Ghost Phoenix

by Corrina Lawson

  “Protecting me shouldn’t be necessary. And don’t let the Queen see that worship in your eyes. She’ll bowl you over if you let her.”

  “Good advice.”

  They pulled up to the Court’s residence, the French Quarter house that seemed familiar and foreign at the same time. He’d been absent for years and was now back for the second time in a month, but this visit had a distinct purpose.

  Only Marshal was privy to their plan. They must surprise their traitor. If she knew that she was a suspect, she might flee before they could question her. The only issue was danger to the Queen, but they had Marian to whisk her away. And, besides, now that they’d been careful to stop any further depressants from getting into her system via the doctored pills, the Queen was near to becoming able to take care of herself.

  Not that anyone but Marshal knew that yet.

  Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine would love the show that was about to happen.

  Without thinking, Richard crushed the armrest with his fingers. Evil, that was all he could call it, drugging the Queen with medicine that would literally cause lethargy and chip away at her will to live. Eleanor and everyone else had trusted her handmaidens, trusted to her force of personality to win loyalty. But it seemed she had a rival in Rasputin.

  He wondered if Marshal would let the guilty party live. Richard wasn’t sure he would.

  Daz stepped of the car first and scanned the street for danger. Satisfied, he opened the door for Richard and Marian.

  Richard put his hand on Daz’s shoulder. “Thank you for coming.”

  “Wouldn’t miss this party.”

  Richard went first, with Marian’s arm in his. Winscott met him at the door again, and Richard announced loudly that he had come to present his ladylove to the Queen.

  At his urging, Marian had dressed like him, in California casual wear, so as to appear as unsuitable as he was. It was his own little joke.

  When told the Queen was still failing, Richard waved away Winscott’s concern.

  “Dude, no worries. We’ll be quick.”

  He started up the steps with his party.

  “Quite the setup,” Daz said, turning around. “Is that painting hanging in the foyer you?”

  “Edward, my brother,” Richard said.

  “You did look alike,” Marian said. “But I think that’s the only resemblance.”

  Richard smiled.

  “So why are your people in New Orleans?” Daz asked.

  “It’s a little bit French, a little bit odd, and full of life and culture. Much like the Queen’s native land.”

  As on his earlier visit, Greta waited in the receiving room for visitors.

  Richard explained their errand and passed off Daz as Marian’s brother.

  “Brother? Really?” Greta raised her eyebrows.

  Marian smiled. “We had different mothers.”

  “I see.” She cleared her throat. “The doctor is here. Marshal called for him this morning. He sounded so worried. The news is likely to be bad.” She stared at the floor.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Richard said. Marshal had played his part well. “Then come inside with us, Greta. We need all the witnesses we can gather for our announcement.”

  He kissed Marian full on the lips. She responded. A calculated gesture to cover his real purpose and distract Greta. But not an act. Kissing Marian would never be an act. As soon as this was over, he was taking his angel to California, where they wouldn’t be disturbed for weeks. Well, days, at least.

  Greta set down her needlework, all the while glaring at Marian. “Richard is a prince and can do as he wishes, whether I like it or not. But visitors to the Queen shouldn’t be so…brazen.”

  Marian shrugged. “Sorry, I’ve just discovered I’m not good at following orders.”

  Richard opened the door for her. They entered the Queen’s bedchamber together, Daz and Greta following.

  Daz seemed relaxed, though he must be alert.

  Marian squeezed Richard’s hand.

  “Nervous?” he asked. “Don’t be. This should go smoothly.”

  “I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about meeting William Marshal, the greatest knight of the Middle Ages, and Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine.”

  Fresh air wafted from the open window, making this a much different room than the one he’d entered the last time.

  The Queen’s bed curtains were closed. Marshal stood watch at the foot of the bed. Doctor Samnee stood near the window, talking quietly with Jason FitzHugh, the herald, and Joanna, the other handmaiden. Greta moved over to speak to her sister.

  A moan sounded from behind the bed curtains.

  “Melodramatic as always, My Queen,” Richard said.

  “Enough, Richard, of your disrespect,” Marshal said. “Greta! Bring me the Queen’s medication. Quickly now! She’s in pain.”

  Greta opened the top drawer of a wardrobe bureau, took out a bottle of pills and rushed over to the Marshal. He took the bottle and pushed aside the bed curtains.

  The Queen was sitting up. Her cheeks had color and her lips were far less cracked and ravaged by time. Weight still needed to be added to her frame, but the Queen was herself again.

  “God’s eyes, you look good,” Richard said.

  “Yes, I know,” the Queen said, serene. “No thanks to you, Greta, my dear handmaiden.”

  Greta shrank back. “My Queen! They said you were dying. They wouldn’t let me see you. But you’re better! Thank the merciful God!” She put her hand dramatically over her heart.

  “No, thank Richard, his woman and my Marshal,” Eleanor said. “Not you.”

  Greta backed off several more steps. “I don’t understand. Has my service been unsatisfactory, my Queen?”

  “Yes, you’re going to see just how unsatisfactory.”

  Daz blocked the door. Marshal brought the pill bottle over to the doctor. “Can you tell me if this is the medication you prescribed, Dr. Samnee?”

  Samnee put on glasses to examine the bottle. “This is the proper prescription, yes.”

  “Look at the pills inside,” Marshal said.

  The doctor opened the bottle and spilled the pills into his palm. Richard watched Greta, hoping to catch the exact moment she knew that she was found out.

  “These are not the medicines I prescribed,” Samnee said. “These are depressants! No wonder the Queen can’t shake her melancholy.”

  Fear, anger and a chilled smile appeared on Greta’s face.

  Richard grabbed her shoulder. “I know, Doctor. Greta’s been filling a separate prescription for depressants and exchanging those pills for the Queen’s medicine. The question is why.”

  “You people don’t deserve my devotion,” Greta said through clenched teeth.

  “So who does?” Daz asked.

  Greta knocked Richard’s hand from her shoulder and rounded on him so fast that she struck him a glancing blow that sent him spinning. Where did she get that strength?

  She ran to the open window, obviously intending to dive out.

  He leapt and tackled her. They slammed into the wall just below the window. Wood splintered. He paid no attention, using all his strength to hold her from behind.

  “You’re as strong as I am,” he said.

  “Do you think He would ask an ordinary mortal for help?” Greta snapped her head back, trying to hit his face but just missed his chin. She kicked and put more holes in the wall.

  “You can’t hold me!” she screamed.

  “I can.” Marian stuck a ghostly hand into Greta and kept it there. The woman stopped struggling, her eyes wide in terror.

  “That’s for Rasputin dropping a mountain on me!”

  Marian did…something. Greta went still, and Marian withdrew her arm.

  “Did you kill her?” Richard said in a low w
hisper.

  “No, I just gave her heart a massage. It should keep her out for a while.” Marian held her arm against her chest, as if shocked by what she’d just done. “Great-Aunt Eunice taught me how to do that, with animals. She said I had to practice in case it was the only way to save my life someday. I was going to do it to Rasputin, but he let loose the fireball before I could.” Marian’s face was pale, her eyes wide.

  “You did well, Marian Doyle,” the Queen said from her bed.

  Marian only nodded. Richard rose, pulled her into his arms and held her tight.

  Marshal picked up the unconscious Greta from the floor. Daz had already put handcuffs on Joanna.

  “I had no idea what my sister was doing!” Joanna said.

  “If that’s true, you’ll be free quickly,” Marshal said. “I have a place to hold her. ” He nodded at the Queen. “With your leave, Your Grace.”

  “Of course, William.”

  He carried the unconscious woman out of the room. Daz followed with Joanna in tow. Marshal would undoubtedly modify Greta’s cell to hold someone with her strength.

  Maybe he would drug her with the medicines she’d fed the Queen.

  Richard looked at two men remaining in the room. “Doctor, Herald, if you could give us a moment?”

  They obeyed without question and left.

  He and Marian were alone with the Queen.

  She sat straighter in her bed than even a few minutes ago.

  “You gambled with my life, Richard, when you allied with the Phoenix Institute. You knew they were Edward’s killers.”

  Richard put his arm around Marian. “If I hadn’t, we would instead be allied with the man responsible for poisoning you with psychiatric medication. We would have done exactly as Rasputin planned and walked into his trap.”

  “Greta is one of his followers?”

  “So her financial records made clear. It was she who obtained the other medications, then swapped them for the antibiotics the doctor originally prescribed. As you became weaker and he gave your more meds, she switched those to give you a higher dose and—”

  “And the medications affected my brain, preventing me from accessing my healing ability.”

  “Yes.”

  “If you had followed my orders to bring him here at all costs, Rasputin may have eventually decided to kill me.”

  “He certainly intended to control you,” Richard said.

  She nodded. “It seems the wayward prince has grown into a capable king.”

  He knelt next her bed. “I would never usurp your place, my Queen.”

  She set her hand on his head. “I know. But you have earned one of your own. You wish changes. We will have to speak of them.” She removed her hand and looked past him. “Now, tell me about this one. She is quite fascinating.”

  “Angelic,” he said.

  The Queen smiled. “Just so.”

  Epilogue

  Marian trusted Richard. It was the only reason she was standing here, in this alien place, waiting for the arrival of his Queen. When he said she would be presented to the whole court, she pictured a room in the New Orleans home, not this vast room in the estate outside New Orleans. It appeared this was the Queen’s regular home and she had only moved to her private residence to be closer to medical care.

  Richard took her hand and leaned closer. “Are you going to sink through the floor, Angel?”

  “That had occurred to me.” She looked around. The entire court stood in the Queen’s reception hall. She’d expected ten, maybe twenty, people. Instead, there must be at least a hundred.

  “Where’s your Marshal?” William Marshal, for all that he was as old as the Queen, was far less imposing and much more friendly. He made her feel welcome.

  “Marshal will be here when the Queen arrives.”

  Around them, people were covertly—and not so covertly—studying them. She was safe in the background. She liked being in the background. It was disconcerting to be the center of attention.

  “Is Marshal, um, with the Queen?” She had been dying to ask that one. It seemed like they were, especially the way Marshal clearly adored her, but the Queen’s true feelings were buried deeper.

  Richard raised his eyebrow. “Hmm…no one asks. In the end, it does not matter. He is the Queen’s man.”

  “Her servant?”

  “More like her will, his actions or the seal to her matrix,” Richard answered.

  “Bonded forever, then.”

  “Yes.”

  Marian resisted the urge to adjust her dress, and only the thought of everyone seeing that stopped her. The silk felt as if it would slide off her shoulder at any moment. Silk. So showy. She never thought she would long for the boring blouses and pencil skirts she wore at Doyle Antiquities.

  But no one with Richard could ever hide. And she was done with that too.

  Everyone was dressed in their best. Expensive tailored suits for the men, beautiful and inventive dresses for the women. The Queen loved a show, Richard had said.

  Richard wore his elegance like a second skin. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. She sighed happily. Around them, she heard the murmurs.

  “You’re mine. They should know that,” he said.

  “Do you know them all well?”

  “Some of them. Most aren’t immortal, you know. They’re from families that have psychic abilities who have served us through the years, as your family has. Some were equally in the dark about the Court as you,” Richard said. “I felt it was time to remove some of this mystery.”

  “So are any of these court members hired muscle like me?” Daz returned with a champagne flute for each of them. Marian saluted him with her glass.

  “None like you, my friend,” Richard said.

  Daz shone in his new suit but his discomfort in the clothing was evident. And he knew it. “Damn, this is the most lily-white crowd I’ve ever been in. Does your Queen have something against us, um…non-Europeans?”

  Richard’s good humor faded. “She pulls the familiar around herself like a shield. Another point on where we disagreed previously. But she’ll come around.”

  “You think? My parents don’t like change, and they’re a lot younger than your Queen.” Daz pulled at the knot in his tie. “I never much liked my dress whites but at least they didn’t have a tie.”

  “You look perfect,” Marian said.

  Daz kissed her cheek. Like a brother, she thought, glad that they were at this place. She adored him. She’d never had a brother. She wanted one.

  “What’s the latest on the search for Rasputin and his people?” she asked.

  “Alec and Drake pulled all the strings they have to gain the help of various European law-enforcement agencies. We know Rasputin’s pulled out of Idar-Oberstein but not where he went. Richard, did you and Beth get anything from Greta?”

  “Some promising leads about his finances. If we can’t catch him yet, we can hamper his ability to act. Wars have been won and lost because of the lack of funding,” Richard said. “He’ll poke his head out when he’s desperate enough, and then we’ll be able to act.”

  “He’s still formidable,” Marian said.

  “He lost this battle and his best chance to divide his enemies. We’ll get him.”

  “Amen.” Daz raised his glass of wine. “To past and future victories.”

  “Agreed,” Richard said.

  Daz looked around at the crowd eyeing them. “So, how long do I have to stand here on exhibit before she shows?”

  “Until Eleanor of Aquitaine is ready and not before. She always did like to make an entrance.”

  “Do you think she’s serious about making you her formal heir?” Daz asked.

  “We shall see,” Richard said. “I’m not sure I want to be her heir. I might be Americanized enough to want democra
cy. I’m more worried about whether she’ll announce our new alliance with the Phoenix Institute. She can hold a grudge like no one else.”

  “But Alec helped save your life,” Marian said.

  “That might be enough to mitigate Edward’s death, but it might not.” He put an arm around Marian. “In any case, I have no regrets.”

  Daz shook his head. “In my experience, some commanding officers don’t like the grunts on the ground making choices for them. Especially when that choice impacts their life.”

  “She cannot take my angel from me. That’s all the home I need.”

  She sighed. Daz rolled his eyes at her. She stuck out her tongue at him and sipped her champagne before she giggled.

  Her dream prince assured her that his Queen meant her no harm but she half wondered if Richard had asked Daz to be present as added protection.

  But, no, she wasn’t worried for herself. She was worried for Richard.

  He chose what I wanted over his Queen and her court.

  For someone used to being worshipped, like Eleanor of Aquitaine, taking second place to a mere mortal could be a nasty blow. Especially now that she was fully recovered.

  “Peace, Angel,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ve found it, after so many years. And we’ll have it after tonight, one way or another.”

  She had peace on her end, at least. Her father had called. She’d poured out all her resentment and frustration about the family calling to him. He was going to step back for a while and leave her be. He was even going to run interference with his father for her.

  After so many years, she finally understood why her mother had been so opposed to her using her phantom ability. It was a power but also a responsibility, as the comic-book saying went. She had only just begun to decide how to use it herself. But now she had some ideas, the first of which included rescue of people trapped underground due to earthquakes, floods or bombings.

  She had time. Time to decide what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. And time with Richard.

  A tall man dressed in a gray suit walked out from the far door of the hall. He carried a pole with a standard attached to the top and knocked it hard against the parquet floor to gather attention. She recognized him as one of the men who’d been in the Queen’s bedroom when they’d captured Greta.