Carnal Magic: The Wraith Accords, Book 1 (17 page)

Isabel considered that. “Well, it must have worked to some degree, otherwise the woman would have died. She looked about forty, meaning that even though a hundred years passed she only aged fifteen or twenty years since she disappeared. Maybe you’re right, and instead of having the true lifespan of one of the Tuatha de Danaan she’s merely aging very slowly.”

“Could you find the Tuath changeling, the person who was taken out of Fae?” Aed stared down at his clenched fists. “Even if she is no longer living, could you find her so that we might bury her?”

Isabel wished she could simply say yes. “I don’t know.” Isabel frowned as she considered. “When humans disappear, there are often records. A seemingly human woman simply appearing wouldn’t necessarily be news—humans travel and move around a lot. A new arrival would be assumed to have come from somewhere else—as in another human country.”

“But you will look?”

“I will. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

The flight attendant cleared away dishes and stowed the table, then asked them to take their seats because they were beginning their descent. Isabel checked the window. Dawn was somewhere behind them, but once they landed they wouldn’t have long before the sun was up.

“You won’t like this part.” Isabel sat beside Aed and helped him fasten his seat belt.

“Talk to me,” he begged. “When you talk to me I forget that we’re going to die.”

“We’re not going to die, but maybe now you understand why we needed the portals. Human travel is dangerous for Vampire.”

“It feels dangerous for Tuatha de Danaan, too.”

Isabel laughed and took his hands, letting him squeeze hers as the plane dipped into a descent.

“Have I told you about my human life?” she asked, hoping to distract him.

“No.” He bit off the word.

Isabel settled back in the seat. It had been a few decades since she’d told this story. “I was born to peasants in Andalusia but spent my life as a concubine in Granada, just before the Ottoman Empire retreated from what is now Spain.”

“Concubine?”

“A pleasure slave, but a very skilled one.” Isabel felt his start of surprise. “I was taken when I was only a child and trained in music, art, conversation and, of course, how to pleasure a man.”

“As a child? That’s…”

“The human world was a brutal place then—and now. But today they hide the basest part of their nature. I was actually fortunate. I would have lived and died in the mud of a farm without ever learning more than a few hundred words, and certainly I wouldn’t have been able to read or write if I hadn’t been sold to a slaver.”

“Your family?”

“I never saw them again.”

“Did you suffer?”

“Suffer? No. It was not an easy life, but I was a favorite of the sultan, who liked my pale skin and dark hair. His first wife always found excuses to have me whipped when he was gone, but when the sultan was in residence I helped him entertain important guests, made sure he always got the better end of any bargain. He taught me how to see the secrets in someone’s eyes, how to negotiate and play games of power.” She rubbed Aed’s arm. “Though it has been a long time since the harem, I still use the skills I learned there. It wasn’t fair of me to get so angry when you said that the way I acted toward Cairbe made you think I was going to sleep with him. There was a time when I would have—either by my own choice or by order.”

Aed groaned. “The insult was more grave than I imagined.”

“I’ll forgive you, since I love you.”

“I love you, and I am sorry for the life you had.”

“I do not regret it, except that sometimes I use my sexuality when I don’t really need to. In all these centuries old habits still die hard.”

“Was the sultan a vampire?”

“No. But one day a powerful man came to visit—a warlord from the north. I was given to him for the night and told to learn his secrets. That warlord was Duke Drakul. I tried every trick I knew, and for a while he played along, pretending to succumb. But he was testing me. He said later that he saw something in me that called to his monster—his vampire nature—and after a night with me he knew I would make a powerful political asset.”

“Political asset?”

“A modern term for an old idea. Women couldn’t hold power in human society until only recently, but women often played the role I did for the sultan—that of spy and negotiator. You see, Drakul had a son, a son who was very good at war and battle and very bad at politics.”

“Drake.”

Isabel nodded. “Drakul asked for me as part of the deal he struck with the sultan. I was so scared.” Even now she could still remembered that feeling—the horror that had filled her as she stood to the side draped in veils while two men bargained for land and trade, ownership of her being tossed back and forth as negotiations went on, her life merely a small piece of a larger puzzle. She’d always known she was a slave, but until that moment it had never occurred to her that the sultan would give her away, forcing her to leave the only home she remembered.

“Once we reached Drakul’s stronghold, he turned me. Drake had not turned anyone successfully and so his father did it, then gave me to Drake.”

“Drakul made you Vampire so you could wed his son.”

“Exactly. I was made to be the wife of the future Vampire king.” Isabel rolled her eyes. “For the first year I didn’t understand what the change meant. I still thought of myself as a concubine and tried to be the perfect wife to Drake. He hated that his father had picked a woman for him, especially when he knew the reason for it was that Drakul didn’t think he was a capable leader on his own. He hated when I tried to please him. Everything I did—everything I’d been trained to do—just frustrated or disgusted him. He was ahead of his time, by hundreds of years, because he didn’t want a wife who had no choice in the matter.”

Aed grunted.

“What does that noise mean?”

“I find myself liking Drake.” Aed sounded disgruntled.

Isabel laughed at his reluctant admiration for Drake, then continued her story. “About a year after I’d been changed, we were attacked. They came in the daylight and overwhelmed the human soldiers outside. When they made their way in, the men went to battle. I hid in a corner, terrified. A few of the attackers found me. They started hurting me. I looked up and there was Drake, covered in blood, swords swinging. I expected him to save me. Instead he yelled ‘Fight!’

“With that one word, all my reservations fell away. I let myself be powerful. Every moment of fear or pain I’d been though rose up.” Isabel squeezed Aed’s hands. “They called it the Spanish massacre. I killed a hundred humans that day. Toward the end Drake ordered everyone else to step back. The vampire warriors locked the doors so our enemies couldn’t run from me. I killed them all with nothing but my hands and teeth.”

Aed regarded her solemnly. There was no disgust or judgment in his eyes.

“After that…well, I sometimes wonder if maybe Drake and I could have been husband and wife then. I remember him grinning at me as I killed. But I left. For two centuries I was on my own. I needed to learn who I was—I’d been a slave and I’d been a prize. I didn’t really know Isabel Santiago.”

“I know Isabel Santiago. She is the most beautiful, intelligent woman I’ve ever had the honor to meet.” Aed kissed her knuckles.

“Thank you. When I was tired of being alone, I went back to Drakul, who welcomed me, even when I said that I was not Drake’s wife. Drakul treated me as a daughter, teaching me how to rule and protect the Vampire.”

“And Drake?”

“We fought. All the time. Like siblings. More than once Drakul chained us together back to back in an effort to make us get along. Instead we’d slam each other into walls.”

Aed snorted out a laugh. “I should not find it funny, but after watching you throw a chair at him, I can imagine the scenario.”

“Much to the Duke’s despair we have not matured much. Drake likes to remind me that I was made Vampire to be his wife, simply to irritate me.”

“I am ashamed to admit that I am glad.”

“Glad?”

“That you never chose him as your husband. He is a powerful vampire, a good match for you. If you loved him once you might love him again, and that would mean you’d never love me.”

“I already love you.”

The plane hopped once as they set down on the runway. Aed peered out the window, then breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you for distracting me.”

“You’re more than welcome, my knight.” Isabel unbuckled her belt and went to a small cupboard where they kept a store of forged travel papers. “We have a long day ahead of us.”

“I have faith.”

Isabel looked up, a sheaf of documents in her hand. “Faith?”

“In you. In us.” Aed’s solemn words were marred by the fact that he was struggling with the seat belt.

“Faith.” Isabel went to help him so he wouldn’t ruin another seat. “It’s been a long time since anyone had faith in me.”

Aed stood and stretched, only to smack his hands into the low ceiling. “I have more faith in you than I do in this plane. Couldn’t we have taken a portal to Fae and then back to Bucharest?”

“Considering how I left Fae, I don’t want to risk returning until I’m ready to confront the issues hiding in Tara.”

Aed sighed and grumbled under his breath, which was adorable. Isabel was still smiling when they disembarked an hour later, just as the sun rose over England.

C
hapter Fifteen

A
ed now understood why Isabel said Bucharest was not a large human city. London was all noise and people and colors. Aed stuck close to Isabel’s side, finding it easier to deal with his surroundings by focusing on her.

It had taken them a few hours to get off the plane, and apparently he had “diplomatic papers”, whatever that meant. A car with tinted windows had brought them to a building in the center of this gray-stone city, where Isabel had a residence. Aed had heard about London, especially in the days before they’d retreated to Fae, and it was interesting to see it for himself—and easier to deal with from the controlled safety of the car.

Much to Aed’s horror, they’d left the “flat” on foot though it was early morning. Isabel had changed clothing before they got off the plane and now wore gray pants, a smooth top the color of ripe berries and a long black coat. She had an umbrella in her hand and was wearing a hat. He’d even watched her apply special make-up that she said protected her exposed skin.

Still, as they waited to cross a street Aed glanced nervously at the sky. He was ready to yank her into the shadows of a doorway should a stray ray of sunlight penetrate the clouds. He hadn’t forgotten what happened when he’d been tricked into exposing her to the sun. The way the light had cut through her skin, revealing muscle and tendon, was not something he would easily forget.

Isabel took his arm as they crossed the street. “What are you thinking about?”

“Things happened in Tara that we do not yet understand.”

“Which things?”

“The morning I almost killed you.”

“Hmm, I’d almost forgotten about that.”

“Then I wish I hadn’t raised the issue.”

“Whoever cast a spell on you would have to be powerful?”

“Very.”

“Who could do it?”

“The High King or Queen, the heads of some of the High Houses, maybe Cairbe or Oisin.”

“A short list, but that doesn’t really help us. We’ll discuss it on the train.”

“Train?”

“Yep. This way, we have twenty minutes to get to Waterloo Station.”

Aed stood at Isabel’s shoulder as she bought tickets from a human who stood behind a glass wall. He then followed her along a platform to a massive metal machine. Aed crouched to examine the tracks and wheels, fascinated.

“Boys and their trains—come on, Aed.”

They had two plush seats with a table between them, much like on the plane, but unlike the plane when the train started moving they rocked pleasantly side to side instead of lurching into the air.

Aed peered out the window, then smiled. “I think I like trains.”

Isabel laughed, and though he didn’t know why that was funny, he was happy she was smiling.

“It’s only a twenty-minute ride out to the National Archives.” She took his hands. “Well, my love, shall we discuss the time you tried to kill me?”

Aed frowned. “In all my life I have never treated a woman as ill as I have treated you. I don’t know what blessing I received that you saw past my mistakes to love me.”

“I only love you for your body.” Isabel’s head was tipped slightly to the side, her lips pursed.

Aed’s stomach clenched. She only loved the sex? Though it was the best sex he’d ever had, for Aed it was more than that, and he’d thought she felt the same.

Isabel’s lips twitched slightly. She coughed and covered her mouth with her hand, then resumed her serious expression.

Aed narrowed his eyes. “You’re lying.” She’d been smiling behind her hand while she coughed.

Isabel grinned. “Absolutely. It’s terribly fun to tease you.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Too bad. I do.”

They snipped and teased each other as the train barreled to Richmond and the National Archives.

Aed paced the aisle between two bookshelves filled with binders. “This is what you do?”

Isabel was seated on a stool in front of a “microfiche” machine, peering into the eyepiece. “Uh huh.”

Aed looked at the printouts she’d gotten from the humans upstairs. He was supposed to be reading them.

“How much more do you have to read?” They were underground, and it felt like they’d been there for days.

Isabel sighed and looked up. “Aed, if you’re bored, why don’t you go outside and run around?”

He slouched into a chair. “No, I will not leave you alone.”

Isabel smiled, but it was not a kind expression and her fangs were down slightly. “You’re distracting me. Go away.”

Aed crossed his arms. “No.”

Isabel rolled her eyes and went back to the machine. “I watched you stand motionless for hours while we were in Tara. Why are you so twitchy now?”

He shrugged. “Normally I run through battle scenarios in my head while on guard.”

“Why don’t you do that now?”

“I don’t have my sword. If anyone were to attack us, I’d have to push over one of these shelves. I estimate they weigh close to six hundred pounds—enough to keep a human attacker on the ground, and maybe enough to crush their skull. Battle over.”

“So you’re bored because it would be too easy to win a fight in here?”

“Yes.”

Isabel giggled. “As annoying as you are right now, I like seeing the real Aed.”

“I’m always the real Aed.” Sometimes she made no sense.

“No, sometimes you’re locked away inside that warrior-guard persona you wear the same way you wear your armor.”

Aed blinked in surprise. Was she right? Did he hide his true self under the label of Fenian? His place in the Fianna defined him—it always had. But he felt different when he was with Isabel.

“When I am with you, I feel…freer.” Aed wasn’t sure if that was the right way to say it.

“Then I’m glad, because—” Isabel stopped mid-sentence. Her finger moved slightly on the dial of the microfiche. “Aed, listen to this. It’s an old church bulletin.” There was excitement in her voice.

She cleared her throat and then started reading. “‘Edith Jameson, a member of the Queen Alexandra’s Imperial Military Nursing Service Reserve, vanished in a most peculiar manner on the twenty-fifth day of September 23, 1914.’ Late September in the human calendar is around the autumnal equinox.”

“A time when it is easier to cross between here and Fae.”

“Exactly. Here’s the rest. ‘Miss Jameson, daughter of Irish parents, grew up in St. Philip’s Orphanage in Kensington and found peace through serving others as a nurse. Her disappearance from the grounds of Brompton Oratory at nine-thirty in the evening was most strange. One parishioner claims that Miss Jameson was drawn through a doorway of divine white light. We pray for her safe return, as her skills and charity will be of great service in this troubling time.’”

“What does that mean?’

“In September 1914, when she disappeared, England had just declared war. If she was a nurse, they would have needed her. Read it for yourself.”

Isabel rose so Aed could take her place, peering into the machine at a lighted image. The small block of text she’d read was under a picture of a dark-haired woman with a white cap on her head. It was the same photo they’d found in several newspaper stories that mentioned Edith’s disappearance.

Aed sat back. “White light—a portal to Fae.” He covered his face with his hands. “She’s a changeling.”

“I’m sorry, Aed.”

“The place she was taken from, can we go there?”

“Brompton Oratory? Yes, it’s in London. Let me get copies of everything we’ve found and then we’ll catch an afternoon train back to London.”

Aed rolled his shoulders and forced himself to be patient as Isabel talked to the humans, made copies and then sat at a desk and did something with a small box she stuck into the side of the “computer.” By the time they were back on the train, a cold weight had settled over him. Whoever was responsible for kidnapping the human woman Edith Jameson had broken the law and banished one of the Tuatha de to a cruel fate in the human realm. They would pay for their crimes.

Isabel took his hand, and he squeezed her cold fingers. He’d never thought to love someone the way he loved her, but like the songs of doomed love he’d heard growing up, Aed had the sinking feeling that no matter how much they might want it there was no happy ending for a Vampire Sage and a Fenian of the Tuatha de Danaan.

B
rompton Oratory was haunted. Not haunted in the way humans might think—souls of the deceased did not linger here, but the emotions of thousands of humans clung to the massive stones of the large neoclassical building. The accumulated hope and grief of hundreds of years stained the ground around them and seeped from the foundation, a grim reminder that though life was fragile, desire and need were powerful forces that survived the death of the body.

Aed moved slowly, each step deliberate and measured. His hands were raised slightly, fingers spread, as they circled the outside of the massive building. Their discovery in the National Archives had changed him. She treasured the brief glimpse she’d had into his heart—that of the restless, playful boy locked inside the warrior. Part of her wished she hadn’t said anything, that she’d kept her discovery to herself so he would not have to bear the weight of this terrible thing.

But he had his duty, just as she had hers.

The sun had set while they took the Underground from Waterloo to Kensington, and what little light had filtered through the cloud cover was gone, the sky a charcoal-colored dome above them. Cars whizzed by on the street. A nearby streetlamp was partially obscured by the branches of a yew tree, and the gentle wind swayed it just enough to make the patches of light dance.

Aed stopped and ran his hand over a small commemorative plaque on the wall. There were many such plaques along the side of the building. After a moment he dropped his hand and kept walking, stopping again at the corner. He knelt, examining the rough-hewn foundation block. Isabel followed, looking to see what had caught his attention. The stone was badly pitted and worn, seeming older and less refined than the one next to it. He pointed at something, and Isabel bent to see a small cross carving near the center. But the cross was not the traditional shape used by Christianity—the vertical and horizontal pieces were of equal length.

Aed laid both hands on the rock and began to whisper.

Light poured out of the cross carving. The air around Aed crackled. Isabel’s heart stuttered—she was no longer human and hadn’t been for a long time, but Aed truly was “other.” He was magic in a way she would never be, connected to something greater than she could even imagine.

And he loved her.

Like a moth to a flame, Isabel went to him, kneeling in the uneven grass and brushing her fingers through the halo of light that surrounded him.

She tasted the sweet juice of ripe summer fruit, smelled roses and growing grass and the earth after rain. Her skin prickled with the warm touch of sunlight.

Scared, she pulled back, searching the sky for the deadly sun, but it was still night.

She was once more struck by his otherness, that feeling immediately followed by a desperate need to touch him, as if to assure herself that even if she could never understand him, she could still love him. Isabel licked her lips, the sweetness of fruit lingering there. The tastes and scents and feelings weren’t real—they were coming from Aed. It was as if her body was translating his magic, his power, into something she could make sense of.

Aed pulled back from the foundation stone, and the light faded. Isabel stroked his arm, urging him to turn. His expression went from grim to concerned when he looked at her.

“Isabel?”

“I forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“Who you are. What you are. In the end, no matter what I make of myself, I will never really understand you.”

“Understand me?” Aed gathered her in his arms. “I don’t know why you look so frightened, but I will protect you from whatever it is.”

Isabel smiled as his big body sheltered and warmed hers, but it was a sad smile.

Aed kissed the top of her head. “I have to return to Fae.”

“Why? What was that light?”

“The remnants of a portal.”

“In the foundation of a Catholic church?”

“This place has roots older than that of the new Christian religion. That cross is a symbol of the division of the world into four parts. It was carved long before the religion of this church was formed.”

“So Edith was taken to Tara through a portal. This portal.”

“No, not Tara. To Aran.”

“Aran?” Isabel hadn’t heard much about that kingdom of the Tuatha de Danaan.

Aed sighed heavily. “Yes, and that makes this more complex. Aran has long been known as a place where our darkest secrets lie. It would be dangerous for us to go there.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re not going there.”

“We’re not?”

“No. Wherever this portal went, the problem is now in Tara. I’m going to call the plane.”

Aed frowned. “Is there no portal in London?”

Isabel looked at her phone. “You promised to give me time to warn the Vampire. We’ll go to Bucharest, and I promise as soon as we’re there we’ll go back to Fae.”

“Isabel…”

“Your sword and armor are in Bucharest.”

Aed grunted. “Very well. We, uh, have to use the plane?”

“We do, but I’ll make the human I fed on sit up front so we can use the bed. I’ll fuck you all the way there.”

Aed rose then helped her up. “Do you need to eat again?”

“No, but if we’re going back to Fae, I’ll have a little blood, just in case.”

Isabel hailed a black cab and they piled into the back. Aed took up a huge amount of space and she ended up cuddled against him, his arm across her shoulders. Not that she minded.

His lips brushed her cheek. “You can have my blood.”

Isabel was hit with the vivid image of Aed naked on the bed, his body straining in pleasure as she licked a trickled of blood from his neck while she rode his rock-hard cock. Her nipples pebbled inside her bra.

“I want that more than I can say…but I can’t. It’s forbidden.”

“I swear to you I would never tell.”

Isabel longed to say yes, but she shook her head. “I would not break the Accords, even in secret. But if I do feed, I’m going need you naked and ready for me the instant I’m done.”