This Rough Magic

by Heather Graham

  A sudden crashing sound behind her sent Carly spinning around. Tanya was there. She stared past them. And looked as if she had seen a ghost. She had dropped a glass of wine.

  “Tanya? What is it?” Carly asked.

  She shook her head. “Sorry. I’m seeing things in the mist, I suppose.” She stooped to pick up the glass. Marie, who had apparently heard the crash, came running in. Telling Tanya and Carly that they must not bother, she quickly swept up the mess.

  “You would like more wine, mam’selle?” Marie asked.

  Tanya sank into a chair near Carly. “Yes, darling, I would. Thank you so much.” She stared across the table at Alexi.

  Carly didn’t know exactly what it was about that look, but she was suddenly certain that the man Tanya had been meeting at night was Alexi. And perhaps she had been sneaking him in because supposedly he hadn’t been at the castle all those nights—although he was a frequent visitor and he was always welcome to stay, he did have his own home, and he did go to it.

  Or so it had seemed.

  He had stayed away more than usual lately, Carly noted.

  “Have you come for—dinner?” Tanya asked him blandly. She was in denim, but she managed to make denim look ultrachic, even elegant, Carly observed.

  “I’m not dressed,” Alexi murmured, then shrugged. “I’m sure Jon will have something. Yes, I will stay.” He looked back at Carly. “The full moon, you know.”

  The way he said it gave her chills. She stood, collecting her drawings. “I think I’ll...shower,” she said lamely.

  “Sounds good to me,” Geoffrey said, standing, too. Then he laughed. “I didn’t mean that I was following you to your shower,” he assured Carly with a smile. “I mean, I’m going to go shower. By myself.”

  Carly laughed, waved uneasily to the three of them and headed for the stairway. She paused and glanced back. Geoffrey had already left. Two dark heads were bowed there together, Tanya’s and Alexi’s.

  Carly wanted to scream. She wanted to warn Tanya. Yet what could she say? What proof did she have?

  Then even as she watched them the two parted. Alexi started toward the main house, and Tanya wandered toward the stairway.

  Quickly, so that she wouldn’t be caught spying, Carly hurried through the rest of the terrace and headed upstairs.

  The castle seemed dark that evening—the lights hadn’t been turned on yet. There were shadows everywhere, it seemed. And it seemed as if the mist from outside had penetrated the walls to rise on the stairs. She knew it wasn’t real. And that she wasn’t alone, not at all. Tanya was right behind her.

  Carly still felt as if demons were breathing down her neck. She rushed into her room and closed the door. Once she’d set down her drawings, she drew up her knees as she sat thoughtfully at the foot of the bed.

  It had to be Alexi. She would confront Dustin with her belief that night.

  But something nagged at her, and she didn’t know what.

  Then she realized what it was.

  Tanya. Tanya had dropped her glass because she had seen something. They had all been together then, she and Geoffrey and Alexi and Tanya. Jon and Jasmine and Dustin had been missing.

  So what? she charged herself. Tanya might have seen anything. A movement in that eternal mist.

  Carly rose. She went to the balcony doors and opened them. The mist was rising. It didn’t entirely obscure her view; it just cast a curious opaque veil over the world. She could still see the stables across the courtyard. And she could see the cars drawn up in front. The Lamborghini was there, as well as the Volvo and Alexi’s Peugeot.

  She narrowed her eyes. She thought she could see the Mercedes—the car that Dustin had taken that morning—parked beside the stables. She wondered why he would park there, then shrugged. Maybe it didn’t matter.

  She started to turn away when a sudden movement caught her attention. A woman was running from the house to the stables. Carly stared harder.

  It was Jasmine.

  Her sister—who was supposedly in hiding, who was supposedly not here—was running outdoors. Jasmine had been restless, Carly knew. Very restless. Jasmine considered the world to be her oyster, and even if she did really love Count Vadim, she could not bear being penned in for long.

  “But you’re in danger here, you silly goose!” Carly whispered.

  Jasmine disappeared through the stable door. Carly hesitated just a moment, then, deciding to go after her sister, she left her room and raced down the stairway. She came out on the terrace and ran down the steps to the courtyard, breathing heavily.

  It had grown dark quickly. It was still twilight, but the gray swirl of the coming night had already descended.

  Carly looked up. The moon was shining, glowing down upon the courtyard already. The full moon.

  “Jasmine...damn you!” Carly muttered nervously.

  She reached the stables and tried the door. It wouldn’t give. She jiggled the handle. Nothing happened.

  “Jasmine!” she whispered. “Jasmine!” Her voice grew louder, and still there was no answer.

  Then she heard her sister scream.

  The sound was a long and shrill and filled with terror. It came once then again and again.

  “Jasmine!”

  Carly threw her entire weight against the door. She heard a shuddering and splintering of old wood, and then the door caved in.

  She had put so much effort into the blow that the force sent her flying to the ground. She skinned her palms, though she barely noticed.

  It was dark inside the barn. The moon’s glow only touched the doorway. The lights should have been on, she knew. One of the horses whinnied. Another shuffled. Another gave a nervous snort.

  “Jasmine!” Carly screamed.

  “Carly!”

  Suddenly Jasmine came hurtling toward her. Carly had just begun to rise, but her sister’s weight sent her flying. There was a flurry of motion. Dirt choked her throat, and Jasmine’s form completely blinded her.

  “You’re all right!” Carly cried, hugging her sister. Jasmine was shaking, horribly, terribly. Carly realized that she herself was shaking, too. Jasmine began to speak disjointedly.

  “I—I had to get out. Just for a few seconds. I thought I could slip in here and see the horses. Oh, it was like last time, before I ran. When I wrote you. I was so scared. I was terrified. Oh, Carly, he grabbed me. He had a knife. He had it up to my throat. Until someone ripped him from me. Until you came. If you hadn’t come when you did...”

  “We’ve got to get out of here!” Carly murmured.

  Jasmine pulled away and studied her sister with wide eyes. “Oh, Carly—” She broke off. There were footsteps by the doorway.

  He was silhouetted there in the moonlight. Though she couldn’t see his features, Carly knew that it was Dustin.

  He rushed in and fell to his knees beside the two of them. He lifted Jasmine’s chin. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded. “But who—”

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  “It was you. It was you in here,” Carly said, recalling that it had been his car she’d seen. And she also recalled the flurry of movement that had made Tanya drop her glass.

  He glanced at her impatiently. In the darkness his gaze was golden and luminescent, like the wolf’s. “Yes, I was here. And I almost had him. But he had Jasmine.”

  Carly sank back, swallowing. I love this man! she reminded herself. But he had been there, and someone had attacked her sister. Had he really saved Jasmine, or had he been the one attacking her?

  “Come on. Let’s get out of here,” Dustin urged them, helping her to her feet. The three started walking back toward the castle. Figures appeared in the mist. As they came closer, Carly saw that it was Geoffrey and Alexi.

  “Cat’s out of the bag now,” Dustin murmured.

  “What happened?” Geoffrey demanded, rushing forward. “I heard the screaming.”

  “Jasmine!” Alexi cried out.

  He sounded concerned
, very innocent. Carly didn’t know what to think. “Someone attacked Jasmine in the barn,” she explained.

  “Why, how preposterous!” Geoffrey exclaimed. “Jasmine isn’t even supposed to be here.” He paused. “What are you doing here, my dear? You were in Paris—weren’t you?”

  Jasmine nodded. She nervously fingered her throat and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Hello, Geoffrey. I’ve, er, just arrived.”

  “And to such a thing!” Alexi murmured. He seemed to be breathing too hard, Carly decided.

  But then again, so was Dustin.

  Feeling as if her skin crawled, she looked at the lot of them. Any one of them could have attacked her sister, run away and reappeared. Any one of them.

  Dustin had been in the barn.

  “Let’s bring her inside,” he said.

  Jasmine cast him a grateful glance and started to say his name. He frowned and she quickly corrected herself. “Jon, how sweet. I’d love a brandy.”

  “Of course. And we have to report this to the inspector.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Alexi complained. “He’ll make us all insane again. And besides, he should know. He has men around somewhere, I believe.”

  The inspector did have men around. The two who had been assigned to Alexi came running into the courtyard then. Carly decided they must have been playing cards or something, for they hadn’t even heard Jasmine screaming.

  The inspector was called, and he did put them all through a million questions again. Carly felt guilty, as if she were lying, though really she wasn’t. But she knew that the man he was calling “Count” was Dustin Vadim and that there were two Vadims. There was always an extra Vadim....

  A man who didn’t need an alibi, since no one except Carly and Jasmine knew about the deception.

  There was no formal dinner that evening. Marie brought roast beef sandwiches and spicy pasta salads while the inspector continued to interrogate them.

  Alexi had been right about one thing. It was the same vein of questioning, over and over. The inspector threatened, cajoled, and in the end was frustrated.

  Jasmine went upstairs with Carly when it was time for bed, and Carly was glad.

  Jasmine was still fingering her throat nervously as she said, “I was so frightened. It was really almost over for us this evening. Jon heard the commotion, of course, and almost came out. He was so afraid for me.”

  Was he? Carly wondered. Where had Jon Vadim been? Were she and Jasmine both mesmerized?

  Jasmine kissed her suddenly. “I’ve got to go to him.”

  “Jasmine! No. Tonight you should stay with me—”

  “No, no, I can’t. He’s been worried sick. I’ll see you first thing in the morning. I have to be with him, too. I have to be his alibi.” She slipped through the paneling.

  Carly stared after her. His alibi? Or his victim? she wondered.

  And she realized that she was thinking the same thing herself.

  She bathed and dressed in her flannel gown. Dustin hadn’t come to her, and she shivered, not knowing whether it was from anticipation or fear.

  He had been in the stables. He had been there....

  She opened the door to the balcony. The moon was up high now. So very full. Its light was cast down on the courtyard, and she was certain that she was bathed in its glow, too.

  “Carly...”

  Her breath caught, and she spun around. Dustin walked across to her and buried his face in her throat. “You’re so beautiful here, so very, very beautiful.”

  He held her shoulders and drew her to him to kiss her lips and the furiously pounding pulse at her throat. He untied the ribbon at her neck, the flannel nightgown fell to her feet and she was naked in the moonlight.

  He lowered his head and took her breast into his mouth. His tongue laved her nipple, which hardened into an erotic peak. The warmth feathered and spread into her loins, and she did not feel the chill of the night; she knew only the radiant heat of his mouth upon her. His lips traveled over her, and he fell to his knees. He caressed and explored her form, pressing her forward. The taunting, intimate warmth of his tongue seared into her and she cried out, throwing back her head. She was heedless of the moon, of the night, aware only of the man who stroked her into endless pleasure.

  She collapsed on him, and he carried her in. They made love with the doors open and the moonlight falling upon them.

  A chill grew in the room. Dustin rose, naked and sleek, closed the doors, and they made love again.

  Carly must have drifted off. She awoke, vaguely aware that he was moving. “What is it?” she asked him.

  “Thirsty,” he muttered, then kissed her. “Tonight I think I’ll get that champagne.”

  He crawled out of bed. Carly sank farther beneath the covers. She could hear wolves howling. There were many of them tonight, it seemed. The sound was loud and haunting, and she could well imagine them out there, bathed in the light of the moon.

  “Be right back,” Dustin promised.

  Exhausted, Carly murmured something, then closed her eyes and slept.

  When she awoke she was disoriented. The night was almost over, and the room was filling with dawn’s rosy light.

  Some sound alerted her, and she sat up, grasping the covers to her.

  Dustin was at the foot of the bed, smiling ruefully, holding a bottle and two champagne glasses. She smiled back lazily and relaxed. “I think we should have started earlier. It’s almost morning.”

  “So it is,” Dustin agreed. He threw off his robe and kicked off his brown leather slippers. Carly frowned slightly. There was mud on them.

  “Here!” Naked, he crawled back in beside her. He pressed a glass of champagne into her hands and poured his own. He clinked glasses with her, and she sipped. It didn’t taste half bad in the morning, she thought. He leaned over and kissed her, and he tasted of champagne. She smiled as the champagne bubbled through her, feather light, dry, pleasant. She was only half awake. She felt comfortable and secure.

  She couldn’t believe that she had ever let herself worry or wonder about Dustin. She loved him.

  She swallowed the rest of the champagne and realized that he was studying her with his wolf’s gaze, eyes slightly narrowed, features tense. She knew what was coming when he plucked the glass from her fingers, and met his kiss eagerly, anticipating its lush heat.

  She could be exhausted or furious or even barely awake, but all he needed to do was touch her and she came alive. He held her body and came down upon her and filled her with passion, raw and exciting. And when it was over, she didn’t realize that the room was filled with daylight; she closed her eyes and fell asleep once more.

  She didn’t wake until much later. Someone was shaking her.

  She blinked, then pulled the covers up high about her.

  Jasmine was sitting at the foot of her bed.

  “Oh, it’s awful!” Jasmine moaned worriedly. “Carly, you have to wake up. You have to get dressed and come down. He’s waiting.”

  “Who’s waiting?” Carly asked cautiously. “And what is awful?”

  Jasmine got off the bed so that Carly could rise. “The inspector is waiting. And it’s awful because—Oh, Carly! Tanya was murdered last night.”

  Tanya!

  Ice entered her heart and curled around it. Tanya couldn’t be dead. Not spoiled, petulant Tanya, who could also be so kind. No, she couldn’t be dead....

  “The coroner knows she was killed sometime during the middle of the night. Oh, Carly! See why I had to go to Jon? I know he is innocent. I was with him all night. And Dustin! See, Carly? You were together all night, so you know!”

  The ice clenched her heart like a fist. No, she didn’t know that. She didn’t know that at all. Dustin had left her in the middle of the night.

  In the middle of the night, when the wolves had howled and the moon had been full.

  CHAPTER 11

  Once again they were all seated around the library.

  Well, not all of them, for poor
Tanya was dead and the real Jon Vadim was—to Carly—conspicuously missing.

  It was pathetic. Poor Tanya had been found like the victims before her. So far the police were convinced that she’d been killed where she’d been found, in the Carpathian caves deep in the forest.

  On Vadim property.

  Carly watched Dustin where he sat behind the desk, impressive in a muted tweed plaid, a duster tossed carelessly around his shoulders as if he planned to go out or had been called in from the cold.

  Carly felt ill. She wished she hadn’t had to confront him here first, in front of the inspector. She’d wanted to scream at him, wanted to pound against his chest.

  Every time she looked at him she accused him with her eyes. Where were you last night? Did you disappear in time to commit murder and then return? How could you? Oh, God, poor Tanya!...

  And yesterday, when Jasmine had been attacked, he had been in the stables. He had been there, and he had disappeared last night. No, she had to believe in him. As blindly, as loyally as Jasmine believed in the real Jon.

  But the real Jon had probably lain with her all night. She had not awakened with dawn’s first light to see that he had returned to her, after he’d left by the light of the moon.

  The full moon.

  Nervous, she jumped to her feet, heedless of what the inspector was saying. It was probably the same old thing. Where were you? What did you do? What happened? They had all gone to bed! It was the simplest damn answer in the world, yet sometime after they had all retired for the night, Tanya had come out of her room again and someone had gone with her for a walk in the woods.

  “I don’t understand this!” Carly cried. All eyes turned to her. The inspector, so rudely interrupted, cleared his throat. Carly ignored him. “People keep dying, and nothing is done! Don’t you have forensic experts? Can’t you compare hair or blood samples, or fibers, or—”

  “We do try, Madame Kiernan. We do try,” the inspector interrupted her coldly. He gave her an acid smile. “In fact, Madame, we have a young American on our staff, so I’m sure that we are as up-to-date as we can be. But sometimes there are no hairs and no fibers. Sometimes the victims die as quickly as if a wolf had leaped out of the forest and stolen their breath away. Then there are the elements, madame. Evidence is lost in the mist that plagues us by twilight and at dawn. Perhaps you have some suggestion.”