Claire Delacroix (8 page)

Aurelia toyed with the bed curtains. “Connections?”

“Sure! A woman from a prestigious family, you know, one with property that Baird could develop, or with an influential father. That’s the kind of wife he needs, not the daughter of some bank teller in Des Moines who only wants to spend his money as quickly as he can make it.”

“Des Moines?”

The priest grimaced. “It’s infinitely forgettable. I’m not surprised that you haven’t heard of it.” He wagged a warning finger at Aurelia. “But I’ll tell you one thing, they don’t talk like that in Des Moines.”

Aurelia kept her mouth shut, because she could not understand what he was talking about.

“She’s as fake as a three dollar bill. Watch the accent,” the priest hissed. “When she gets ticked off “ - he snapped his fingers - “ it’s midwest twang all over.”

The priest shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets, the very image of a discouraged man. “I can’t figure out why he can’t see that she’s not his type at all.” He sighed. “It’s Jessica all over again.”

And who was Bard’s type, to the priest’s mind?

A woman with a prestigious family. A woman with a powerful father. A woman with a property Bard wanted.

A woman just like Aurelia.

Knowing it had been done a thousand times before did not make the reality any easier to face. Aurelia’s heart trembled at the prospect of being wed to a deceitful murderer, a conqueror with an iron will and an enchanting kiss.

Against her volition.

And apparently against Bard’s. But this priest was powerful, that much Aurelia knew already. Bard had staged her reawakening to comply with the prophecy of her birth, evidently at the priest’s bidding - or at least, he had not fought the priest on this.

Was he already bowing to the priest’s scheme?

Bard wanted Dunhelm and at any cost, Aurelia knew that. And with her father missing, Bard could secure his ascendancy over Dunhelm by marrying the former king’s daughter.

Aurelia swallowed and let the drape slide through her fingers. Her imagination supplied the image of Bard nude in this bed once more.

Except this time, his hand was on her own bare hip. Aurelia felt the strong imprint of his lips moving against hers, felt again the weight of his hands locked around her waist.

It was Bard’s fault that her thoughts were muddled, Aurelia concluded savagely. His kiss had confused her.

No. Liking his kiss had confused her.

Aurelia crushed the rich fabric in her hand. She hated that she had already been so readily manipulated. Would she be able to resist Bard’s charm if it was turned fully upon her? Or would her feminine weakness betray both her and her family?

She suddenly became aware that the silence between herself and the priest had stretched overly long, and rushed to fill it with the first thought that came to mind.

“My mother oft said that men do not marry their whores.” Aurelia heard a sharpness in her voice that she had not intended. “Even if they indulge them.”

The priest chuckled and watched her with twinkling eyes. “Why would a man buy the cow when he can have the milk for free, right?”

It was an apt parallel. Aurelia met the priest’s dancing gaze and was reminded again of her lost brother. Even knowing his intentions for her, Aurelia could not help but smile tentatively back.

He grinned and stuck out his hand. “Julian Preston. Call me Julian.”

Aurelia stared at his hand, then took it as that seemed to be his expectation. Julian squeezed her fingers, pumped her hand up and down twice, then released it.

A strange gesture indeed. Aurelia wondered what it meant.

“And you may call me Aurelia.”

“Instead of Princess?” Julian seemed to be struggling not to laugh. The similarity to Thord was most telling when his eyes danced and Aurelia, despite her determination not to like the priest, felt some sisterly affection dawn within her.

“Only in private, of course,” she advised him, much as she would have advised her brother with his short memory for such details. “In the hall, you will still have to use my title.” Aurelia frowned, unable to understand why this was so amusing to the priest.

Did they not have decent manners in Rome either?

“Well, make yourself at home.” Julian waved cheerfully and tossed his blessing square towards Aurelia.

She no sooner caught it than he was gone, leaving Aurelia alone in the chamber decorated by Bard’s whore. The door closed with a solid click that made her realize this chamber, regardless of its richness, was a prison, after all. And, as his prisoner, Aurelia was subject to the whim of Bard, son of Erc.

Whatever that might be.

* * *

Chapter Five

Aurelia waited a few moments, then surreptitiously checked the door. She fully expected it to be secured from the outside.

But it was unlocked.

To Aurelia’s further amazement, the corridor outside was empty. The distant sounds of hammering carried to her ears, but no guard was posted watchfully outside.

Ha! They must think her witless, after all! She propped open the door with her toe and slid Julian’s magic square into the slot, exactly as he had done.

Nothing happened.

But there had been a light when Julian did it. Perhaps she did not know the proper incantation. Who knew what Julian might have muttered under his breath, or whispered in his mind? She stepped out into the corridor, trying to examine the slot in better light.

The door closed with a resolute click.

Aurelia turned the handle, but the door was locked against her! She was trapped in the corridor, of all foolishness! What kind of malicious magic was this?

In desperation, Aurelia shoved Julian’s card into the slot once more, but this time, a red dot glowed thrice.

It was a sign. Three was a powerful number, that much was certain, and red, a color of protection for ages past.

It must be safe to enter the chamber once more.

Aurelia cautiously tried the handle again, and magically, the door was now unlocked. She darted inside, fingering the card, and marveled at Julian’s power. Aurelia fought to make sense of Julian giving her the ability to lock herself outside of the room and could not.

Perhaps his spell had twisted itself backwards. Such things happened when magic was wrought in haste.

Or perhaps Julian was less powerful than Aurelia had feared. Now that was an encouraging thought! Aurelia grinned with satisfaction and her mind worked furiously. What should she do? At any moment, Julian could repair his spell and trap her inside the chamber.

This might be her only opportunity to find her sire without observation.

Clearly, her father was either dead or imprisoned. And if Aurelia were in Bard’s place, intending to let Hekod be forgotten, where would she have imprisoned the deposed king? The answer was simple beyond all.

In the sea caves.

Aurelia clutched Julian’s magical talisman, scanned the corridor once more, then abandoned her room. She darted down the corridor in the opposite direction of the great reception hall. When Aurelia opened the last door at the end of the corridor, she found a flight of stairs markedly less ornate than those she and the priest had climbed.

No one was behind her. Aurelia lunged down the stairs. There was only one door at the bottom, red letters above it declaring: FIRE EXIT.

On the door itself, a sign read: For Emergency Exit Only. If Door Is Opened, Alarm Will Sound.

Aurelia hesitated, then frowned. Who would sound this alarm, if no one saw her open the door? She looked over her shoulder, but she was definitely alone.

Ha! More lies! Aurelia was developing a very low opinion of Bard’s household security. She shoved open the door and a shrill ringing suddenly filled her ears.

Oh no! Julian had laid a spell on the door!

Aurelia muttered something unladylike under her breath. Her heart thundering in her ears, she fled Bard’s hall as fast as she could. Hopefully there was no witchery left to discern her path.

* * *

Baird’s head snapped up from the travertine marble samples when the fire alarm went off. “Is this another test? I thought they were done yesterday.”

“They were,” the job foreman confirmed, then looked worried. “It might be a real fire, sir.”

The intensity of Baird’s response surprised him. He wouldn’t let Dunhelm burn under any terms. He scanned the hall anxiously but, to his relief, saw no flames.

“Well, better safe than sorry.” Baird’s tone was calmly authoritative despite his fears. People immediately turned to do his bidding. “Everybody outside - get all your team out - we’ll meet on the lawn in front of the main entrance and have a head count.”

“Yes, sir.”

Marissa looped her hand through Baird’s arm and her voice dropped to a throaty purr. “You’re so very decisive, darling! I just love a man who takes charge of things...”

“Marissa, there may really be a fire,” Baird interrupted tersely. “Why don’t you go outside with the others?”

“But it’s raining!” Marissa raised a meticulously manicured hand to her cheek. “My hair will be ruined!” She chuckled huskily and wrinkled her nose as she leaned closer. “Why don’t we just stay inside together, darling, and look for that pesky fire ourselves?” She walked her fingers up his arm. “We might start in my room.”

Fortunately, Julian darted down the stairs and across the room, his arrival saving Baird from making a reply. “Is there really a fire?” Julian eyed the departing workmen with concern.

“There might be. Where’s the princess?”

Julian shrugged. “In her room, I guess.” He glanced over his shoulder and coughed. “You know, fires can move through a building this size with remarkable speed, making our liability quite considerable. The greater weight of our insurance coverage, as you know, does not begin in earnest until the grand opening of the resort. We should think about getting everyone out as quickly as possible and minimizing our risk in this.”

“Oooh, Julian, darling, you don’t say?” Marissa batted her lashes at Baird. “We could be in dire peril at this very moment!”

Baird shook himself free, his mind on other concerns. The hall was emptying quickly, but Aurelia had made no appearance at the top of the stairs, despite the insistence of the alarm. What if she had fallen asleep? Or hadn’t heard the alarm?

Or didn’t know what it meant?

“I have to go check on Aurelia.”

“Fourth room on the left,” Julian supplied.

“But Baird, darling!” Marissa wailed. “You can’t abandon me here in the midst of this chaos!”

Baird looked pointedly around the nearly deserted foyer. It was far from a disorganized scene. He looked at Julian and that man winced, as though he guessed what Baird would say.

“Julian, could you make sure Marissa gets outside with the others? I’ll be right there. I just want to check that our princess isn’t left in her room.”

Marissa inhaled dangerously, but Baird was already striding away. He scrutinized the hall as he went, fearful that his renovation would be lost to flames even before it was done.

But he couldn’t catch even a hint of smoke in the air. There was no evidence of fire at all in the hall upstairs.

Baird knocked on the fourth door, but no one answered.

He knocked again, more insistently, but there was still no response. Baird leaned closer and listened.

There wasn’t a sound from inside. Baird knocked again, more forcefully this time.

Where was she?

When his fourth heavy knock brought no answer, Baird hauled his passkey from his pocket and opened the door.

Not only was there no sign of fire, there was no sign of the Princess Aurelia.

In fact, it was as though she had never even been in the room. A primal panic swept over Baird and a single thought echoed in his mind with startling clarity.

He had lost her again.

An odd sense of loss swept over him, one greater than anything Baird had ever felt before. He felt bereft, as though a part of himself had been torn away.

And he knew without a doubt that he had felt this way many times before.

Great. Baird shook his head savagely. Now she was making him nuts.

But Baird couldn’t completely dismiss his fear, even knowing it was irrational. What if something had happened to Aurelia? What if she was lost in the hotel and this wasn’t a false alarm?

Baird lunged for the stairs, fighting for his usual calm as the alarm rang insistently. He met Julian halfway down the stairs.

“The fourth room?” Baird demanded.

“Yeah. But one of the guys saw a woman leaving from the back fire exit.” Julian’s sober gaze locked with Baird’s. “Blond hair, wearing only a sweater. Looks like your princess set off the alarm when she ran away from here.”

Baird exhaled in a relieved rush and shoved one hand through his hair. “Where did she go?”

Julian shrugged. “He said she ran toward the sea.”

Baird caught his breath. One false step could send anyone plunging to their death. And it would be all too easy to slip in this weather.

Aurelia wasn’t safe, after all.

“I tell you, Baird, this woman is a lot of trouble and I really think you should reconsider the wisdom of your offer.” Julian coughed into his hand. “If anything happens to her, we could be found liable since you invited her to stay. Having her here as an unpaying guest clouds the assignment of responsibility ...”

Baird pushed past Julian and bolted down the stairs.

* * *

Aurelia raced along the uneven rocks, the path she had known now obscured. Her certainty that Bard had deliberately hidden this way grew with every moment - it could not have changed so drastically otherwise!

The wind whipped her hair around her face and the cold rain splashed on her face. Bard’s sweater was little protection against the bite of the cold, her feet were freezing, but she thought only of her sire.

Her heart twisted as she imagined him trapped in the wretched prison of a sea cell. Though Hekod was strong, he was no longer a young man - he could already have caught a deathly chill.