Carnal Magic: The Wraith Accords, Book 1 (12 page)

Steeling herself, Isabel pulled her hair back into a ponytail, tucked a knife into her sleeve, then went out to face Aed.

Aed’s arm twitched and he fought the urge to draw his sword. He’d never been in the Vampire city before and it was stranger than he could have imagined. The buildings seemed stunted compared to the towers of Tara. The structures were stone and covered in heavy panels of metal, almost as if the buildings wore armor. There were no windows, no courtyards and seemingly no doors. Everything was very square.

A large domed structure covered the circular court where the road dead-ended, and the shadows under the dome seemed sinister. His night vision was good, his senses highly trained, but he feared that was not enough when dealing with the Vampire. He had no idea how many of Isabel’s people could be hiding in the shadows. The whole city seemed squat and dark, like a great lizard hiding in the shadows of a rock.

He was nearly to the dome when he heard something behind him.

Aed spun, drawing his sword as he moved.

A long figure stood in the center of the road, the moonlight at her back, casting her face in shadow. He knew it was a woman from the shape of her body in the skintight black clothes. She stood with feet spread, one hip cocked, arms akimbo.

Aed raised the tip of his sword, gaze narrowed. She shifted her weight to the other leg.

The movement was small, but enough that Aed recognized her.

“Isabel?”

The sleek figure before him reminded him more of Cat Sith than the lush, refined beauty who’d fled from Tara only hours ago.

“Didn’t recognize me?”

Aed sheathed his sword, letting his gaze travel the length of her body.

“I, uh, like those…garments.”

There was a beat of silence, then Isabel laughed. It was not the cruel, dark laughter he’d heard in the servant’s chambers, but a true laugh.

He walked toward her, only to stop when she held up a hand. “What are you doing here, Aed?”

“I’ve come to protect you.”

“You mean take me prisoner.”

“No. I was charged with protecting you, and I will.”

She made a considering noise. “And what changed?”

“What do you mean?”

“I needed protection when I was falsely accused of murder. You did not protect me then. You helped them convict me.”

“I answered my prince’s questions, nothing more.”

“Oh, I see. That’s how you’ll justify it. Or maybe you think I killed that poor thing.”

“No, I do not.”

The silence was pregnant, seeming to last hours, though it couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds.

“I saw it in your face.” Isabel’s tone was measured and cool—the tone she’d used when speaking to the royal family. Gone was the more honest speech she’d used with him. “You knew I was innocent, and yet you didn’t speak in my defense.”

Aed’s stomach tightened—she was right, and he didn’t like it. “I was about to. I thought Cairbe could see your innocence, that nothing would come of the accusations.”

She shook her head. “Go back to Tara, Aed. You are…you are a good man, and a loyal warrior.”

Isabel turned her back on him.

In three long strides Aed was behind her. He grabbed her elbows, pulling her back against him. He hadn’t meant to, but the urge was too strong. His blood hummed with need.

“I am loyal to the Tuatha de…and I fear that Prince Cairbe and Lord Fionnin’s actions are not in the best interest of my people.”

Isabel shivered, and Aed wished he were not wearing armor, that he could feel her reaction against his bare flesh. He wished he were the only man who could make her react like this, that he were the only man she wanted, but he knew that could never be.

Yet, he didn’t love her any less.

“I am glad you can see the truth.” She pulled against his grip. “But I do not trust you.”

“Why not?”

Her gaze searched his face, but she didn’t respond.

“I’m here to protect you.” The words seemed silly when he saw her now, all sleek muscles and curves.

“Really? And how far are you willing to go to protect me?”

“As far as I must.”

Isabel raised a brow. “Then you’ll come with me?”

“Where?” Aed considered the options—maybe she’d go to Lir, to try and form an alliance with the king there. If she were trying to salvage the Accords, that would be a logical move. She’d be better served to seek an audience at the Hall of Allen, but Aed wouldn’t suggest that. The idea of Isabel at the Hall of Allen was…terrifying. And she could not, under any circumstances, be allowed to go to Aran.

“I’m going home.”

Aed blinked. “Home? To…”

“To Bucharest—to the human world.” Isabel jerked her arms free of his hold.

Aed was left standing in the middle of the road, blinking. Somehow it had never occurred to him that if he came after her he’d have to go with her to the mortal realm. She stopped beside a decorated panel of metal set into the side of one of the buildings that bordered the road. She laid her hand against the wall and the panel opened.

It seemed Tara was not the only place with secret doors.

“Coming?”

Reminding himself that he was a Fenian and therefore not afraid of anything, including humans, Aed mac Goll followed the vampire.

It was mean-spirited of Isabel to enjoy Aed’s wide-eyed nervousness. The voiceprint-controlled door hadn’t shocked him, but the retinal scanner had.

Now he was staring at the portal.

She wanted to reach up and touch his cheek, kiss him to ease his nerves, but she would not. Aed’s presence was highly suspect. Half a day ago she might have foolishly thought that he really was there to protect her—her knight come to her rescue. Someone must have ordered him to spy on her. Better to keep her eye on him than send him away.

“I’ll go first and let them know I’m bringing you with me.”

Isabel took a step, but Aed stopped her. “Is it safe?”

“For you? I would think so. The Tuatha de created the portals.”

He frowned at the column of light. “Not for me. For you.”

Isabel’s treacherous heart clenched at his show of concern. “I’ve used this plenty of times before.”

“Perhaps I should go first.”

“A large stranger wearing armor and carrying a sword suddenly appearing in the heart of the Cabal would not be a good thing.”

He nodded slowly. “How long should I wait?”

“I’ll wave you through. You’ll be able to see me, same way you can see that chair.”

This time Isabel couldn’t stop herself from touching his cheek. Aed’s gaze snapped to her, and there was such longing and heartbreak in his eyes that she pulled her hand back. Whatever had been between them was over.

Isabel stepped into the portal, passing through the wall of energy into Bucharest. For a moment the world spun, her vision nothing but while light. In the next second she was through, her head throbbing as her body adjusted. The air in the human world was thinner, gravity stronger.

Once she had her bearings, she leaned out the door, put her fingers in her mouth and let out a sharp whistle.

“I’m bringing one of the Tuatha de Danaan through!” The wood-paneled hall of the massive mansion was empty, but at her whistle several people poked their heads out of various doors. Someone took off running, yelling for the Duke.

It was an inelegant warning, but the best she could do on short notice.

Turning back to the portal, Isabel motioned for Aed to come through.

C
hapter Eleven

A
ed watched Isabel—saw her step into the light, then out the other side. She stuck her head out the doorway of the room he could see, then she turned and motioned him forward. He teetered in place, caught between the fear of passing through the portal and leaving his home and the desire to go to Isabel, to see where she was from.

She beckoned him again. Steeling his resolve, Aed stepped into the column of translucent light. Power crackled around him, his skin tingling. This was powerful magic, concentrated into a small space. He took a breath, drinking it in.

With the next step he was on the other side.

The tip of his still-drawn sword hit the floor as if pulled by a magnet. His whole body sagged. Pressure at the back of his head made his brain throb.

Isabel grabbed him, slipping her arms around him. “You might need a minute to adjust.”

His armor seemed to have doubled in weight, and all he could do was nod to acknowledge her words. He realized the pressure in the base of his skull was the enchantments and wards he habitually used to protect his mind and increase his ability to sense dangers, the same spells he’d dropped the morning he nearly killed Isabel.

“Aed, you’re pale. Take a deep breath.”

The harder he fought to keep the wards in place the more his head hurt. Aed couldn’t stand it any longer. With a grunt he released the spells. The pain in his head vanished, though he still felt sick.

Footsteps heralded the arrival of a new person. “Is it my birthday? The winter solstice? This is quite a present.”

Aed forced himself upright at the sound of a stranger’s voice. He pushed Isabel behind him, saying a quick prayer to Danu that his body would obey if he had to defend Isabel.

“Is he
protecting
you? How do you always get the good assignments?” The speaker was a tall, slim woman with dark skin. She had very short hair, and her eyes and teeth seemed very white in contrast to her flesh.

“Hi, Morowa.” Isabel slid out from behind him, reversing their positions so she was in front. “He’s one of the Tuatha de.”

The dark woman leaned to the side to get an unobstructed view, her smile showing off her fangs. Aed held his shoulders back, letting her look, hoping his appearance did honor to the Fianna.

“Of course he’s off limits.” Morowa shook her head.

“It’s his first time.”

“Using a portal?”

“No, in the human world.”

“Oh.” The other woman lost the wide smile. “You better get him to a bed.”

“Exactly. Can you clear the way?”

“Of course, my Sage.” Morowa bowed deeply, then backed out the door.

Aed was confused by their exchange, but despite relief from the headache, he felt worse with each breath, not better.

“Can you sheathe your sword?” Isabel asked.

Aed’s hands shook, but he managed it with Isabel’s help. She pulled one of his arms across her shoulders, put a hand on his waist and then guided him out the door. Aed tried to note his surroundings—the gleaming dark wood floors, partially covered by rugs in rich jewel tones, wood paneling on the lower parts of the walls with gold and cream paper above—but his energy was focused on trying not to throw up. He hadn’t thrown up since he was a child.

Isabel’s strength was put to the test as she hauled him down the wide, stately hallway, so unlike the cold stone of Tara. They turned a few times, passing countless closed doors, before Morowa motioned them into a room. Aed nearly wept when he saw the bed.

“Morowa, hold him up while I get him out of his armor.”

The dark-skinned woman took his hands, placing them on her shoulders. Aed tried to pull away, but the woman only laughed. “Don’t worry, big man, I can smell Isabel on you. I won’t poach.”

“Speak French. He doesn’t understand Romanian.”

Aed wanted to say that he had understood the woman—not every word, but enough.

Bit by bit Isabel stripped him of his armor. The relief when it was off was immense. Together the women maneuvered him onto the bed. Once he was lying on his back, Morowa left, closing the chamber door.

The last thing he saw before sleep claimed him was Isabel throwing open floor-to-ceiling drapes. Late afternoon sunlight filled the room, bathing her in gold.

“
You’re alive.”

Isabel heard the words the moment before she was captured by Aed’s strong arms. He stared down at her, an emotion she didn’t recognize burning in his eyes. Before she could ask what he was talking about, his lips covered hers. He kissed her almost desperately.

Caged by his arms, held in place by his kiss, there was no escape. Isabel was overwhelmed, consumed. His body was warm and hard against hers, his need battering at her, making it difficult—no, impossible—to remember that she couldn’t trust him. That her feelings for him were dangerous.

Pulling one arm free of his hold, she cupped his cheek, gentling him. His hold relaxed and she was able to wrap both arms around his neck. She changed the angle of the kiss, sucking gently on the tip of his tongue. That was enough to have arousal pooling in her belly and her fangs descending. She tried to pull back, but he didn’t let her.

Aed caught her lower lip with his teeth, sucking on it, then drew his head back slowly so his teeth scraped over her throbbing flesh.

Their gazes met, their panting breaths mingled.

Isabel shoved back, the movement fast enough that she caught Aed by surprise. He took a half step in retreat, brows beetling as he turned his head away.

Isabel wiped her lips, then forced herself to laugh as if that kiss hadn’t meant anything.

“I guess you’re feeling better.”

Aed folded his arms across his chest, the muscles of his upper body bulging. “I thought you…I thought you died.”

Isabel frowned, more than a little confused. It had only been a few hours since she’d left him sleeping.

“Before I closed my eyes I saw you standing in the sun.” There was a hollowness to his voice.

Isabel’s heart melted. She was a fool. “I’m fine, Aed.” She took his hand, drawing him to the glass balcony doors of his room. “Here, feel that?” She placed his hand against the glass.

He frowned. “It’s rough.”

“UV film.”

“What is ‘UV film’?” He enunciated carefully, his accent delightful.

“It’s a coating for the glass that filters out part of the sunlight—the part that hurts us the most. Young vampires have to avoid all sun, but I can stand it for a few minutes.”

He ran his hand over the door glass. “It’s magic?”

“Human technology.”

“If you have this why would you need help from the Tuatha de?”

“This is new technology, and it has to be very carefully installed. Not all human glass has it, and we still can’t go outside.” She smiled and threw open the doors. “Unless it’s night.”

Aed followed her onto the marble balcony. Isabel took a deep breath, tasting the human city on the air. Beside her Aed rested his hands on the carved rail, staring out over the lights of Bucharest.

The Cabal’s mansion sat atop a small rise, just high enough that they had a lovely view of the oldest part of the city and the river. The mansion was in the neo-Romanian style and though barely more than one-hundred years old was one of the few structures that had survived Romania’s Communist period, which had seen the destruction of many beautiful buildings to make way for massive apartment complexes. A wide lawn stretched before them, and a twenty-foot stone fence with state-of-the-art security sensors and cameras separated them from the city beyond. The land was worth untold millions, the space unlike anything else in the city.

“There are so many lights.” Aed tipped his head back. “Not many stars.”

“The stars are there. The lights hide them.”

“How many humans are there?” Aed jerked his head at the cityscape.

“About two million in the city limits.”

“Two
million
?” Aed shook his head. “So many.”

“And that’s just here, in this city. Bucharest is not even a large or very important human city.”

“If it’s not important, why do you live here?”

Isabel rested her hip on the rail. Aed was no fool—his questions were to the point, driving toward the heart of each issue.

“Long ago Duke Drakul was a king in this land. Human events cause the landscape of the world to transform. Bucharest’s power and influence changes all the time. It is not important now but once was, and will be again.”

“Tara…Tara is as it ever was.” Aed frowned. “But I know the human place called Tara, where the kings of Ireland sat, is no longer the seat of power.”

Isabel debated telling him that the Hill of Tara in Ireland was just a hill—whatever structures had been there lost long ago. Maybe she’d leave that for a later conversation.

His gaze swept over the lights, his expression a mixture of fascination and trepidation. She knew the feeling well—it was how she’d felt when she first saw the gates of Tara and the elegant palace perched atop its sea-side cliff.

“Let’s go out.” The words left her mouth before she’d thought them all the way through.

Aed swiveled, his eyes wide. “Out…there?”

Pressing her lips together so she wouldn’t laugh, Isabel nodded.

Aed cleared his throat. “If you’re going, I will go too. I will protect you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “As much as I can. My powers are not working.”

“There isn’t magic here the way there is in Fae.”

“Perhaps that is why my wards and enchantments don’t work.”

“Whatever magic exists here won’t be what you’re used to. Give yourself time to adjust. Besides, if you can’t work magic, that means no one else can either.”

He seemed satisfied with that idea. “I will protect you as best I can.”

His reminder of their positions, and the duties that had bought them together, soured her mood, but Isabel wasn’t going to back down.

“Come on, let’s go get you ready for a night out in the human world.”

Aed’s gaze met hers, and all the things they were not saying to one another were there. Isabel turned away first. She wasn’t ready to talk to Aed about what had happened. She had a job to do, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted by the emotional pain Aed caused. She motioned for him to return to the bedroom. Aed took one step, then stopped and tentatively held out his arm.

Isabel told herself to ignore it, or to laugh and make a joke.

She did neither. Slipping her arm through his, Isabel clung to him, relishing the contact.

Aed’s expression was priceless. Isabel wished she had a camera. The big Tuatha de Danaan warrior was trying to hide his alarm, but his eyes were round as saucers and he kept folding and unfolding his arms while his feet were braced in a defensive stance.

All she’d said was that he needed some new clothes.

Ionel, the human house manager, stood next to her, examining Aed with an eye to both his potential threat and his clothing needs. His wife Tereza circled Aed with a tape measure, clucking her tongue. Tereza stepped back once she was done, seemingly unfazed by the stranger Isabel had brought into their midst. Tereza’s family, like Ionel’s, had served the Vampire for hundreds of years, and her uncle was house manager in Mexico City.

“Drake’s clothes would be the best fit.” Tereza rolled the tape measure around her fingers, her voice soft but firm.

Isabel’s lip curled. “I don’t want him wearing anything of Drake’s.”

Behind her, a man laughed. “And why not,
wife
?”

Isabel stiffened, her fangs lengthening in her mouth. Aed’s gaze met hers, and then his stance went from defensive to offensive. Boots thumped over the carpet and Tereza and Ionel both bowed.

“Drake. I thought you were in Asia.” Isabel turned, facing the new arrival.

The Judge of Bucharest looked like his father, the Duke. Drake was a bit taller and leaner, but the features were the same, though he had darker coloring—his skin a lovely shade of copper, his hair as black as her own.

He wore black leather pants, a pale gray silk shirt and a black vest. Though he faced her, Isabel knew his attention was really on Aed.

“And who is this you’ve brought to visit, wife?” He stressed the last word, this time speaking French instead of Romanian.

Isabel didn’t want to open her mouth. He’d see that her fangs were down, see that, even after all these years, he had the ability to piss her off with only a few words. Turning her back to Drake, she touched Ionel’s shoulder. “Would you get Aed some clothes, please?”

“Of course, my lady.” Ionel was careful to address her formally while in Drake’s presence.

Once the humans were gone Isabel had regained enough control to smile at Drake, her fangs safely retracted. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you, darling.” He smiled, but it was not a kind expression.

“I don’t want to play a game with you right now.” Isabel kept her voice low, but she knew he heard her. She was keenly aware of her position standing midway between Aed and Drake.

Drake’s gaze flickered to Aed, and then he leapt across the room, grabbing Isabel by the throat and slamming her into the wall. Before she could rip Drake’s stupid head off, Aed was on them, grasping Drake’s wrist and squeezing so hard Isabel heard bone crack. Drake released her, only to be flung across the room.

The air around Aed crackled, and in the next moment his armor, which had been sitting on a table, appeared on his body, his sword now clasped in his hand. Apparently there
was
magic in Bucharest.

Drake got to his feet, his lips pulled back and fangs out. He stared at his right arm.

Isabel ducked under Aed’s arm, trying to get between them, but he caught hold of her shoulder. “No, stay behind me.”

“You’re defending her…from
me
?” Drake tossed his head, his dark hair sliding right back over his brow.

“I am Aed mac Goll, warrior of the Fianna and assigned protector of Lady Isabel of the Vampire.” The words rang with authority and magic.

Drake laughed.

Isabel picked up the closest chair and flung it across the room. It shattered on impact with Drake’s body. It was not the most mature response, but Drake was infuriating.