Grave Sins

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Grave Sins Page 11

by Jenna Maclaine


  “Darius gave you up?”

  She laughed. “No,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eye. “MacLeod stole me. Khalid and Hashim came to his chamber one night and begged him to take me away. They told him that I would make him a fine queen. Darius sealed his own fate when he got greedy and sent me to MacLeod, ordering me to use my skills and my gift to find out everything I could about the king—his plans, his weaknesses, everything.”

  “Did you?” I asked when she paused and didn’t continue.

  She smiled and her eyes took on a dreamy, faraway look. I was happy that she was finally remembering something pleasant. She had the look of a woman in love, and it sat much better on her than the pain I had seen on her face until now.

  “I found out everything I needed to know,” she said. “I found out that he was a good man, a warrior of incredible skill, and a wise leader. I also found more pleasure in his bed in one night than I had experienced in my entire life. But Darius would not give me up; I was too valuable to him. For days his men watched us like hawks. MacLeod had only a handful of soldiers with him, not enough to take Darius’s army. When we finally made our move, Khalid and Hashim went west, MacLeod’s men went east, and MacLeod and I went north to Tangier. Darius’s men had to split up to search for us. We kept off the roads so we wouldn’t be spotted. When we couldn’t find shelter for the day, we buried ourselves in the sand so that we wouldn’t burn. Pray to whatever god you worship that you never have to know what that feels like. It was weeks of pure hell before we reached the port in Tangier.” She was quiet for a moment and then she said, “That’s why I love Edinburgh so much. It’s green, and it rains often, and I never have to feel the sand against my skin again.”

  “What happened to Khalid and Hashim? Did they follow you here?”

  “They went west, leading a portion of Darius’s men away from MacLeod and me. They made it to the eastern capital at Vienna—”

  “I thought the eastern capital was in Saint Petersburg?”

  “It was in Vienna when Drake was king. The new queen moved it to Saint Petersburg in the last century. They say she and Peter the Great were lovers, you know.”

  I chuckled inwardly. It still amused me how the older vampires threw around words like new and old. The “new” Queen of the Eastern Lands had sat on her throne since Drake had been deposed in the 1680s.

  “At any rate, Darius’s men caught up with them in Vienna. Khalid and Hashim assumed that MacLeod and I were either safe or recaptured and there was no reason to continue leading the soldiers on a wild goose chase. They let the soldiers catch up with them in a field outside of town. They fought, and Khalid and Hashim killed them all. Drake heard of this and whatever else he is, he is a … practical man. He had a new kingdom to establish and he is a diplomat, not a warrior. He offered Khalid and Hashim Darius’s head in exchange for two hundred years of service.”

  “Did they take the offer?”

  “Oh, yes. It was a small price to pay for vengeance.”

  “But how did he do it? If Drake’s kingdom was so young, how did he muster enough soldiers to take Darius’s palace? I’m assuming such a place would be nearly impregnable.”

  She smiled wickedly. “Oh, it is. Drake, as I said, is a very practical man. Why send an army when one soldier will do?”

  “One soldier?”

  “The palace may not have had weaknesses, but Darius certainly did. Alecto was young then and very eager to prove herself to her new king.”

  I threw back my head and laughed. Alecto was one of three sisters, the Furies, who were The Righteous’s counterpart in the eastern kingdom. “So she killed him?”

  “Yes, and sent his ashes to me with her compliments.”

  I fell silent, thinking. Not only had Khalid and Hashim grown up with Marrakesh as a mother-figure, they had escaped being prisoners of one master just to turn around and indenture themselves to another, all to keep her safe.

  “Understanding now your … history,” I said softly, “I have to wonder why you would take the name Marrakesh?”

  “I did it so that I would never forget where I came from. So that I would never get pampered and comfortable with my position here and forget that I had once been a slave.”

  “I would think that would be something you would want to put behind you and try to forget,” I pointed out.

  She shook her head. “No, never. As long as I remember the pain, I’ll never allow it to happen again. There is nothing more important than the power to control your own destiny.” She took a ragged breath and leaned forward. “That’s why you have to find whoever is doing this to me. I will not go willingly into another prison, Cin. I’d rather be staked than locked away in the bowels of Castle Tara. I know they tell you that the old ones sometimes go mad. They may even point to Drake when they say it. But Drake went mad when the love of his life died. I am here with my lover. I love my life, Cin, and I am happy. If three hundred years with Darius didn’t break me, I can assure you that I didn’t just wake up crazy one day, with no rhyme or reason for it. Someone is doing this to me. Do you believe that?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “And will you help me?”

  “Yes, I’ll help you,” I said. “But you have to help yourself as well. You have an awesome weapon at your disposal, Marrakesh. Use it. I may believe that MacLeod and Khalid and Hashim are devoted to you, but the others have their doubts. If you can positively clear everyone in this household, then we can move on and look elsewhere. The only other option is to remove you from the city in order to flush out whoever is doing this.”

  She shook her head. “A queen does not abandon her capital in a time of war. It will be seen as a sign of weakness.”

  “Marrakesh, we have no leads. We don’t even have any solid theories about who could be behind this.”

  “Other than those in my household, you mean.” I didn’t reply. I just watched her as she thought it through. Finally, she nodded. “I’ll do it, but only if they come to me willingly. I will not have such a thing commanded of them, do you understand?”

  “I understand,” I said. “I’ll go tell MacLeod now.”

  “Cin,” she said as I reached the door. “Thank you.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t thank me yet. I have a feeling this is going to get worse before it gets better.”

  Chapter 17

  I left the room and ran directly into MacLeod’s rather impressive chest.

  “Umph,” I grunted and stepped around him. “Isn’t it a little unseemly for a king to be hovering in the hall, eavesdropping?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you understand now why she is the way she is? Why our lives run as they do?”

  I leaned back against the wall. “She has an understandable need to be in control of everything around her, because she wasn’t in control of anything for so very long.”

  “Yes, but it’s more than that,” he said. “I made her a queen, and I stand in the background because twice in her life she has lost a husband and lost her place in the world because of it. I love her too much to see that happen to her again. She is my enforcer because if something should happen to her, regardless of what you might think, I would still be king. If, however, something should happen to me, then I need her to be strong enough to hold this kingdom without me.”

  My heart melted just a little. “Then help me now,” I said. “She’s agreed to use her gift to rule out anyone in this house as a suspect.”

  He looked surprised, and then he nodded. “All right.”

  “Khalid and Hashim look guilty. Devlin and the others are never going to believe that they’re not involved without proof. This is the fastest way I know to get it and give us the freedom to look elsewhere. Marrakesh refuses to force anyone to submit to this, so I don’t care what you have to do but you make sure they come willingly, do you understand?”

  He nodded. “It will be done.”

  Chapter 18

  True to his word, MacLeod gat
hered everyone in his chamber. Marrakesh was dressed in a stunning gown of green silk that perfectly matched her eyes—eyes that kept darting nervously over at both of her lieutenants. I watched them as well, to make sure that they at least appeared to be here of their own free will. Khalid looked resigned and as stoic as a statue. Hashim looked like he might become violently ill at any moment. Bel just looked confused, as usual. Devlin had decided that Marrakesh should touch Bel also. Since she had been living in the house for several months, Bel may have seen or heard any number of things that may not seem out of the ordinary to her, but might to the queen.

  “Shall we begin?” I asked.

  “Is this really necessary?” Hashim asked, and the tension between his eyes said that the question meant more to him than his emotionless tone implied.

  Drake came up and put his hand on the Arab’s shoulder. “I’m afraid it is, old friend.”

  Hashim nodded once and then glared at me as if it was all my fault, which I suppose it was.

  “Will it hurt?” Bel asked, her bottom lip trembling charmingly.

  “No, it shouldn’t,” Marrakesh assured her. “I will start with the king and perhaps that will put everyone at ease.”

  She took off her gloves, which were exactly the same shade of green as her gown, and laid them over the back of the Roman couch. Without any direction everyone in the room seemed to have separated themselves into two lines. Drake, Devlin, Justine, Michael, and I stood facing the others, waiting. I frowned and moved around to Michael’s other side, but that position was no better. From where I was standing I wouldn’t be able to see Marrakesh’s face. I wanted to gauge her reaction as she read each of them, so, drawing as little attention to myself as possible, I moved over to MacLeod’s desk and leaned against it. This was much better. From here her back was no longer to me, and I could see both of them in profile.

  I watched as she approached MacLeod and held her hands out, palms up. He smiled down at her and placed his hands in hers. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. I expected to feel something similar to what I sensed when another witch called her power, but, whatever the source of Marrakesh’s gift was, it was not the same as mine. There was a vibration in the air, almost like that of an approaching storm, but nothing that smacked of a witch’s magic.

  I don’t know what Marrakesh saw or felt, but when she opened her eyes she smiled up at her husband and leaned up to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

  “I love you,” she whispered and I smiled with her.

  When she took her hands from MacLeod’s, the vibration stopped. She moved to Khalid next.

  “Do you do this willingly?” she asked.

  He looked down at her for a moment, then nodded gravely. She held her hands out, and his came up to hover reluctantly just above hers. I held my breath, hoping that he wouldn’t back out at the last moment and ruin everything. When Marrakesh took a step back before he touched her hands. I almost cursed aloud in frustration. Had his hesitation made her pull back? I watched as she frowned and put her hands to her head. She took another step, shaking her head. MacLeod moved toward her with his hand out, but before he could reach her, the queen’s head snapped up and she lunged toward Khalid. The big man staggered backward in fear, careening into the couch behind him. Before anyone could get over their shock and react, Marrakesh pulled Khalid’s scimitar from the scabbard at his waist. She swung the blade around in a wide arc, forcing MacLeod to jump back out of her reach. And then she turned and looked directly at me.

  Madness filled her eyes as she screamed and ran at me, the scimitar raised in her right hand. I scurried around the desk, partly from instinct and partly because putting the big piece of furniture between us would give me the precious seconds I needed to call my magic. MacLeod was faster, though, and grabbed her around the waist, swinging her off her feet. The scimitar fell from her hands, clattering across the wooden floor. The queen screamed her frustration and started raking her nails across her husband’s arms in an effort to get free. Khalid had regained his composure and intervened, grabbing her wrists. Marrakesh was screaming and thrashing as MacLeod swung her around to pin her between himself and the back of the couch.

  “The gloves!” he shouted. “Get the gloves on her!”

  A look of horror crossed Drake’s face and he ran to help, snatching the gloves off the back of the couch. What I had seen of Marrakesh’s gift had seemed rather benign, but it was apparent from the look on Drake’s face that it wasn’t always so. I was betting that he knew her well enough to know that, in this state, her ability could cause some serious damage. Drake and Khalid were wrestling her into the gloves while Bel cowered behind Hashim. It was only then that I noticed that sometime during the fray Michael had put himself between me and the queen, his sword drawn. Devlin and Justine stood in front of him. With the immediate threat to my continued health and well-being gone, I began to notice other things as well—like the smell of sulfur and wormwood. I spun around and stared at the wall behind MacLeod’s desk. That horrible stench seemed to be emanating from it. I placed my hand on the paneling.

  Whoever he was, he was in the townhouse next door, spinning spells to make the queen mad before she found out anything that would incriminate him or his accomplice.

  “He’s here!” I shouted and moved around Michael, grabbing his shirtsleeve. “Come on, he’s here!”

  I practically dragged Michael from the room. He, of course, had no idea what I was talking about or where we were going, but he followed me anyway. As we raced down the stairs, Devlin and Justine on our heels, I explained. “MacLeod neglected to tell us that the two townhouses that flank this one are used as the residences of the court. He didn’t seem to think it was important since they’re empty and locked.”

  We flew out the front door and raced up the steps of the townhouse next door. Devlin put his shoulder into the door. It cracked and groaned, but held fast.

  “MacLeod’s an ass,” he grunted, backing up to try again.

  I put my hand on his chest and held him back. “No, he just didn’t realize that any witch worth her magic can do this.”

  I put my hand on the lock. My blood was racing with the excitement that we might just catch this treasonous bastard, and my magic flew into the lock with such force that not only did the lock give, but the whole door flew inward and banged against the wall like a crack of lightning. Well, so much for stealth.

  Devlin and Michael took the stairs two at a time, weapons drawn. I followed behind. I had no blade but I did have my magic, and I was hoping that was enough. Justine was at my back with more weaponry at hand than I would have thought she could hide under that dress. The room we were looking for would be at the end of the hall on the third floor. I was betting it would be a mirror image of MacLeod’s suite.

  Devlin kicked the door open and we all spilled into the room with a good deal less caution than I would have advised, if I hadn’t been so flush with the excitement that we might actually catch this fiend in the act. The smell of sulfur and wormwood choked me. It was a large suite, much like MacLeod’s, but it was empty. I spun around, and Justine was so close behind me that the tip of her sword nearly sliced open my shirt.

  “Careful!” I said, clutching my breasts and scowling at her.

  She gave me a look and took a step back.

  “Damn it all to hell!” Devlin shouted in frustration. He wrenched open the doors of the great wardrobe, which stood against the wall opposite the foot of the bed. There were clothes in it but little else. Growling, he stalked from the room, throwing open doors left and right as he moved down the hall.

  “Go with him and help him search the house,” I said.

  Justine nodded and walked out, but Michael stayed by my side.

  “If you think I’m going to leave you alone in here, you’re addled.”

  I smiled at his concern, especially since he had been so very upset with me earlier in the night. “All right,” I said, “but stay very still and let me do this.”

/>   He nodded and stepped back.

  I closed my eyes and reached out with my senses and my magic. I could hear three sets of footsteps coming up the stairs. I heard Devlin speak to Drake and Hashim. Bel was chirping away about something. They were telling Devlin that none of them had seen anyone come out of the house after we’d gone in. I tuned them out and turned my attention back to this room. I held my hands up in front of me, pushing my magic out, feeling it form a circle around me like a mist of sparkling golden light. I moved through the room, hoping that the magic would find something that it liked, something equally magical that the wizard, or whatever he was, had used to cast his spells. Magic was like that sometimes, as if it were a living thing that sensed a kindred spirit. It moved over Michael, settling around him, calm and still. My magic reacted that way to the undead. Humans pulsed with energy and vitality, like the beating of a heart. Vampires gave off the glassy stillness of a perfectly peaceful lake under the moonlight. I walked around him like a sleepwalker, still hoping that my magic would pick up on anything that would give us a clue as to what had been wrought here, but I wasn’t feeling anything out of the ordinary. That changed when I got to the door. There was something there, something I had never felt before.

  My magic spilled outward in a rush, moving like curious fingers over a foreign object. I opened my eyes and I could see it surrounding something human-sized—except there was nothing there. It settled around the nothing, but whatever it was, it was neither human nor vampire. It seemed to have the characteristics of both. I hadn’t seen anything like it since I was human. It reminded me of the shimmering of the horizon on a hot day, dead and living, warm and still. The shape moved quickly toward the door, and I pulled my magic back.

  “What the hell was that?” Michael breathed.

  I sank down in the nearest chair, its holland covers flying up in a soft poof. “I don’t think MacLeod needs a slayer,” I said. “I think he needs a priest.”

  Chapter 19

 

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