Grave Sins

by Jenna Maclaine

  “Would someone care to tell me what’s going on?” I asked.

  Marrakesh was sitting on the edge of her bed in a diaphanous white nightgown and MacLeod was standing next to her, shirtless, looking ready to murder us all.

  Devlin gestured toward them. “Justine and I were coming up to tell the king what we’d discovered when I heard a crash from the room. Thinking something was wrong, I entered without knocking.”

  I glanced at the silver tea service scattered across the floor amid MacLeod’s discarded shirt and coat, along with the rumpled state of the bedsheets, and guessed what Devlin and Justine had interrupted.

  “Marrakesh,” I said. “It’s good to see that you’re awake and in such … good spirits.”

  MacLeod looked a little sheepish. “Aye, well, she’s never been unconscious, not after the first few hours anyway. We decided it would be best if no one knew she’d woken. I was afraid you would want her to try to use her power again, and after what happened last time I absolutely forbid it. I will not put her in that position again. Of course, we didn’t think it would take this long to figure out who was behind the attacks.”

  “So no one knows she’s awake?” Michael asked. “Not Khalid, Hashim, not even Drake?”

  MacLeod shook his head. “No one but she and I … and now the four of you.”

  “I think it’s slightly absurd,” the queen remarked, “but he insisted.”

  “Have you told him what happened out on the street tonight?” I asked Devlin.

  He scowled. “We hadn’t gotten that far yet. The king was still berating me for entering his chamber unannounced.”

  I filled them in on Drummond’s arrival and the incident with Khalid and what was quite possibly our ghost.

  “Michael and Drummond and I will stay in the house next door during the daylight hours, but I honestly believe you need to take the queen out of here tomorrow night.”

  “I don’t like abandoning my capital,” Marrakesh protested.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I truly do think it’s the best way to flush the villains out.”

  MacLeod nodded. “We’ll go to Castle Darkness, but tomorrow night is too soon. There are arrangements that must be made before we can undertake such a long journey. It will have to be the following evening.”

  “Night after next, then,” I agreed. “Michael and I will accompany you to see to your safety. I think it’s best to keep the fact that Marrakesh is awake a secret while we’re still in Edinburgh, though.”

  The king nodded. The queen did not look pleased.

  “It will be all right, my dear,” MacLeod said. “Aubert is an excellent Warden, and Khalid and Hashim will be here to see to anything that needs tending.”

  MacLeod looked at me, and we had a moment of perfect understanding. His dark eyes spoke volumes.

  He was beginning to have doubts about his lieutenants. Marrakesh would never believe that the twins would harm her, but it was MacLeod’s duty, both as her king and as her husband, to be suspicious.

  Chapter 36

  Before dawn Michael and I moved some of our things to the townhouse next door. We were putting fresh sheets on the bed in the room where I had seen the ghost when Drummond rapped softly on the door. He looked tired, and he was soaked to the skin.

  “I managed to follow his scent for several blocks before I lost it because of the damn rain,” he said miserably.

  “It’s all right,” I assured him. “Why don’t you get some sleep? We’ll be leaving for Castle Darkness north of Inverness tomorrow night.”

  He nodded. “I’ll travel with you as far as Inverness, then I’ll be heading back to Glen Gregor.”

  I handed him the bowl that contained the ash from the spell I’d cast. “Call us if you see anything.”

  He nodded and retreated to one of the other bedrooms.

  * * *

  Several hours later I snuggled against Michael’s chest, my hair still damp from the hot bath we’d shared, and sighed contentedly.

  He kissed my forehead and said, “I like it much better when we come into a town and the Regent points out the bad vampires and we kill them.”

  I laughed. “Isn’t that the truth. What are we missing here, Michael? I couldn’t see the ghost but it certainly didn’t appear that Khalid was talking to anyone. To me it looked like he was just walking quietly down the street. Everything seems to point directly to him and Hashim—Clarissa’s death, what happened to the queen just before she touched Khalid, the ghost tonight. But we have no proof of their involvement in anything. To be quite honest with you, I’ve been so wrapped up in our troubles these past few weeks that I’ve paid little attention to either of them. Have you seen them do anything at all suspicious?”

  “Not a thing,” he said. “MacLeod has spent most of his time with Marrakesh. He rarely leaves their room. Khalid has been taking care of MacLeod’s day-to-day business and Hashim just lurks about, watching us watch them. Nothing unusual has happened, but then again, did we honestly expect it to? There haven’t been any more suspicious bodies showing up in Surgeon’s Square, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. If someone was trying to implicate the queen in these murders, it would defeat their purpose to have another human killed while she’s comatose.”

  “Except for the fact that she’s just as awake as you or I,” I pointed out.

  “Ah, but our villain doesn’t know that.”

  “That’s what I don’t understand. If he’s in league with our ghost, doesn’t it seem that he should know it? You can’t tell me that the ghost doesn’t know she’s awake.”

  “Aye but he’s damned either way,” Michael observed. “If he keeps up the murders and we never find out the queen is truly awake, then he’s proven her innocence. If he stops the killings, then it points to her guilt—unless we find out that she hasn’t been in a coma after all.”

  I was quiet for several moments. “What if we never figure this out?” I asked, miserably.

  “Whoever is behind this will slip up sooner or later,” Michael assured me. “If he thinks he’s losing control of the situation by the king and queen leaving town, then perhaps we’ll force him to make that mistake. And on the off chance that the queen is honestly stark raving mad and running about killing people, that will become readily apparent as well. It’s a good plan, Cin.” He chuckled. “But are you certain you didn’t come up with it simply to get us out of town before your aunt Maggie arrives?”

  I glanced up at him. “Would that be so bad?”

  He blew out a breath. “Hell, no.”

  Chapter 37

  Michael and I spent such a glorious day making love and sleeping in each other’s arms that I hated to leave the house at all. With no one else about, it was easy to imagine we were the only two people in the world—except for the werewolf prowling the halls. Drummond would sleep for an hour or so and then I’d hear him moving through the house, as if on patrol, before he retired to his room again.

  Sunset came earlier than I would have liked. Michael dressed quickly and went to speak with Drummond. I looked in the mirror and admired my new gown. I’d picked this dress up in London on our way to Ravenworth and hadn’t worn it yet. It was made of emerald-green velvet, tight through the waist and full in the skirt, with little cap sleeves. The bodice was cut low enough that my breasts swelled temptingly above it. I should have brought my breeches instead. I was hungry tonight and I needed to feed, but I was also vain enough to want Michael to see me in a new gown before we spent the next week or more cooped up in a carriage. I gathered up my throwing knives with their wrist sheaths, and the short sword in its spine sheath, unwilling to strap them on quite yet and ruin the elegance of my attire.

  “That’s new,” Michael said.

  I turned to see him lounging in the doorway with a hot, predatory look in his blue eyes. The candlelight cast dark shadows under his sharp cheekbones, and his beauty made my breath catch. I walked to him seductively, enjoying the way the velvet skirt swayed as
I moved.

  “Do you like it?” I asked.

  He ran the backs of his fingers over the swell of my breasts. “I do,” he replied huskily. “And I’ll enjoy taking it off of you later, mo ghraidh.”

  I smiled. “I’ll enjoy letting you but right now I’m hungry.”

  He offered me his arm. “Let me give Drummond the key to the house and we’ll go out.”

  “Oh, damn,” I exclaimed. “I forgot my cloak when we moved our things last night. You go see Drummond while I run next door and get it. I’ll be right back.”

  As I opened the door to the king’s residence, the sound of Justine’s rich soprano voice filtered into the foyer from the hallway that led to the kitchen. I recognized the song from the role of Malwina in Marschner’s Der Vampyr, which we had seen in Leipzig earlier in the year. I stood there a minute, listening with pleasure to the aria, then raced upstairs to retrieve my cloak.

  Drake was waiting in the foyer when I returned. He smiled at me, and it was not a nice smile. “Miss Craven, might I have a word with you?”

  I gritted my teeth in frustration. I didn’t have the time or the inclination to enter into a conversation with him at this particular moment.

  “What is it, Drake?” I asked, my voice sounding more impatient and waspish than I’d intended it to.

  “Oh, my,” he said in a cavalier tone that grated on my very last nerve. “Temper, temper. What are you going to do? Turn me to dust with your black magic?”

  I narrowed my eyes, waiting to see where this topic would lead.

  “There were rumors,” he said, “that you’d killed a dozen humans in Venice by the use of dark magic. We were inclined to disbelieve these rumors because of your status with The Righteous. I wonder what the High King would say if I told him there is now undeniable proof?”

  “No one has seen me kill a human.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe not, but it’s certainly not a far stretch from what they say you did then to what the entire vampire population of Edinburgh saw you do to that group of rogues.”

  I glared at him but said nothing. What could I say? He was right.

  “What? Not rushing to declare your innocence?”

  “I certainly do not owe you an explanation and I have nothing to say on the matter, regardless.”

  He stalked toward me with a hungry, predator, grace. “I am the High King’s representative and you will speak of it if I wish it.”

  I looked up into his face, only inches away from mine. “I answer to a higher power than you or the High King, Drake.”

  “There is no one greater among our kind than the High King and he heeds my counsel. You would do well to remember that, witch.”

  “Really? Because the goddess Morrigan herself acquitted me of any guilt concerning that incident and told me that if the High King took issue with it, he should speak to her.” Drake snapped his head back in surprise.

  I shook my head. “What did you think was going to happen here, Drake? That you would threaten to tell the High King what I did to that band of traitors and I would fall to my knees and offer you anything in return for your silence?” I laughed at him. “That’s just … sad.”

  Sometimes I don’t know how to quit while I’m ahead. Drake growled and his hand shot out, forcing me to stumble backward to avoid his grasp. Before I could even think of calling my magic another hand came from somewhere behind me, clamping down on Drake’s wrist until I heard bones snap.

  “I should have done this a long time ago,” Michael said as he stepped in front of me and punched Drake squarely in the nose. “If you ever lay a hand on my woman again, Drake, I will kill you.”

  Drake lunged at him and the two of them grappled, knocking over the Chippendale table. A very expensive-looking vase shattered against the marble floor, and a heavy brass candlestick rolled across the foyer. I backed up, moving to stand against the wall next to the front door to give them room to maneuver. It was hard not to stop this, but it was a fight that had been years in the making and neither of them would thank me if I intervened. I winced as Drake landed a hard hit to Michael’s ribs, but Michael came back with a solid punch to Drake’s jaw that snapped the Sentinel’s head back. While he was dazed, Michael swept his feet from under him and Drake landed on the floor with a violent curse, bleeding from his nose and a cut on his lip.

  “Have you had enough yet?” Michael asked.

  Battered as he was, Drake stood with one swift, graceful movement and the two of them squared off once again. I was so engrossed in the confrontation that I shrieked in surprise when the front door flew open and Devlin marched into the hall.

  He took one look at the bloodied men in the foyer and yelled, “Stop it this instant, the both of you!”

  Michael’s head turned at Devlin’s booming command and Drake used that moment of inattention to rush him. He threw himself at Michael and the momentum sent the two of them sailing past Devlin and me and down the front steps of the townhouse. I winced as I watched them tumble down the stone stairs. I was concentrating so much on Michael and the probable extent of his injuries that at first I didn’t see the woman standing on the sidewalk in front of the house. Drake and Michael took swift notice of her, however, as she rapped them both sharply with the heavy silver ball that topped her walking stick.

  “That’s what I was coming to tell you,” Devlin whispered in my ear.

  Drake and Michael scrambled to their feet like two errant schoolboys. I looked down into the woman’s eyes and inwardly sighed. This night was just going from bad to worse.

  “If these two ruffians are quite finished,” the woman said in an icy contralto I remembered so well, “perhaps you’d be good enough to invite me in out of the cold.”

  “Michael,” I said wearily, “would you please escort Aunt Maggie inside?”

  Chapter 38

  Mary Margaret Macgregor was barely five feet tall, but every inch radiated her absolute belief in her own power and authority. She carried herself like a queen and in her world, at Glen Gregor, she was treated as such. That had not changed. Indeed, time had changed very little about my aunt. Her dress was black, high-necked, and long-sleeved, as it always was. I hadn’t seen her in any other color since Uncle Richard had died twenty years ago. The tall, silver-tipped cane was new, though she wielded it more like a scepter than a walking stick. Her hair, which had been a lovely coppery red when I was young, was now solid white and pulled back into a simple but stylish chignon. Maggie’s features were strong and square, yet somehow managed to be delicate and feminine at the same time, and her face was so finely lined that she looked a good ten years younger than I knew she was. I wondered briefly if this was what my mother would have looked like now, if she’d lived.

  Aunt Maggie’s beautiful cornflower-blue eyes never missed anything, and tonight they quickly darted over the room full of vampires that had gathered during Michael and Drake’s brawl. With the exception of Marrakesh and Drummond, everyone in the residence was milling about in the foyer.

  “Where are your manners, child?” Aunt Maggie scolded. “I know that my sister raised you to be a better hostess than to neglect making introductions.”

  “Of course, Aunt Maggie,” I said, rushing forward. To my astonishment, eight vampires, including the King of the Western Lands, lined up like subjects waiting to greet a monarch. I shook my head at the surreal tableau and took Aunt Maggie’s arm, leading her first to MacLeod, as protocol dictated.

  “May I introduce His Majesty, MacLeod, King of the Western Lands. Your Majesty, my aunt, Mary Margaret Macgregor.”

  MacLeod claimed her hand and bowed while my aunt bobbed a small curtsy. I wasn’t sure if the shallow depth of the gesture was in deference to old bones or the fact that MacLeod was nothing more to her than another vampire. Whatever the case, he didn’t seem to notice and was very gallant toward her.

  “Mrs. Macgregor, welcome to my home. I trust your journey was uneventful?” he asked.

  She sighed. “As uneventful as t
hese things are at my age.”

  Reminded of why she was here in the first place, I said a little sharply, “You made excellent time. We did not expect you for several more days.”

  Maggie cut her eyes at me and replied in a patronizing tone meant to put me in my place, “Really, dear, you shouldn’t let being dead prevent you from keeping up with current events. There’s a lovely new invention called a steamship that managed to get me here from London in two days.”

  I nodded, gritting my teeth at the way she reminded me that I was less than human and then made me feel stupid, all in two succinct sentences.

  MacLeod stepped in. “It would be my pleasure to offer you the hospitality of my home while you’re in Edinburgh, Mrs. Macgregor.”

  “You are too kind, Your Majesty, but I would not wish to intrude. I’ve taken a room at the Star Hotel on Princes Street.”

  I introduced Khalid, Hashim, and Bel next. Khalid and Hashim were gracious but aloof, regarding my aunt with quiet curiosity. To Bel she said, “You are truly a beauty, my dear. Surely this is a face that would launch a thousand ships.” Bel blanched and took a step back, and I wondered what it was about Maggie’s comment that had unnerved her. Apparently my aunt didn’t notice Bel’s odd behavior because she moved on to the next vampire without so much as a backward glance.

  “Devlin, my boy,” she said. “Must you always hover up there around the ceiling?”

  Devlin leaned down from his great height and gallantly kissed Maggie’s hand. For some reason Devlin and Michael were the only ones who were exempt from her well-placed barbs.

  “Mademoiselle.” She addressed Justine. “You’re looking lovely as ever. Such a pretty girl, it’s no wonder you turned the heads of kings.”

  Justine pasted a smile on her face, trying her best to ignore the fact that my aunt had basically called her a whore. Justine was not ashamed of her past, but Maggie had a way of hitting you where you were the most vulnerable. She made a point of reminding you of your faults and shortcomings, but she did it all with pretty words and gracious compliments so that you couldn’t truly take issue with anything she said.