Bound By Sin (A Cin Craven Novel) Page 14

  “He’s here!” she was shouting in my ear. “Adrien is in Claire’s room and Pandora’s screaming that he’s killed her! Hurry!”

  I jumped out of bed and grabbed my dressing gown, throwing it over my naked body as I shouted for Michael and ran out the door. As I rushed down the hall I could clearly hear Pandora and I cursed myself for sleeping so soundly for the first time in weeks.

  “You couldn’t get it from me so you bought it off some no-good bokor in Savannah, is that it?” she was yelling. “How much did you give her? How much?”

  Unmindful of the sunlight that splashed across the wood floors only a few feet from me, I grasped the knob of Claire’s bedroom door. It was locked but the bolt was not strong enough to keep out an angry vampire.

  “She’s with child and you’ve probably just murdered them both!” Pandora shrieked as I burst into the room.

  Claire was lying on the bed, her eyes open. I ran to her, grateful to see the rise and fall of her chest.

  “Claire!” I pleaded, “Can you hear me?”

  Boucher grabbed Pandora by the wrist and dragged her toward the balcony door.

  I turned my head to them. “Let her go or I’ll kill you where you stand,” I said.

  “She’s mine and she comes with me,” Adrien sneered.

  Pandora turned defiantly to him. “I’m yours no longer, master. And you’ll burn in God’s own fire for what you’ve done to that poor girl.”

  Michael ran into the room, wearing nothing more than a pair of breeches that weren’t entirely buttoned and clutching one of my knives in his fist. He took one look at Adrien and rushed forward. Adrien shoved Pandora toward him and dashed out onto the balcony. Michael drew up short, stepping back from the pool of sunlight with a menacing growl.

  Adrien smiled and he seemed to possess more teeth than a man ought to. It only added to the oily quality he had about him.

  “I told you this was not over,” he said triumphantly.

  Just as Michael drew back his arm back, Claire started moaning and thrashing about. It was enough to throw his aim off a few inches. The blade sank into Boucher’s shoulder instead of his heart. He staggered backward, looking down at the knife in shock. It was one of my favorites and I was thankful when he pulled it free and dropped it to the floor. I would have been more thankful if he’d fallen with it. Instead, he crawled awkwardly over the porch railing, dropping down into the azaleas below with a prolific amount of cursing.

  Too late I saw the satchel he had slung over one shoulder. I looked at the empty spot on Claire’s nightstand.

  “Oh, for the love of Danu! He’s got the urn!” I cried. “We have to stop him.”

  Michael turned and motioned toward the sunlight. “How do you propose we do that?”

  I growled in frustration. “There has to be someone here who can shoot that blighter!”

  “The men are all in the fields,” Pandora said. “We’re the only ones near the house and I don’t know how to shoot no gun.”

  “It’s too late anyway,” Michael said, looking out the window. “We’ll have to go after him tonight and hope he hasn’t gotten far.”

  I should have done something, I thought angrily. Perhaps if Michael hadn’t had me so tied up in knots about my magic, I would have reacted as I should have. At the time, however, my first concern had been for Claire. I looked down at the girl lying helpless in my arms.

  “Pandora, what did he do to her?” I asked.

  She walked to the bed and picked up an empty vial lying on the floor. “Jimson weed,” she said. “And I don’t know how much.”

  “What does it do?”

  Pandora shook her head and rushed to the get the washbasin. “Depends on how much he managed to force her to swallow,” she replied as we rolled Claire over and made her throw up into the basin. “And how much we can get outta her before it’s too late. Most likely, she’s in for a bad few days, but she’ll be fine . . . if it don’t kill her.”

  “That’s not encouraging,” I snapped, wondering how much of the poison was even now rushing through Claire’s blood.

  “It ain’t meant to be,” Pandora said. “Jimson weed is bad stuff. When Miss Claire first came here the master wanted me to give it to her. It’ll make a person mindless, see? Compliant. He said it would save the time of tryin’ to wear her down. I wouldn’t give him any, though. You never know how someone’s gonna take to it and I wasn’t gonna be responsible for killin’ no white woman.”

  “Make her compliant,” I murmured. “So that she would give him possession of the urn.”

  “Someone under the spell of jimson weed would give away possession of their own soul, if it was asked of ‘em,” Pandora said ominously.

  “What do we do?” I asked.

  Pandora shook her head. “Make her comfortable and keep her from hurtin’ herself. Only thing you can do. She’s probably gonna lose that baby, though.”

  “Oh, God,” Michael groaned.

  I looked down at Claire, who was still muttering incoherently. How much bad luck can one person have? I wondered miserably.

  I turned to Pandora. “Have someone go to the dock. I sent Hector out there to keep watch. Either Adrien didn’t come ashore there, or . . .”

  Pandora’s eyes widened. “I’ll see it done, ma’am.”

  Michael came to stand next to me. “What would you like me to do?”

  “There’s not much either of us can do until dark, other than get dressed and wait,” I replied. “Michael, do you think this is why Morrigan sent us here? To prevent a god from affecting the outcome of the war?”

  “I honestly don’t have a clue,” he replied.

  I sighed and stroked Claire’s hair. “I just don’t understand Morrigan’s motives. She gives this thing of power to my cousin . . . for what purpose? Even if she knew what would happen, I can’t believe she has a care one way or the other about who wins this war. What did she hope to gain by such an act?”

  Michael shook his head. “Who can understand what the gods know, what they see? You’ll drive yourself mad trying to figure it out. Here’s what I do know: the High King’s laws forbid us from meddling in the affairs of humans, particularly in human wars. Whatever the outcome of this one is destined to be, I think it should be won or lost by the humans, not by Ares or Morrigan.”

  “You don’t think a war god has a place on the field of battle?”

  “Before I met Morrigan I never believed in more than one god. There was God, and that was it. Perhaps she and the others are His intermediaries. Perhaps they’re simply extremely powerful beings who have no connection to the divine at all. I don’t know. But I have seen war and it’s horrific enough without some minor deity using it as a playground.”

  I nodded, completely agreeing with him. “So we’ll stop Boucher and get the urn back because that’s what we all believe is the right thing to do. And if that wasn’t Morrigan’s intention, then she bloody well should have been more specific.”

  CHAPTER 37

  The hours until sunset were agonizing. We moved Claire into the master suite, where Michael and I would be safe from the sun’s deadly rays as we watched over her. She quickly slipped into delirium, not knowing any of us, but speaking to her mother and Ares as if they were sitting at her bedside, carrying on a conversation with her. She was flushed and feverish but, as Pandora had promised, entirely compliant when I asked her to sit up and drink some water for me. Once she thought Alastair was with her and she screamed and thrashed about until I was forced to hold her down so that she wouldn’t harm herself.

  Often she wanted to get out of bed and take a walk. A couple of times I allowed it, helping her up since she could barely stand by herself. Throwing her arm over my shoulder, I held her so that she wouldn’t fall. Like two drunks we staggered around the bedroom. She seemed to think that she was walking in the gardens at Glen Gregor with her mother.

  “I do miss you, Mama,” she said to me, her speech slurred. “But I’m happy at Kenneway. I wis
h I could stay forever. No one there looks at me like I’m odd.” She laughed. “They’re all much stranger than I am.”

  My heart broke for her. She seemed so lost, like she didn’t have a place in the world, and I had begun to feel a motherly urge to protect her. I slid her back into bed and pulled the covers up over her as she continued her one-sided conversation. Soon, though, she was speaking nothing but incomprehensible gibberish. I was pacing the room when Pandora knocked softly and entered.

  “Ulysses and the men are nearly finished with the boat,” she announced.

  Adrien had tried to buy himself a head start by putting a hole in the plantation’s only boat. Thankfully, it was still tied to the dock and Ulysses and some of the field hands were able to pull it ashore and mend it.

  I watched as Pandora lifted Claire’s head and slipped a small cloth bag tied with a string around her neck.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “It’s gris-gris,” Pandora replied. “Good magic. It will help her get better.”

  “Feeling guilty, are you?” I asked.

  Pandora stilled.

  “I know you came from New Orleans with Boucher. You should have gone with him when he left, but you didn’t. You stayed here to help him. You knew when he was coming back, and what he intended to do.”

  She turned to me, looking both guilty and defiant. “I knew he wanted the urn.”

  “Do you have any idea what that thing is?” I asked.

  “I know its powerful magic and he wants it. And you’re right; I did do whatever the master asked of me. But that was . . . before. Miss Cin, you was vampires and he was . . .”

  “Your father,” I stated.

  She looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. “What would you have done?”

  I really couldn’t argue with that. I probably would have done the same.

  “I knew he was comin’ today,” she admitted. “I was afraid if I told you, you’d kill him. Whatever he is, he’s still my daddy. So I came up to Miss Claire’s room this morning, intendin’ to be here when he came. I was gonna stop him, tell him to go on and leave us all in peace. But he was already here. He came earlier than he was supposed to—probably because he knew I’d never let him give her that jimson. I promise, Miss Cin, if I’d known what he meant to do to her . . .”

  “All right,” I interrupted, feeling that she was genuinely sorry for what she’d done. After all, had it not been partially my fault? I had expected something like this and I should have been more vigilant. “But, Pandora,” I said, “you need to make a choice here and now where your loyalty lies. I’ll set you free and send you wherever you want to go, but if you stay on this island—”

  “I swear by the sword of Ogoun I will never fail you again,” she vowed.

  I had no idea who Ogoun was, but I understood her meaning and that was good enough for me. Shortly after Pandora left, Michael came to say goodbye. We both looked down at Claire. She’d been resting peacefully for a while but now she was stirring again, tossing her head and mumbling.

  “The baby?” Michael asked.

  “She hasn’t lost it yet,” I replied.

  I wondered, briefly, if that was necessarily a good thing. She would be returning to Glen Gregor soon, with a baby in her belly and no husband on her arm. It would not be easy for her, or the child. Still, I had seen how happy she was and I knew it would kill her to lose this baby. Therefore, I prayed for its safety as hard as I prayed for her life.

  Michael crossed the room and I watched him strap his claymore to his hip with grim determination.

  “That doesn’t look like the older, wiser Michael,” I said, trying for some levity though I was actually terribly worried.

  Michael tucked a pistol into the waistband of his pants. “No, we’re doing it the old-fashioned way this time,” he said as he pulled on his coat.

  “How far can he have gotten in an afternoon?” I asked.

  “Darling, the railroad runs out of Savannah. He could be anywhere by now. Ulysses is going to take us into Savannah in the boat. Are you ready?”

  I shook my head. “Michael, I can’t go with you. How can you ask me to leave Claire when she’s in this condition?”

  “How can you expect me to do anything else?” he countered.

  “Michael, I know you don’t think I can control the black magic, but I can. What happened with McCready . . . well, I wasn’t prepared for how strong it would hit me, but I am now. It’s rather like walking around with a loaded gun. I didn’t think that I needed the safety on, but now I know that I do. It won’t be an issue again.”

  “The magic isn’t the only thing that concerns me, Cin. It could take days, or even weeks, to track down Boucher and you need to feed. I know your tender heart and I know you won’t drink from Lizzie or one of the slaves. You’ll sit here by Claire’s bedside day and night until you’re half mad with hunger. And then what do you think will happen?”

  Well, it was apparent that Michael thought I would go mad and smite the entire island with black magic.

  “I promise to have Ulysses take me into Savannah tomorrow night,” I vowed.

  Michael crossed his arms over his chest and raised one eyebrow. I scowled and glanced at Claire, mumbling listlessly in her delirium. I was a horrible liar. No matter how good my intentions were, Michael was right. I would take care of Claire before I would take care of myself and we both knew it.

  “Let me put it to you this way,” he informed me. “I won’t leave here without you. If you’re concerned about Pandora, I’ll ask Lizzie to move into the house and care for Claire until we return. Now, do you want the urn back or not?”

  I looked down at Claire. Could I truly justify her life being more important than the thousands that Ares might take at Boucher’s command? She herself would tell me to go, if she were able.

  Michael reached out and touched my hair. “I also think it would do you good to get off this island for a while,” he said softly.

  My temper flared at that. I knew he meant well but it seemed that every time I turned around recently he was treating me like I was defective, dangerous, or deranged. I longed for him to look at me again and see only his wife, not a deadly weapon.

  “Fine,” I agreed and pushed past him. I reached the wardrobe and opened the doors, numbly pulling out practical clothing for such an endeavor. “But you realize that if she dies alone, I’ll never forgive you,” I said softly.

  “I’d rather bear that burden,” he replied, “than have you have to live with the guilt if things go wrong and no one is here who can stop you.”

  Frustrated, I brushed a tear from the corner of my eye. Truly, sometimes I did not deserve him.

  CHAPTER 38

  I was angry. I was angry at Boucher for what he’d done to Claire, angry at myself for not stopping him when I’d had the chance, and angry at Michael for not trusting me enough to leave me alone on the island. It was not a good combination, a fact I was very cognizant of as we wandered around the train depot, trying to detect Adrien’s scent. We finally found it on the platform for the Macon-bound train. Boucher had been waiting here for quite some time, not too long ago.

  Since the sunlight made it impossible for Michael and me to ride in the passenger cars like normal people, we stealthily slipped inside one of the freight cars which would shield us come sunrise. Michael slid the door shut and I put a keep-away spell on it as I had done to our hotel room at the Pulaski House. That should deter any overzealous inspectors from opening the doors in the middle of the day.

  The train would take us to Macon and then on to Atlanta. Michael and I both agreed that Boucher would be headed north, rather than west, out of Macon. He had possession of a war god and he would want to make it to the closest battlefield he could find with all due haste.

  “It’ll be the middle of the afternoon when we arrive in Macon,” Michael said. “However, since we don’t have to change trains the sunlight shouldn’t be an issue.”

  I looked around th
e freight car. “Assuming it’s not riddled with holes,” I muttered as I hopped up to sit on the edge of one of the wooden crates.

  “We’ve been in worse situations, mo ghraidh.”

  “I know. I just don’t relish spending the entire day dodging shafts of light.”

  Michael had purchased a map and a newspaper at the depot and he spread both out next to me. “We should put into Atlanta shortly after midnight,” he said, pointing to the city on the map. “I think we should spend the day at a hotel there and start again after dark.”

  “Do you think it’s prudent to waste that much time?” I asked.

  “I think we’ll either end up waiting in Atlanta or in Corinth,” he replied.

  “Is that where we’re going?”

  “According to the newspapers there is a large contingent of Union and Confederate forces facing off in Tennessee, just north of Corinth, Mississippi,” he said, showing me the location on the map. “I believe that’s where Boucher will take Ares. If I’ve calculated the travel time correctly, we’ll arrive in Corinth on Wednesday morning if we travel straight through. I’d much rather break our journey in Atlanta. For one thing, it’s a far larger city and it’ll be easier to feed there.”

  “And if we leave Atlanta tomorrow night instead of this morning, we can take a passenger car to Dalton or Chattanooga and then hop another freight car to Corinth.”

  He nodded. “Where we will arrive in the early evening, instead of the early morning.”

  “All right,” I agreed. “That is a much better plan.”

  “Now, the only thing left to decide,” Michael said in a tone that I’d come to know all too well over the decades, “is what to do with the next fifteen hours or so?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m still angry with you.”

  He shrugged and grinned at me. “I like it a little rough on occasion.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Even though he frustrated me at times, I loved this man more than my own life. I knew that, whatever his faults, he had only my best interests at heart. It was the black magic, not me, that he didn’t trust. But the magic was a part of me and he and I were going to have to learn to live with it. If we didn’t, it was going to destroy us. However, now seemed neither the time nor the place to have that discussion, especially not when his blue eyes were glittering with wickedness and his sensual lips were curved in that tempting smile I loved so well.