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Carnal Magic: The Wraith Accords, Book 1

Page 13

by Lila Dubois


  They fell silent, regarding one another through the haze of the portal.

  “You look weary, daughter.” Drakul’s tone was warmer, and the corners of his eyes crinkled with a smile.

  “I flew a long way, then ran.”

  “Not your body. Your spirit is weary. More happened.”

  Isabel nodded, but didn’t speak. She wouldn’t say anything about Aed—at least not yet. The hurt was too fresh.

  She was about to say something funny, something to make Drakul smile, when the phone rang. Not the one in her hand, but the phone on the wall in the main room. When they’d built the city, they’d installed phone lines—which at the time was a very new technology—under the streets that connected each of the buildings.

  “Do you know who’s in residence from Mexico City?” she asked Drakul.

  “I don’t. Be careful, Daughter.”

  “I will.” Rising, she tossed the receiver back through the portal. With a wave, she bid Drakul goodbye, then took the stone out of the quartz, closing the portal.

  Carefully locking up the hidden room, she then went to the still-ringing phone.

  “Hola,” she answered.

  “Hola, Isabel.”

  She recognized the vampire on the other end of the line. James, head of one of Mexico City’s covens, had a voice that sounded like good wine tasted and a sense of humor that was both irreverent and joyful.

  “I saw you come in, and now there’s a big guy with armor creeping down the street. Should I be worried?”

  Isabel’s heart clenched. “Not yet. Though my trip to Tara didn’t end on the best of terms.”

  “Assassin?”

  “What color is his hair? My cameras aren’t on.” Each house was connected to the hardwired exterior security camera network, and the signal was fed to a series of monitors. Since Bucharest wasn’t in residence, theirs weren’t powered.

  “Light brown. Big guy with a big sword. If you know what I mean.”

  Isabel snorted at the crude joke even as her heart clenched. “No, not an assassin.” At least Isabel didn’t think so. Would her flight from Tara be grounds for an order of execution?

  “Ah, a snack?”

  “James, please don’t feed on the Tuath.”

  “I would never.” His outrage was so fake that Isabel snorted. James’ tone turned serious. “Want me to go out and scare him a bit?”

  “I’ll deal with him, but keep your eye on the camera, just in case.”

  “Got it. I’ll be your back-up 007.”

  Isabel groaned at his terrible British accent and hung up the phone. Leaning forward, she pressed her head against the smooth wall, needing a minute to herself so she could think. Aed had followed her. Why? To kill her? To bring her back to face whatever punishment Fionnin wanted?

  There was only one way to find out, but she didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want to see his face blank and emotionless as it had been when they stood over the servant’s body.

  But what she wanted didn’t matter. She was the Sage of the Bucharest Cabal, and protecting the Vampire was, and always would be, her first priority.

  Steeling herself, Isabel pulled her hair back into a ponytail, tucked a knife into her sleeve, then went out to face Aed.

  Aed’s arm twitched and he fought the urge to draw his sword. He’d never been in the Vampire city before and it was stranger than he could have imagined. The buildings seemed stunted compared to the towers of Tara. The structures were stone and covered in heavy panels of metal, almost as if the buildings wore armor. There were no windows, no courtyards and seemingly no doors. Everything was very square.

  A large domed structure covered the circular court where the road dead-ended, and the shadows under the dome seemed sinister. His night vision was good, his senses highly trained, but he feared that was not enough when dealing with the Vampire. He had no idea how many of Isabel’s people could be hiding in the shadows. The whole city seemed squat and dark, like a great lizard hiding in the shadows of a rock.

  He was nearly to the dome when he heard something behind him.

  Aed spun, drawing his sword as he moved.

  A long figure stood in the center of the road, the moonlight at her back, casting her face in shadow. He knew it was a woman from the shape of her body in the skintight black clothes. She stood with feet spread, one hip cocked, arms akimbo.

  Aed raised the tip of his sword, gaze narrowed. She shifted her weight to the other leg.

  The movement was small, but enough that Aed recognized her.

  “Isabel?”

  The sleek figure before him reminded him more of Cat Sith than the lush, refined beauty who’d fled from Tara only hours ago.

  “Didn’t recognize me?”

  Aed sheathed his sword, letting his gaze travel the length of her body.

  “I, uh, like those…garments.”

  There was a beat of silence, then Isabel laughed. It was not the cruel, dark laughter he’d heard in the servant’s chambers, but a true laugh.

  He walked toward her, only to stop when she held up a hand. “What are you doing here, Aed?”

  “I’ve come to protect you.”

  “You mean take me prisoner.”

  “No. I was charged with protecting you, and I will.”

  She made a considering noise. “And what changed?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I needed protection when I was falsely accused of murder. You did not protect me then. You helped them convict me.”

  “I answered my prince’s questions, nothing more.”

  “Oh, I see. That’s how you’ll justify it. Or maybe you think I killed that poor thing.”

  “No, I do not.”

  The silence was pregnant, seeming to last hours, though it couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds.

  “I saw it in your face.” Isabel’s tone was measured and cool—the tone she’d used when speaking to the royal family. Gone was the more honest speech she’d used with him. “You knew I was innocent, and yet you didn’t speak in my defense.”

  Aed’s stomach tightened—she was right, and he didn’t like it. “I was about to. I thought Cairbe could see your innocence, that nothing would come of the accusations.”

  She shook her head. “Go back to Tara, Aed. You are…you are a good man, and a loyal warrior.”

  Isabel turned her back on him.

  In three long strides Aed was behind her. He grabbed her elbows, pulling her back against him. He hadn’t meant to, but the urge was too strong. His blood hummed with need.

  “I am loyal to the Tuatha de…and I fear that Prince Cairbe and Lord Fionnin’s actions are not in the best interest of my people.”

  Isabel shivered, and Aed wished he were not wearing armor, that he could feel her reaction against his bare flesh. He wished he were the only man who could make her react like this, that he were the only man she wanted, but he knew that could never be.

  Yet, he didn’t love her any less.

  “I am glad you can see the truth.” She pulled against his grip. “But I do not trust you.”

  “Why not?”

  Her gaze searched his face, but she didn’t respond.

  “I’m here to protect you.” The words seemed silly when he saw her now, all sleek muscles and curves.

  “Really? And how far are you willing to go to protect me?”

  “As far as I must.”

  Isabel raised a brow. “Then you’ll come with me?”

  “Where?” Aed considered the options—maybe she’d go to Lir, to try and form an alliance with the king there. If she were trying to salvage the Accords, that would be a logical move. She’d be better served to seek an audience at the Hall of Allen, but Aed wouldn’t suggest that. The idea of Isabel at the Hall of Allen was…terrifying. And she could no
t, under any circumstances, be allowed to go to Aran.

  “I’m going home.”

  Aed blinked. “Home? To…”

  “To Bucharest—to the human world.” Isabel jerked her arms free of his hold.

  Aed was left standing in the middle of the road, blinking. Somehow it had never occurred to him that if he came after her he’d have to go with her to the mortal realm. She stopped beside a decorated panel of metal set into the side of one of the buildings that bordered the road. She laid her hand against the wall and the panel opened.

  It seemed Tara was not the only place with secret doors.

  “Coming?”

  Reminding himself that he was a Fenian and therefore not afraid of anything, including humans, Aed mac Goll followed the vampire.

  It was mean-spirited of Isabel to enjoy Aed’s wide-eyed nervousness. The voiceprint-controlled door hadn’t shocked him, but the retinal scanner had.

  Now he was staring at the portal.

  She wanted to reach up and touch his cheek, kiss him to ease his nerves, but she would not. Aed’s presence was highly suspect. Half a day ago she might have foolishly thought that he really was there to protect her—her knight come to her rescue. Someone must have ordered him to spy on her. Better to keep her eye on him than send him away.

  “I’ll go first and let them know I’m bringing you with me.”

  Isabel took a step, but Aed stopped her. “Is it safe?”

  “For you? I would think so. The Tuatha de created the portals.”

  He frowned at the column of light. “Not for me. For you.”

  Isabel’s treacherous heart clenched at his show of concern. “I’ve used this plenty of times before.”

  “Perhaps I should go first.”

  “A large stranger wearing armor and carrying a sword suddenly appearing in the heart of the Cabal would not be a good thing.”

  He nodded slowly. “How long should I wait?”

  “I’ll wave you through. You’ll be able to see me, same way you can see that chair.”

  This time Isabel couldn’t stop herself from touching his cheek. Aed’s gaze snapped to her, and there was such longing and heartbreak in his eyes that she pulled her hand back. Whatever had been between them was over.

  Isabel stepped into the portal, passing through the wall of energy into Bucharest. For a moment the world spun, her vision nothing but while light. In the next second she was through, her head throbbing as her body adjusted. The air in the human world was thinner, gravity stronger.

  Once she had her bearings, she leaned out the door, put her fingers in her mouth and let out a sharp whistle.

  “I’m bringing one of the Tuatha de Danaan through!” The wood-paneled hall of the massive mansion was empty, but at her whistle several people poked their heads out of various doors. Someone took off running, yelling for the Duke.

  It was an inelegant warning, but the best she could do on short notice.

  Turning back to the portal, Isabel motioned for Aed to come through.

  Chapter Eleven

  Aed watched Isabel—saw her step into the light, then out the other side. She stuck her head out the doorway of the room he could see, then she turned and motioned him forward. He teetered in place, caught between the fear of passing through the portal and leaving his home and the desire to go to Isabel, to see where she was from.

  She beckoned him again. Steeling his resolve, Aed stepped into the column of translucent light. Power crackled around him, his skin tingling. This was powerful magic, concentrated into a small space. He took a breath, drinking it in.

  With the next step he was on the other side.

  The tip of his still-drawn sword hit the floor as if pulled by a magnet. His whole body sagged. Pressure at the back of his head made his brain throb.

  Isabel grabbed him, slipping her arms around him. “You might need a minute to adjust.”

  His armor seemed to have doubled in weight, and all he could do was nod to acknowledge her words. He realized the pressure in the base of his skull was the enchantments and wards he habitually used to protect his mind and increase his ability to sense dangers, the same spells he’d dropped the morning he nearly killed Isabel.

  “Aed, you’re pale. Take a deep breath.”

  The harder he fought to keep the wards in place the more his head hurt. Aed couldn’t stand it any longer. With a grunt he released the spells. The pain in his head vanished, though he still felt sick.

  Footsteps heralded the arrival of a new person. “Is it my birthday? The winter solstice? This is quite a present.”

  Aed forced himself upright at the sound of a stranger’s voice. He pushed Isabel behind him, saying a quick prayer to Danu that his body would obey if he had to defend Isabel.

  “Is he protecting you? How do you always get the good assignments?” The speaker was a tall, slim woman with dark skin. She had very short hair, and her eyes and teeth seemed very white in contrast to her flesh.

  “Hi, Morowa.” Isabel slid out from behind him, reversing their positions so she was in front. “He’s one of the Tuatha de.”

  The dark woman leaned to the side to get an unobstructed view, her smile showing off her fangs. Aed held his shoulders back, letting her look, hoping his appearance did honor to the Fianna.

  “Of course he’s off limits.” Morowa shook her head.

  “It’s his first time.”

  “Using a portal?”

  “No, in the human world.”

  “Oh.” The other woman lost the wide smile. “You better get him to a bed.”

  “Exactly. Can you clear the way?”

  “Of course, my Sage.” Morowa bowed deeply, then backed out the door.

  Aed was confused by their exchange, but despite relief from the headache, he felt worse with each breath, not better.

  “Can you sheathe your sword?” Isabel asked.

  Aed’s hands shook, but he managed it with Isabel’s help. She pulled one of his arms across her shoulders, put a hand on his waist and then guided him out the door. Aed tried to note his surroundings—the gleaming dark wood floors, partially covered by rugs in rich jewel tones, wood paneling on the lower parts of the walls with gold and cream paper above—but his energy was focused on trying not to throw up. He hadn’t thrown up since he was a child.

  Isabel’s strength was put to the test as she hauled him down the wide, stately hallway, so unlike the cold stone of Tara. They turned a few times, passing countless closed doors, before Morowa motioned them into a room. Aed nearly wept when he saw the bed.

  “Morowa, hold him up while I get him out of his armor.”

  The dark-skinned woman took his hands, placing them on her shoulders. Aed tried to pull away, but the woman only laughed. “Don’t worry, big man, I can smell Isabel on you. I won’t poach.”

  “Speak French. He doesn’t understand Romanian.”

  Aed wanted to say that he had understood the woman—not every word, but enough.

  Bit by bit Isabel stripped him of his armor. The relief when it was off was immense. Together the women maneuvered him onto the bed. Once he was lying on his back, Morowa left, closing the chamber door.

  The last thing he saw before sleep claimed him was Isabel throwing open floor-to-ceiling drapes. Late afternoon sunlight filled the room, bathing her in gold.

  “You’re alive.”

  Isabel heard the words the moment before she was captured by Aed’s strong arms. He stared down at her, an emotion she didn’t recognize burning in his eyes. Before she could ask what he was talking about, his lips covered hers. He kissed her almost desperately.

  Caged by his arms, held in place by his kiss, there was no escape. Isabel was overwhelmed, consumed. His body was warm and hard against hers, his need battering at her, making it difficult—no, impossible—to remember that she couldn’t tr
ust him. That her feelings for him were dangerous.

  Pulling one arm free of his hold, she cupped his cheek, gentling him. His hold relaxed and she was able to wrap both arms around his neck. She changed the angle of the kiss, sucking gently on the tip of his tongue. That was enough to have arousal pooling in her belly and her fangs descending. She tried to pull back, but he didn’t let her.

  Aed caught her lower lip with his teeth, sucking on it, then drew his head back slowly so his teeth scraped over her throbbing flesh.

  Their gazes met, their panting breaths mingled.

  Isabel shoved back, the movement fast enough that she caught Aed by surprise. He took a half step in retreat, brows beetling as he turned his head away.

  Isabel wiped her lips, then forced herself to laugh as if that kiss hadn’t meant anything.

  “I guess you’re feeling better.”

  Aed folded his arms across his chest, the muscles of his upper body bulging. “I thought you…I thought you died.”

  Isabel frowned, more than a little confused. It had only been a few hours since she’d left him sleeping.

  “Before I closed my eyes I saw you standing in the sun.” There was a hollowness to his voice.

  Isabel’s heart melted. She was a fool. “I’m fine, Aed.” She took his hand, drawing him to the glass balcony doors of his room. “Here, feel that?” She placed his hand against the glass.

  He frowned. “It’s rough.”

  “UV film.”

  “What is ‘UV film’?” He enunciated carefully, his accent delightful.

  “It’s a coating for the glass that filters out part of the sunlight—the part that hurts us the most. Young vampires have to avoid all sun, but I can stand it for a few minutes.”

  He ran his hand over the door glass. “It’s magic?”

  “Human technology.”

  “If you have this why would you need help from the Tuatha de?”

  “This is new technology, and it has to be very carefully installed. Not all human glass has it, and we still can’t go outside.” She smiled and threw open the doors. “Unless it’s night.”

  Aed followed her onto the marble balcony. Isabel took a deep breath, tasting the human city on the air. Beside her Aed rested his hands on the carved rail, staring out over the lights of Bucharest.

 

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