed friend leaves.” Isabel smiled wide, this time letting her fangs show.

Drake eyed her mouth. “Promises, promises, my lovely wife. But you’re right. I must leave.” He nodded once to Aed. “It’s nice to meet you, and I hope someday I’ll hear the story of why you’re here, and why you’re protecting the lovely Isabel.”

With a mocking bow, Drake left. Aed looked at Isabel, questions in his eyes. Isabel opened her mouth, closed it, unsure how to begin explaining Drake.

Tereza knocked once before slipping in through the open door, arms full of fabric. “I have clothes, my lady.”

Isabel turned away from Aed, glad for the interruption. “Thank you. Let’s have a look.” She helped Tereza spread the garments out on the bed. Ionel came in with a basket of shoes. He frowned when he saw that Aed was fully clad in his armor but went to help remove it. In no time Aed was stripped down to his leather garments once more.

Isabel waved Tereza and Ionel out of the room.

Aed was plucking at some of the things on the bed, his expression once more an amusing mix of suspicious and curious.

“You’re going to have to take off your clothes.”

Aed raised his head oh-so-slowly, and when his gaze met hers there was fire in his eyes.

Isabel took a deep breath in through her nose, reminding herself that she couldn’t trust him. The connection she thought she’d felt for him was only in her foolish mind. And oh, she was fool, because she wanted him still. She wanted to leap onto the bed and grab him, kiss him until she couldn’t remember why that was a terrible idea.

Isabel plucked out a dress shirt and a pair of dark slacks. “Try these on.”

Aed caught them from the air when she tossed them, staring at the fabric uncertainly. He stripped off his shirt, leaving his heavily muscled chest bare.

Isabel’s fangs lengthened. She could hear the beating of his heart.

Aed was watching her watch him, and she told herself to turn away, but didn’t. When he shucked his pants, revealing his semi-erect cock, she finally moved, walking casually across the room as if she were unaffected by the sight of him. She doubted he was fooled.

Fabric ripped. Aed cleared his throat. “I don’t think these will fit.”

Isabel stifled a laugh when she saw that the slacks were only midway up his thickly muscled thighs. Keeping her mind off his attractive physique, she sorted through the clothes and started handing him things.

“Put those on first. They’re undergarments—drawers.”

“They’re very small.” Aed eyed what she handed him.

The navy blue boxer briefs fit—and were snug enough that they didn’t help Isabel keep her mind off wanting to fuck him.

“I think I like these. Is this what human men wear out?”

“No, you’ll have to wear some pants.” Isabel’s lips twitched. “Let’s get you a shirt first.”

He’d just put on a plain white undershirt when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Isabel called as she checked the label on a pair of jeans.

“Lady Isabel?”

She knew from the scent that at least three humans had entered the room, and the speaker was someone whose voice she didn’t recognize. Checking over her shoulder, she saw three slim, blonde women in silky nightgowns slide into the room, their eyes on the floor.

They were
oranges sanguine
—blood oranges, the slightly crude name for humans who lived among the Vampire. Human mythology was rife with stories of people being kidnapped and drained of blood by vampires. Such an act was forbidden by the Cabals and very rare in Vampire history, but the few times it had happened it had usually been a spectacular mess, making it memorable enough to enter the human canon. The truth was, the Vampire lived off the blood of the willing. A vampire bite was intensely pleasurable. These three probably belonged to Roman, head of one of the vampire covens in Turkey, who liked to spend time in Bucharest when he wanted to get away from the politics inside his coven. Roman had a thing for matching humans—his
oranges sanguine
always matched. It didn’t matter what they looked like, as long as they resembled each other. Apparently this month’s flavor was slim blondes with short hair.

“Why are you here?” Isabel’s tone was sharper than she’d intended and all three women cowered. She wondered what Roman had told them about her.

“We helped Ms. Tereza find the clothes.” The apparent leader swallowed, and her blood was pumping hard from anxiety. “We were just curious.”

“Where is your master?” Isabel asked.

“He’s sleeping.”

“Ah, well then.” Isabel looked at the humans, who still hadn’t raised their heads. She caught sight of Aed’s confused expression. “They’re the human…companions…of a vampire who is currently living here. He’s gone to ground. Vampires can go into a kind of hibernation and sleep for days, weeks and even months.”

Aed eyed the trio. “They are human?”

“Yes.”

“And the two who were here before, the man and woman?”

“They are human too.” Isabel raised a brow. “Is this the first time you’ve ever met a human?”

“Yes.”

“And what do you think?”

Aed frowned. “I thought they’d be…different.”

“Different how?”

He cleared his throat. “I thought they would have bigger heads.”

That startled a laugh out of Isabel. “Bigger heads?” Isabel took a seat in what had been one of a pair of antique Georgian armchairs. Its mate was in pieces after having been hurled at Drake. Isabel contemplated Aed for a moment. She’d spent days among his people feeling like she was out of her depth. It was time to return the favor.

“Girls.” Isabel tried and failed to hide her mischievous smile. “That handsome man over there needs to be dressed to go out. Have at it.”

Three blonde heads snapped up. The one who’d spoken grinned, then made her way to Aed, who took a half step in retreat.

Ten minutes later Isabel had to admit she was impressed.

Roman’s trio of humans were eyeing Aed with a mixture of pride and longing.

“Well done,” Isabel said to them.

“Thank you,” each murmured in turn.

Aed shifted side to side, then stuck his hands in his pockets. One of the women sighed.

They’d found him a pair of dark jeans that were just snug enough to hug his thighs. A belt took care of the slightly too-big waist. On top he wore a tight-fitting navy V-neck T-shirt with sleeves that stopped just at the little dip between the muscles of his shoulder and biceps. Aed pulled on the black jacket with a priest collar, completing the outfit that so skillfully showed off his impressive physique.

“This is what human men wear?” Aed asked, fiddling with the tab of the jacket zipper.

“They don’t wear it like that,” one of the girls said.

Isabel laughed. “No, they don’t. I’m going to change. Aed, I’ll meet you in the foyer.”

Isabel winked at the women, who blushed and stammered, clearly shocked at the informality of it. Isabel sighed. Sometimes having to act like the Sage, on top of actually doing the work of the Sage, was a bit wearing.

Confident that the humans would guide Aed, Isabel slipped away. Her chambers were in a private wing of the mansion and only accessible through a series of heavily secured doors. There were no picturesque balconies here, but the three-room apartment suited her. She went to the walk-in closet, but not to pick an outfit. Instead she tripped the lever hidden in the cedar paneling behind one of the dress racks. A lighted display of shoes swung forward, allowing her to slip into the secret room beyond.

It was small and utilitarian, the antithesis of her lushly decorated and furnished bedroom, den and living room. Six computer monitors blinked to life when she tapped a few keys on the upper of two keyboards.

A hundred years ago she’d archived and recorded information in a massive library housed in a warehouse twenty miles away. In the past ten years she’d gone digital, allowing her to hide the true power and knowledge she commanded as Sage right here in the mansion.

Isabel had lived long enough to know that beauty hid intelligence. It was true both for people and places—only the Duke knew this room was here, and she’d personally helped ensure the silence of the workmen and technicians who’d built it. The massive databases and information stores contained on the computer would spell disaster if they fell into the wrong hands, but no one would think to find them here, hidden by designer dresses and expensive shoes.

She checked the search she’d started running after getting Aed into bed. There were over three thousand results. Dragging them onto another screen, she started narrowing down what she was looking for, adding parameters to the query.

Three thousand became three hundred, then no more than a dozen.

“Much better.” She smiled, tucking one leg under her on the ergonomic office chair.

Isabel pulled up each of the records for the twelve she’d narrowed it down to. Of those, half were historically recent enough to have pictures accompanying the news articles. On the seventh one she found what she was looking for. Isabel considered the image, then checked the date. Her fingers tingled—this was it.

She read over what little information she had in the database, committing everything to memory in a matter of moments.

When she slipped out of the data room, her fangs were out, but not from fear or arousal—from excitement. The hunt was onC
hapter Twelve

A
ed was simultaneously fascinated and horrified. There were humans
everywhere.

Isabel touched his arm. “You okay?”

“What is that?” He pointed at a pink, blue and green sculpture made out of light.

“That’s the sign for a strip club.”

“Strip club.” Though they were speaking French, he didn’t understand.

“It’s a place where humans preform dances for each other, but while they’re dancing they take off their clothes.”

“Ah, then the rather risqué nature of that sculpture makes sense.” He examined the overly curvy woman’s silhouette depicted in light.

“That’s not a sculpture, just an advertisement.”

Aed hurried to keep up with Isabel, who wound her way effortlessly through the groups of humans on the sidewalk. Ionel had brought them into the city in a car—Aed had heard of cars and even seen them in photos of the mortal realm, but he’d never been in one. He liked the sound it made.

He heard at least three different languages being spoken as they walked. Sometimes the human groups were exclusively one gender, sometimes they were mixed. When a woman wearing a very small amount of pink fabric broke away from her companions to touch his arm, her hair sliding over her bare shoulders, Aed froze.

Isabel rescued him, bumping the other women out of the way and skewering her with a glare. The pink-clad human sneered at Isabel. Aed held his breath, ready for the fight, but Isabel merely tossed her head and tugged him away.

“I guess I should have expected that you’d attract attention, looking that good.”

She was still holding his arm, and it reminded him of the way they’d walked together through the halls of Tara. He relaxed.

“I am surprised she dared challenge you.” Aed felt less out of place with Isabel at his side.

“She doesn’t know I’m a vampire.”

Aed nodded. He’d forgotten that humans thought vampires were myth. “And you didn’t take offense at what she did?”

“The human world doesn’t work like that. Frankly, neither does the Vampire, though there are a few who find the formality of manners and class structure comforting.”

“What do you mean ‘doesn’t work like that’?”

“Even if I had been offended by what that woman did, I couldn’t have acted on it.”

“Because you have to keep your nature a secret?”

“That, and because it’s a stupid waste of time. That woman—” Isabel gesture behind them, “—was putting on a show, nothing more.”

“In Fae, to look at someone like that is to invite trouble.”

Isabel laughed hollowly. “I know.”

He could have bitten his tongue. Reminding her of Fae was probably not a good thing.

They crossed another street onto a sidewalk that was crowded with what felt like hundreds of humans, but these were all standing to the side, clustered in small groups and chatting. Isabel led him past these people until they reached a set of doors. Music poured out, and the people closest to the doors were smiling and preening.