Carnal Magic: The Wraith Accords, Book 1

by Lila Dubois

  Aed’s lips twitched. He’d grown up in the Hill of Allen, with many forays to court, both at Tara and in the other kingdoms. He knew how to tell when someone was speaking without saying anything or making a compliment an insult. He wasn’t skilled at such subterfuge himself, but he recognized it.

  She’d put him in his place, reminded him of their treaty and insulted him, all with a tone of gentle question. Isabel was as proficient as any he’d ever met. The court would find themselves in trouble if they underestimated her.

  “I think it no secret that the Wraith Accords are somewhat controversial among the Tuatha de.”

  “A pretty understatement, Sir Aed.”

  He couldn’t help it. He laughed. When he looked down at Isabel her eyes were wide, her lips parted, showing just a hint of fang.

  She looked almost…hungry.

  His laughter died. “Lady Isabel?” As part of the Accords the Vampire had been forbidden from feeding on the Tuatha de.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It wasn’t until then that he realized that she did breathe, another thing he’d thought the Vampire didn’t do.

  “Tell me, Sir Aed, are all Tuatha de Danaan as compelling as you?”

  “Compelling, my lady?”

  She raised a brow. “Surely you would not pretend not to know your own beauty?”

  “I am not beautiful.”

  She smiled with her lips closed. “Handsome, then.”

  “Nor am I handsome. I am a warrior of the Fianna.”

  “And what does that have to do with how attractive I find you?”

  Aed stiffened. “I do not enjoy games of this sort.”

  Isabel pursed her lips. It was growing brighter as they reached the end of the road, where the castle gates waited. There was some green among the thorns now, and Aed noticed a cluster of blackberries. Either the High Queen or Tara itself had taken time to assess Isabel as they walked and was softening toward her.

  “Then I must assume that you are not considered handsome among your people.”

  Aed’s steps faltered, and he reminded himself to watch what he said and did. She was too perceptive.

  Her reaction surprised him. She laughed. It was a deep, true laugh, a sound full of life and happiness. She stopped and Aed turned to face her, their arms still linked. Around them the brambles came to life, leaves and small white flowers bursting from the rough-skinned vines.

  “I know I should not,” Isabel said as her laughter faded, “but I am looking forward to this. What kind of place, and what kind of creatures, have a man as handsome as you thinking you’re not…” Her lips twitched, and she ran her gaze over him, starting at his feet and moving up to his face “…delectable?”

  Before Aed could respond, a bell tolled. The pure, sweet sound drew the attention of all who could hear it.

  “The gates are opening.” He gently turned her to face forward. “Now we enter in truth.”

  Her mirth was gone, replaced by a stillness that was at once dangerous and non-threatening.

  Aed had been tasked with meeting the vampire and taking her to her quarters in the castle, and remaining with her as a guard for as long as she was in Tara. Unless he sensed that she was a threat. Then he was to kill her. Aed was thankful that he didn’t have a reason to do that.

  His orders included nothing about advising or helping her, but when he felt her inch closer to him, a subconscious gesture of nervousness and fear, he bent his head to whisper in her ear.

  “The gardens and halls of the castle can be a dangerous place. All know you are coming, so anyone we meet will have sought you out and be looking to test you. I will take you to your chamber until it is time for you to go before the High King and Queen.”

  She nodded.

  In front of them the tall, arched doors in the castle wall opened.

  Isabel tightened her hold on Aed’s arm. She knew he was not her friend or ally, knew that he was probably sent to meet her because he had the capacity to kill her, and yet she trusted him.

  Their conversation as they walked down the grim, thorny road had been a pleasure, one she had not expected. Now that they were at the castle gates, the vines were lush and green, with sweet, fat blackberries studded throughout, and yet she felt fear for the first time.

  Because the vines arched above her head, stopping only a matter of feet from the stone wall the gate was set into, she didn’t get a good look at the castle’s defenses. She couldn’t even see the entirety of the gates, which were at least two stories tall and seemed to be made of single slabs of carved stone. The intricate whirls and knots of the carvings gave off a pulse of energy, and Isabel guessed they were some form of protective magic.

  They swung inward, seemingly without any assistance. She expected another gatekeeper or guard to pop up, but there was nothing.

  The tolling bell fell silent.

  “Follow me.” Aed dropped her arm. She felt naked without his strong presence at her side.

  Aed preceded her through the gate, and Isabel followed close on his heels.

  The castle wall was at least twenty feet thick, judging by the tunnel they passed through. The high, arched walls were covered with more of the protective carvings, but she didn’t miss the dark, square openings at the top of the arch. Murder holes—used to pour boiling water or oil down on invaders. She wondered if the Tuatha de Danaan had taught the humans that particular trick.

  On the far side of the tunnel was another set of gates, this one of metal. They too swung open, and Isabel was struck by how unnecessary such elaborate defenses were. The Tuatha de Danaan had created this dimension—Fae—and controlled it. It was on Earth, and time moved at roughly the same speed as it did in the human dimension, yet it was its own physical reality, with different landmasses, different oceans. If it was a world of their making and under their control, what enemies were they defending themselves against? These walls had been here long before the Vampire came to Fae.

  The Wraith Accords, signed two hundred years ago by leaders of Vampire and the Tuatha de Danaan, had granted Vampires access to this world. The Plain of Moytura now held a Vampire city, in which there were doorways leading to key places in the human world, including the cities where each of the major Cabals were. Isabel didn’t fully understand what the Tuatha de Danaan had gained in return for this, but she knew it had something to do with the fact that the Tuatha de had found it harder and harder to enter the human realm, and as their connection to the humans faded so did their power.

  How exactly she and her people fixed that problem Isabel wasn’t sure, though she’d be delighted to find out. That would be powerful information to take back to her Cabal. She’d always suspected that Duke Drakul knew more than he would say. He’d negotiated and signed the Wraith Accords with the High King of the Tuatha de Danaan.

  As she stepped out of the tunnel, Isabel’s breath caught in her throat.

  This castle did not boast a simple courtyard inside its walls. A view unlike anything she’d ever seen, maybe even beyond what she could imagine, stretched before her.

  “This is the midnight garden, and that—” he pointed to the top of a hill on the far side of the garden, “—is Tara, the heart of Fae, seat of the High King and Queen of the Tuatha de Danaan.” Here the moonlight shone dully on his armor and painted the planes of his face with silver light. His eyes were so blue, they seemed to glow. But even the handsome warrior was not enough to distract Isabel from the awe-inspiring sight before her.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Maybe she should have tried to hide her wonder, but she could not bring herself to turn away and deny herself this moment. She’d never expected to feel this sense of awe again. She thought she’d seen or imagined all the world had to offer. How wrong she’d been.

  A delicate stone castle, seeming to grow from the top of the hill at the c
enter of the enormous courtyard garden, was a white silhouette against the night sky. It was a massive structure, with more buildings than she could count and at least twenty delicate towers. Slender arched bridges connected it all like the silk strands of a spider’s web. The castle seemed to glow in the moonlight, the stones every shade of blue and purple.

  All around the base of the castle was a sheer vertical cliff, as if the hill had been cut away to raw stone, making the castle impenetrable from below.

  Between the bottom of the hill and where she stood was a park-like garden at least twenty acres large bisected by a white stone road. The plants on either side were shades of midnight blue, black, deep green and purple. Pathways of pale stone wound to white-domed gazebos. Ponds, both small and nearly large enough to be called lakes, were covered in lily pads and dotted with the thick-petaled, waxy white flowers. Twisted black trees supported canopies of royal blue wisteria. Globes of light, as large as a fortuneteller’s ball, lined the main path, each one floating at knee height. Strands of smaller lights dangled from the trees and sparkled under the surface of a few of the ponds.

  “You’re crying,” Aed said.

  Isabel touched her cheek, pulled her hand away to look at the dampness on her fingers.

  It was a stupid waste to cry. There was water in the blood she drank, but it was hard for her body to produce something like tears. She was old enough that she could drink water if needed, though it was far from a pleasant experience.

  “The beauty of this place touches me. I hadn’t imagined that I could be surprised again. I have lived a long time.”

  Aed bowed to her, and another tear rolled down Isabel’s cheek.

  When he straightened he said, “You honor this place with such a tribute.”

  “The honor is mine.”

  Aed smiled, a tentative twitch of his lips. “I too have lived a long time and still am surprised.”

  “And what surprises you, Sir Aed?”

  Their gazes met. “You do, Lady Isabel.”

  Chapter Two

  Isabel took a breath—the air tasted like growing things, yet she could easily pick out the scent of the warrior at her side. He smelled like oil and metal, and rich, rich blood. Below that was the scent of man, both reminiscent of, and nothing like, that of a human male. The desire for him swelled in her. Isabel felt her nipples harden under the tight bodice of her gown.

  She wondered if the impression he gave on their walk—that he was not considered handsome among his people—was true. It could be a ruse to gain her sympathy, in which case it had worked to some degree. Aed was devastatingly handsome. She’d never seen a more kissable pair of lips on a man. She pitied him only in that if it was true that he was not thought of as handsome the Tuatha de Danaan must be both very beautiful and very rude. All he’d need to do to know his worth would be to spend a single day in the human world, where he would be a god among men.

  It was no surprise they’d once been hailed as exactly that.

  “We should go.” He gestured to the castle.

  “Of course.” Isabel ran her tongue over her fangs as she followed him along the globe-lined path.

  Once or twice she thought she saw something moving in the garden, but as fast as she was she couldn’t catch sight of them—whatever they were.

  “More than plants live in this garden,” she said.

  “Of course,” was his reply.

  They reached a small structure at the base of the cliff atop which the castle sat. Fifty feet above them, the verdant green stopped abruptly, giving way to sheer rock that looked smooth as glass.

  “From here I have to blindfold you.” Aed drew her into the guardhouse. It was empty except for a stone pillar in the center of the room, directly under a skylight. A blindfold waited in the shaft of moonlight.

  Isabel nodded her consent as Aed picked it up, bringing it to her. He stood close enough that her skirts covered his feet.

  “I will not let any harm come to you while you’re without sight,” he said softly.

  Isabel touched his cheek, watched him stiffen at the contact. “I know.”

  Then he was sliding the blindfold over her eyes and tying it behind her head. Isabel closed her eyes behind the fabric to help herself concentrate. If she needed to leave in a hurry she wanted to be able to retrace her steps.

  Aed placed her hand on his arm. “Follow me.” They exited the small gatehouse, took five steps, turned right, then started up a long flight of stairs, Aed guiding her up each step.

  Aed caught Isabel as she fell. The magic woven into the blindfold was working. When he pulled it off, setting it back on the pedestal, he could see her eyes moving behind her eyelids.

  She would have a memory of their trek from the garden up into the castle, a false memory created by her expectations. There were those who visited Tara who told stories of dragons and monsters guarding the castle, none of it true except in their own minds.

  He bent and placed a hand under her knees. As he lifted her, her cloak fell open, revealing the fitted dress she wore. Her breasts were firm mounds above the top of it, her narrow waist making her décolletage and hips seem all the more lush.

  Aed had a vivid image of her on her knees before him, bound and helpless, his to use as he pleased and as it pleased her.

  Gritting his teeth, he pushed the image away and willed open the door that led to the castle. The wall across from them parted, stone sliding smoothly into a recess to reveal the ever-present gateway on the other side.

  He did his best to stay away from the politics of the court and from the sexual games of power and submission favored by most of the Tuatha de Danaan. He was a solider, a man of honor, and preferred the peace and solitude favored by the Hill of Allen when he was not called to guard one of the royal family. He winced, remembering the time he’d spent in service to the Princess of Winter.

  He needed to focus. They were about to enter the belly of this beautiful beast—and he was carrying a very dangerous person, one whom he both distrusted and wanted to protect.

  Mind cleared of distractions, Aed tightened his hold on the vampire and stepped through the gateway.

  Isabel opened her eyes, blinking to focus her vision.

  “Lady Isabel?”

  She turned to Aed, who was standing beside her. “There weren’t as many stairs as I thought.” She brushed at the hem of her cloak. It had taken them less than ten minutes of climbing—and two hundred and fourteen stairs by her count—to reach the top.

  “Where are we?” she asked, looking around. They were in a square room. It was a grand space, with a polished marble floor, towering glass ceiling and curved columns that looked like flower stems supporting the glass above. Torches circled the columns at head height, but only one was lit.

  Aed lifted it down and she saw that the stone handle was topped not by fire, but by another glowing orb like those they’d seen in the garden.

  “This is one of the entry halls.”

  “One of?”

  “This castle is as old as Fae. I do not know all of it myself, and I would say there are few who do.”

  They passed under the squares of moonlight, leaving the entry room for a large hallway. Their path twisted and turned, taking them along wide stone hallways, across sky bridges where the wind whipped Isabel’s hair and cloak, up and down stairways both straight and spiraled, and through courtyard gardens so lush and vibrant that Isabel couldn’t stop herself from slowing her pace to examine the flora. Once she looked back only to see that the opening they’d just come through was gone, a solid wall in its place.

  With a rueful smile Isabel realized how naïve it was to think she could find her way out of here on her own. A seed of trepidation rooted in her belly, but she pushed it aside.

  They entered a courtyard, the largest they’d passed through so far. Towering trees with trunks and protru
ding roots like banyans sat in the four corners, while a circular tiled mosaic floor took up the center of the square, its colors muted in the shadow of the trees.

  Aed stiffened, then motioned for her to use a path along the edge rather than pass through the center. Something about his posture was different, and Isabel responded to his nonverbal signals—examining the courtyard for danger lurking in the shadows and root hollows. There was nothing there.

  “Aed, my friend. Won’t you introduce me to our guest?”

  Standing in the center of the mosaic, where there had been no one a moment before, was a tall, golden-haired man.

  He waved his hand and lights flared to life in the canopy of the trees, bright as sunlight.

  Isabel hissed, falling back a step before she could stop herself. The golden-haired male focused on her.

  “Fear not, vampire. There is no sunlight here.” His words were musical to the point of being song, his accent making the French words sound even more lyrical than they already were.

  Aed dropped to one knee, torch still held in one hand. “My Prince.”

  Isabel looked from him to the figure. The golden-haired man seemed to be waiting, but Isabel knew her manners. Until introductions were made she would not curtsey.

  The golden-haired man raised a brow. “Aed, introduce us.” He spoke in a language Isabel didn’t recognize, but she knew enough to pick out the words. It must be the language of the Tuatha de Danaan, which was the root of the human Celtic languages. Luckily Isabel had made a point of learning some of those, including Gaulish, which hadn’t survived to modern times, and Irish and Welsh, which humans still spoke.

  She kept her face neutral, looking between the men as if she did not understand him.

  Aed lifted his head, though he remained on one knee. “Prince Cairbe, this is Lady Isabel, Sage of the Bucharest Cabal and Counselor to Duke Drakul.” Her titles rolled smoothly off his tongue in French. Aed turned his head enough to look at her, and his eyes were hard and full of warning. “Lady Isabel, this is Prince Cairbe, Lord of Spring and oldest child of High King Cormac and High Queen Albha.”