I was on my way to my room with a book of spells I had purchased in town when MacLeod hailed me from the doorway of his study.
“Miss Craven, a word, please?” he asked.
“Certainly, sire,” I agreed, fervently hoping he wasn’t planning to ask me yet more questions I didn’t know the answers to.
I was surprised to find Jacques Aubert seated in one of the leather chairs facing the king’s desk. We exchanged greetings, and the king resumed his seat while I occupied the chair next to Aubert.
“Jacques,” MacLeod said. “I think that perhaps Miss Craven and her companions might be of assistance in this matter.”
“I’m sure we would be happy to help,” I replied, and looked at Aubert questioningly. “What is it you need?”
“Normally I would not have to ask,” Aubert said, “but several of my Wardens are with the court at Darkness Castle and three others are … elsewhere tonight liberating six cases of whiskey for His Highness. If I thought this could wait until tomorrow night, I would gladly do so.”
“What is the problem?” I asked.
“Do you remember the night we first met? The group of ten vampires that Fritz came to warn me about?”
“Yes. I don’t speak German but Justine translated for me. She said you had a large group of vampires that had entered the city illegally.”
“Aye, well, we threw them out on their arses that night, but it seems that they’re back now, and they’ve brought friends.”
MacLeod tapped his letter opener absently on his desk. “They know we’re short of Wardens?”
“Aye, and rumors abound that the queen is either ill or dead.”
The click-click-click of the letter opener grew more rapid. “So they think they can come into my capital as they please, without fear of punishment?”
Aubert swallowed hard and glanced at me briefly before answering, “It would seem so, Your Highness. There are some who believe that the queen’s disappearance has weakened your hold on the city.”
“Then I will go with you,” MacLeod said.
Aubert’s eyes widened. “But … er, yes, of course, Your Highness.”
It was apparent from Aubert’s reaction that MacLeod did not often go out on such expeditions.
“Your Highness,” I said, “The Righteous and I can take care of this problem.”
MacLeod stood. He walked around the desk until he was so close that I had to look up into his dark eyes. “Someone reminded me recently that my people no longer fear me. I believe it is time I remedied that.”
I nodded gravely and waited until MacLeod had left the room and was out of earshot before I asked Aubert, “You looked nervous just now. Can he fight?”
Aubert glanced down the empty hall. “Aye, he fights like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
“So why the look?”
“Well, for all that His Highness generally stays out of a fray, he does love a good fight. The problem is that he throws himself into it with little consideration of what’s around him. He’s an old warrior, used to fighting armies on the field of battle, not skirmishing in the middle of his own city. The last time I took him on a raid was back in 1700.”
“And?” I asked.
Aubert shrugged. “He lit several vampires on fire and ended up burning Edinburgh from the Cowgate to the High Street.”
I stepped back and surveyed my reflection in the mirror, smiling. Now was the time to look like an assassin, and I’d certainly accomplished that. I had wonderful tailors and boot makers in London and Paris who happily overcharged me in exchange for their discretion and the marvelous men’s clothing they made for me. Tonight I wore a tight-fitting brown leather vest over a cream shirt. Wrist sheaths on both of my forearms held a set of balanced throwing daggers. My legs were encased in supple brown leather breeches, and another set of throwing daggers was strapped to my thighs, hidden in the tops of my tall leather boots. I sighed and stretched one leg out. I loved these boots. They were modeled after some riding boots that Devlin had had since Elizabeth was queen. He’d had them remade in the 1600s when heels became fashionable. Mine had a two-inch heel, high enough to please my vanity, but thick enough that I could still run in them.
I adjusted the shoulder straps on the sheath that hid a short sword along my spine and slid my basket-hilted claymore into the scabbard at my hip. I tied my hair back tightly with a ribbon—not that it would survive the fight. Justine seemed to be able to come out of just about any confrontation with perfectly coiffed hair, but my red curls had lost more pins and ribbons than I could even begin to count. I took off my diamond earrings and necklace and gently placed them in the cloisonne jewelry box that Michael had bought for me in Rome. As if conjured by my thoughts he came into the room.
I watched him in the mirror as his gaze moved over me, hot with lust. I smiled, pleased that things were not so far gone between us that I could still inspire such a reaction from him.
“Watch your back tonight,” he said, finally.
“Why? I mean, other than the obvious reasons?”
“MacLeod is bringing Khalid and Hashim with him. The help will undoubtedly be useful, but I don’t entirely trust either one of them.”
“Who is staying with Marrakesh?”
“Drake and Bel.”
I nodded. I didn’t particularly like the thought of Khalid or Hashim at my back, but I liked the thought of them alone here with Marrakesh even less. I still didn’t really believe that they were involved in whatever was happening here, but the evidence was certainly beginning to pile up against them. Like everyone else, I found it rather suspicious that Marrakesh went stark raving mad and then fell into a coma moments before she could ascertain for sure whether or not they were involved. I knew that Marrakesh and MacLeod believed that the twins would never harm either of them, but the whole episode was just a little too convenient for my taste. I donned a russet-colored cloak trimmed in red fox, which served to hide the arsenal of weapons I carried, and Michael and I went to meet the others in the front hall.
Chapter 23
It took three carriages to take us all into the Old Town. The king, Khalid, Hashim, and Aubert rode in the first carriage. Devlin, Justine, Michael, and I followed in our own coach, and two of Aubert’s Wardens, Wallace and Ross, came behind us in the third. We disembarked at the end of the Cowgate near Grassmarket, making our way on foot toward South Bridge in the hope that we would find the group of rogues, or they would find us. Aubert’s human drivers followed behind with the carriages at a discreet distance. As we walked down the street I wondered what our little group looked like to the humans. Glancing around at Justine and the men surrounding me, I could only guess.
Michael was silent and brooding at my side, so I slowed my pace until I fell in step next to MacLeod.
“Are you all right?” I asked him.
“Of course,” he replied, glancing at me suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”
“I was just wondering. That’s the fourth time you’ve shifted your shoulders like that in the last half of a block. Is there … something in your shirt?”
He mumbled a reply. I turned around, walking backward so that I could look him in the eye.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Khalid coughed and averted his gaze. MacLeod glared at me, and then reached out and grabbed my hand, raising it up and placing it on his chest.
I stumbled and nearly fell. “Is that—”
“Yes,” he hissed before I could get out the word armor.
“Why?” I asked, puzzled.
“Marrakesh makes me wear the breastplate, to protect my heart, anytime I go on a raid or anyplace where I might be in danger. I hate the bloody thing, but she would … she would know if I said I wore it and didn’t.”
He was an important man, the King of the Western Lands. If anyone deserved to have a little added protection, it was him.
I smiled at him. “Yes, well, we’re women. We always know when you’re lying to us. Unfortunately,
you just happen to live with a woman who can prove it.”
He chuckled. “Aye, well, it’s no great hardship if it means she doesn’t worry so much,” he said, scowling and shifting his shoulders again. “But I think this used to fit better. Bloody thing feels like I’ve been shoved into a whiskey barrel.”
I laughed and patted his very solid chest. “Try wearing a corset sometime,” I said.
Before he could reply a soft whoosh rent the air above our heads. We all turned and stared at the arrow that pierced the door to my right.
“Move!” Devlin shouted.
We rushed forward, only to be blocked by another arrow that missed Devlin by scant inches.
“Into the alley!” someone yelled.
Michael rushed toward me, grabbed my hand, and we all spilled down the steps into one of the narrow alleys Edinburgh was famous for.
This one unfortunately did not open onto the other side of the block as many of them did. It ended with a seven-story tenement. On either side of us the stone walls of the buildings were seven to ten stories straight up with no balconies or ledges. I could make two, possibly three stories in a leap, but not seven. Since it went without saying that none of us was willing to burst into a human tenement with a group of rogue vampires on our heels, we were trapped. The only way out was through the group of vamps headed our way down the alley.
I could have reached out and smacked Aubert. When he’d said that the original gang of ten had returned with friends, he’d neglected to mention exactly how many. There had to be fifty vampires descending on us. I didn’t like five-to-one odds as a general rule. On the bright side, the alley was so narrow it would keep them from rushing us all at once, and if they had to come at us a few at a time we’d be fine. On the not-so-bright side, at least one of these idiots had a crossbow, and I was betting he wasn’t going to be on the front line.
I pulled the short sword from my spine sheath and held it in my left hand, the claymore in my right. Aubert had moved to stand in front of our group, Wallace and Ross on either side of him. Khalid and Hashim were at their backs. The twins had maneuvered their king behind them, but MacLeod quickly pushed his way between them. Khalid turned to say something to the king, but MacLeod snapped, “I didn’t get all dressed up just to stand in the back of the line.” Devlin and Justine flanked the king’s party to the left, Michael and I to the right. Michael looked over at Devlin and made a few quick motions with his hand. Devlin nodded back. When you’ve fought side by side for over eighty years, few words are necessary. The three of them often moved through a fight like a choreographed dance. It was one I was still learning.
“What was that?” I asked.
Michael leaned down and whispered in my ear, “If they engage us, we let the king’s men take the brunt and we go around the sides and take out their bowman. That’s more of a danger than their numbers.”
“Yes, flying death is never good,” I mumbled.
The rogues came to a stop no more than twenty feet in front of us, and I’d rarely seen a more ragtag group of vampires. They looked like common gutter trash and carried rusty swords, axes, and stakes. I even saw one pitchfork. It looked as though they’d armed themselves with whatever they could steal off the street. The good news was that there appeared to be only one man with a crossbow. The bad news was that he was at the very back of the group, standing on the steps that led down into the alley, giving him a perfect vantage point to shoot at us over the heads of his comrades. The crossbow was raised and ready to fire, and I wondered which of us he was aiming for.
Aubert took a step forward, his ever-present spectacles perched on his nose. When he spoke his accent was that of an English aristocrat, and I marveled again at how easily he slipped from one dialect to another.
“Gentlemen, you are in flagrant violation of the immigration laws of the City of Edinburgh. For some of you, this is not your first offense.” He looked pointedly at the barrel-chested vampire standing at the front of the group. The man’s clothes were unkempt, his black hair was shaggy, and the greasy mustache he sported made my skin crawl. “I warned you, Simon, that a second violation was punishable by death.”
The big vampire regarded Aubert for a moment, then spat on the ground, rocked back on his heels, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Little man, in case you ain’t noticed there are fifty of us, and only eight of you.”
Devlin chuckled and called out, “Aubert, are you sure you explained the laws to him in small words that even he can understand? The man can’t even count.”
Simon straightened to his full height, his shoulders stiff and his fist flexing in anger. “I can count fine. I just ain’t countin’ the two doxies,” he sneered.
Michael bristled with anger. “You’ll watch your tongue when you address my consort, or I’ll be cutting it out shortly.”
“Perhaps,” Devlin said, “what we need here are introductions all around. Gentlemen, we are The Righteous. We are the defenders of the innocent.”
Justine added, “We are the hand of justice.”
Michael pulled his great claymore from its scabbard. “We are the sword of vengeance.”
I looked Simon in the eye and said slowly, “We are what evil fears.”
A few of the rogues shifted uneasily, and I saw one vampire toward the back slip up the stairs and disappear into the darkness. Simon’s eyes showed confusion for a moment, but soon that arrogant bravado was back. He was young, and either he’d been turned by another young vampire, or the vamp who had turned him had abandoned him to learn on his own. The older vampires told stories of The Righteous to keep the young ones in line, but Simon had obviously not heard of us. I almost felt sorry for him. Ah, well. If he lived, he’d learn.
Simon shrugged. “The queen is the only vampire who scares me, and rumor has it she’s dead. So it seems to me that the only thing standing in the way of our taking this city is the ten of you. Not very good odds, if you ask me.”
“You speak of treason,” Aubert hissed.
“It’s only treason if the puppy tries to take my land without first fighting me in one-on-one combat, and winning,” MacLeod said, stepping forward to address Simon. “I am MacLeod, King of the Western Lands, and you are trespassing in my territory. You want my city? Come and fight me for it, if you have the balls.”
Simon shifted his weight and regarded MacLeod. The rogue had the dangerous quality of a street fighter, but MacLeod was a warrior and he had the confidence and commanding presence of a king. I would not have wanted to stand against him.
“The king himself, eh? You hear that, Brodie?” Simon called to one of the men behind him.
My gaze moved over the crowd, trying to figure out who Brodie was. Too late I heard the whoosh of an arrow slice through the air, and Khalid’s roar of outrage. MacLeod was surrounded by his men and none of them had gotten in front of the arrow fast enough. The king stood in the middle of our group with a crossbow bolt embedded in his chest, directly over his heart.
Chapter 24
We all stared. He should have been dust. MacLeod looked down at his chest in shock and then a slow, menacing smile formed on his lips. I rushed forward as the king grasped the arrow and snapped it off. The sharp, tangy scent of pine filled my nostrils. It appeared that the whole gang of rogues was as young as Simon. Not just any type of wood through the heart would kill a vampire, and any vamp with any age to him should know that. There were ten sacred trees whose wood was lethal to vampires, and pine was not one of them. If you staked a vampire with any common wood, the pain would be excruciating and it would give you the time you needed to take the vampire’s head. If he survived being staked, the wound would not heal quickly. Wood through the heart healed slowly, like a human wound, but only a stake made of wood from a sacred tree would kill a vampire outright. It was sheer luck that these brigands didn’t seem to have the experience to know that yet.
The arrow MacLeod held was mostly intact, having been stopped by the breastplate. MacLeod held the arrow
up to show that it was missing no more of the shaft than just the tip, and a rousing cheer fell over us from above. As a whole, everyone in the alley looked up.
What appeared to be the entire vampire population of Edinburgh perched, like gargoyles, on the rooftops surrounding the alley. Those of us below stared up at them, waiting to see if they would move to defend their king. It appeared that they were impressed that MacLeod seemed impervious to the arrow, yet not one of them came to our aid.
“Are they here to help us, or hinder us?” I whispered.
MacLeod surveyed the rooftops one more time, and then turned to me. “They are here to see whether or not I am still worthy of my crown.”
“Still, a little help would be nice,” I grumbled.
“Very impressive, Your Highness,” Simon sneered, “but you’re still outnumbered and your people ain’t makin’ a move to save you. It’s sad, really, that you’re all gonna die in this alley. Me and my boys are gonna feast tonight, ain’t we, boys?” Emboldened by the shouts of approval and encouragement that rang out among the men behind him, Simon continued on, “No more rules, no more laws. We’re gonna drain this city dry, ain’t we, b—”
Simon’s speech was cut short when MacLeod drew back and threw the arrow he held, impaling it in the rogue’s throat. Simon clutched at the arrow, panicking, and tried to pull it free.
“I grow tired of listening to you,” MacLeod said as he drew his sword. “You have two choices, puppy: I will grant everyone here immunity if you leave this city now and never show your face in it again, or you can die. Make your decision.”
Simon worked the shaft free of his throat, and blood poured down his neck from the open wound. He held his hand out, and the man next to him put a sword in it. Aubert sighed audibly and we all looked over at him. He made a great show of removing his spectacles and placing them carefully in his breast pocket. When he was finished, he looked up at Simon. It was amazing to watch that indefinable something change within him. Jacques Aubert used his appearance the same way he used his many accents: to keep the vampires he dealt with off balance. Gone was the unassuming civil servant, and in his place stood a man who looked like a killer. I wondered if it unnerved the rogues as much as it did me.
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