Bound By Sin (A Cin Craven Novel) Read online

  “If you think you’re going to burn this house down with women and children inside it,” he announced loudly, “you’re going to have to come through me to do it.”

  I heard a metal click and was surprised to see Lizzie step up next to Michael, her gun raised to her shoulder.

  “And me. This rifle shoots fourteen rounds per minute, boys,” she said confidently. “I might not get all of you, but who’s going to be first?”

  Oh, I wish they hadn’t done that, I thought. While I trusted Michael with his fists and Lizzie with her gun, these men also had guns and fists and we were still outnumbered. Before anyone got the bright idea to be the first to step on up, I somehow had to neutralize the situation.

  All right, I said to the black magic, you wanted to come out and play, let’s see what you can do.

  With my magic now working in harmony, I felt connected to everything—the clouds rolling through the sky, the wind whistling through the trees. I could even feel the dark presence of Pandora’s power. Reaching further I recognized the familiar feel of Claire’s small bit of magic, and the neck-ruffling necromancy she’d inherited from her father. I sensed Evangeline hovering like a nebulous shadow behind me.

  Suddenly, as if the black magic had a mind and will of its own and had just come up with a brilliant idea, it rushed from me, not over the men below but east and west, disappearing into the dark woods. I could still feel it connected to me, pulling at me like sticky taffy. Whatever it was going to do it had better do it quickly because the situation on the ground was rapidly deteriorating. A very large man was about to take a swing at my husband and Lizzie was holding off several others who were unwilling to shoot at a woman. Adrien Boucher was watching me, waiting.

  The sound of an army of footsteps marching across the packed earth filled my ears. The men below heard it as well and the shouting and name-calling dwindled until there was nothing but stunned silence on the ground. I walked to the far edge of the porch, hoping that it wasn’t the field workers coming with some misplaced idea that they could help. But there was nothing human coming down the lane from the village. When I saw what my magic had called forth, I laughed. The darkness liked death, and death was exactly what it had brought me.

  I had emptied the entire slave cemetery and the spirits were now marching on the house. The mob took one look at the ghostly army and began to slowly back away from the house. I rushed back to the center of the porch, smiling as the angry, belligerent men turned wild-eyed with fear.

  “Go!” I shouted. “And don’t ever come back!”

  Like a cresting white wave the spirits rushed the men, swirling around them, screaming with a sound like metal scraping across glass. The humans began literally falling all over themselves in an effort to get away. From the family cemetery on the other side of the house I saw a man and woman sail forth, she in a high-necked white gown and he wearing evening clothes, bushy sideburns, and a top hat. I happily watched as Evangeline danced through the departing mob with her parents, whirling like a dervish and laughing.

  As the men ran like rats abandoning a sinking ship, the sound of ghostly voices followed them, whispering in their ears, hounding their every footstep. Over and over the voices warned, “This land is mine. . . . Don’t ever come back. . . . Don’t ever come back. . . .”

  CHAPTER 49

  When their task was complete, the ghostly forms melted to the ground until they were nothing more than fog rushing across the grass, and disappeared from whence they came. All save Evangeline, who was standing triumphantly amid the scattered and smoldering remains of the men’s torches. Unsurprisingly, Adrien Boucher was the only one who hadn’t run, which just goes to prove that the thirst for vengeance will overcome good judgment and all sense of self-preservation.

  Michael smiled at him. “You would have been wise to stay in Tennessee,” he said.

  “Do you understand what you did?” Boucher screeched. “We could have won that battle, a great victory for the south, and then you took him away from me. Over twenty thousand casualties on both sides, half of them ours.”

  “Welcome to the horrors of war, Boucher. Don’t you believe for a moment that there would have been any fewer lives lost with a blood-thirsty war god on the field. But, then, it’s not the dead and wounded that you really care about, is it? You certainly got away unscathed,” Michael observed contemptuously. “I’ll wager you didn’t even stay to fight, did you? You want to be like your heroes of myth and legend, but you don’t have it in you, mate, and you never will.”

  “Fort Pulaski on the Savannah River fell to the Union yesterday, did you know that?” Adrien asked. “Our whole way of life is going to be stripped from us and before you know it the Negroes will be giving orders to the white men!”

  “Well, wouldn’t that be the end of the world,” Michael said sarcastically. “I’ll tell you what,” he offered, “since it’s obvious that you won’t let this go, why don’t I summon the god himself and if he wishes to go away with you to war, I’ll give you the urn.”

  Boucher’s eyes glittered at the prospect.

  “Ares!” Michael shouted. “I summon you.”

  In a flash of light the god appeared in front of Michael. His Confederate uniform was gone and he was once again wearing his bronze armor. He looked from Michael to Boucher and smiled.

  “This is the little man who hurt Claire,” Ares said. “I will kill him now.”

  Boucher, belatedly realizing that all was lost, began to back away. He pulled his pistol from the waistband of his breeches and fired it at Ares. The bullet hit the armor and bounced off, landing harmlessly on the ground. And that’s when Boucher panicked.

  Ares raised one arm toward him and Adrien started firing wildly. Michael dove toward Lizzie, pushing her to the ground, trying to shield her with his body. A stray bullet caught me in the chest, just above my left breast, the force of it knocking me to the floor. Adrien kept firing until his gun clicked impotently.

  The war god strode over to him, reaching out one massive hand and grabbing Boucher by the throat. Adrien clawed frantically at Ares’s wrist but his efforts didn’t leave so much as a scratch on the god’s skin.

  “Human,” Ares spat, “you dared to try and take from me the only thing I’ve cared about for millennia, a woman who is pregnant with my child.”

  “It wasn’t my intention to kill her,” Boucher choked out.

  “Cease your lies,” Ares demanded. “You wanted the attention of the great god of war. Now you have it.”

  Ares tossed Boucher away from him and for a moment I thought he was going to let the man go. Adrien must have thought so too, for he scrambled to his feet, stumbling backward in an effort to flee. I watched through the iron railings as Ares raised one massive arm and threw a god-bolt at Boucher. Adrien’s screams echoed in my ears as the blue lightning hit his chest and his whole body went up in flames, incinerating him to ashes within seconds.

  Pandora told him he’d burn in God’s fire for what he’d done, I thought. She just had the wrong god.

  I sighed gratefully. It was finally over.

  “Oh, God!” Pandora screamed from inside the house. “Help! Come quick! Oh, God . . . Miss Claire!”

  Ares flashed into the hall just as I burst through the doors. For a moment we both stood like statues, shocked by the scene before us. Claire was sprawled on the floor in Pandora’s arms, clutching her stomach just below her breasts . . . and blood was seeping out from between her fingers at an alarming rate. I rushed forward, sliding to the ground in front of her.

  “Oh, Claire,” I breathed. This was bad.

  “Stray bullet,” she said raggedly. “Curiosity killed the cat.” She started to laugh but stopped, a pained expression on her face. “Damned cat’s fine though . . . and I’m going to die.”

  “You’re not going to die,” I lied, peeling her fingers away from the wound. The situation did not get better upon closer inspection.

  No, I thought. I lost Fiona and I lost Archie
. I can’t lose Claire too. Not now.

  Michael and Lizzie rushed up the stairs, coming to an abrupt halt behind Ares, expressions of fear on both their faces.

  Claire looked up at the war god, tears gathering in her eyes. “I’m so sorry about the baby,” she said. “I wanted to be the mother of your child so much, truly I did.”

  “You can save her,” Pandora said desperately. “Make her a vampire. Do it now!”

  She would lose the baby and she would never be able to have another, I thought, but she would live.

  “No,” Ares said harshly, as if he could read my thoughts. “She will not be one of Morrigan’s creatures. She is mine!”

  With that he shoved Pandora away, scooped Claire into his arms, and disappeared in a violent flash of light. We were all left staring at the empty, blood-stained space Claire had just occupied.

  “Where did he take her?” Evangeline asked.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I replied, and then staggered into the wall.

  I looked down and for a moment I couldn’t figure out why the front of my gown was red with blood. I’d forgotten about the bullet in my chest.

  “Damn,” I muttered.

  CHAPTER 50

  Ginny McCready, who had thankfully been hiding under the covers on my bed during most of the confrontation, now sat next to me with a fascinated look on her face as Pandora dug the bullet out of my chest.

  “Doesn’t it hurt?” she asked.

  “A bit,” I replied nonchalantly.

  Actually, it burned like fire, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. Lizzie didn’t have quite the stomach for blood and gore that her daughter did, so she’d promptly left and gone down to the cottage to tell Cassandra to inform the others that the threat was gone. I glanced down again at the wound and my lovely dress that was now completely ruined. Michael tipped my chin up and kissed me on the lips.

  “You were incredible,” he said softly.

  “You weren’t so bad yourself,” I replied. “But next time let’s try not to openly challenge a mob of fanatics carrying guns, shall we?”

  “I was just distracting them so you could do what you do best,” he said with a grin.

  Lizzie entered the room just as Pandora pulled the bullet out. Ginny whooped with delight at a mission accomplished and I sank back onto the pillows, feeling utterly drained.

  “I’m beginning to hate guns,” I complained. “Swords make so much cleaner wounds. Do you realize this is the second time I’ve been shot in the past year?” I cracked one eye open. “Lizzie, when I’m stronger I want you to teach me how to use that rifle,” I said.

  “How long will it take you to recover?” Lizzie asked. “I sort of thought you vam—” she broke off, looking at Ginny, who was soaking everything up like a sponge.

  “Mama, I know she’s a vampire,” Ginny stated. “Pandora already told me.”

  We all looked at Pandora in shock. She shrugged. “Child asked,” she said. “Wasn’t gonna lie to her.”

  Lizzie grimaced. “Yes, well, when she asks you how babies are made I’d appreciate it if you’d lie,” she said under her breath.

  “I know that too,” Ginny informed us.

  “That’s enough, young lady,” her mother scolded.

  I coughed and answered Lizzie’s question. “It’ll heal faster after I’ve fed.”

  Michael shook his head. “If Boucher was right and Fort Pulaski has fallen to the Union, it’ll be nearly impossible to get into Savannah anymore. We’ll have to go across the inlet to the mainland tonight and hope to find something there.”

  “Take mine,” Lizzie offered.

  I shook my head. “Lizzie, you don’t—”

  “Cin,” Michael interrupted. “If she’s willing, let her do it. You’re wounded and there’s no telling what we’re going to find. I’ll have to go, but finding one meal is a lot easier than finding two.”

  “Ain’t no reason you can’t take my blood, is there?” Pandora volunteered. “She’s scared of my magic but you ain’t got a lick of magic in you, sir. Take it with my blessing,” she said, holding out her wrist to him. “As penance for betrayin’ Miss Claire.”

  “You don’t owe me that,” Michael said.

  “Mr. Michael, you won’t take it from me, then take it from one of the others,” Pandora argued. “You gave them the hope of freedom. Any one of them’d be happy to spill their blood for you.”

  Michael accepted Pandora’s offer of blood and Lizzie sent Ginny out into the hall, firmly closing the door behind her. When Lizzie turned back to me she had a worried expression on her face.

  “Is it going to be like what you did to Robert?” she asked. “I don’t mind, I just want to be prepared.”

  “No,” I said. “It won’t be anything like that.”

  I explained the process to her and Pandora and then Michael and I bespelled them both and drank gently from their wrists. At one point I glanced up to see Ginny peeking in from the hall. I made a shooing motion with my hand and she grinned and softly closed the door. Just as we’d finished, the sound of heavy footsteps climbing the stairs reverberated through the house. Ulysses pushed open the bedroom door and breathed a sigh of relief to see his wife unscathed.

  “We was down in the far field when I saw the flare,” he said. “Everyone all right?”

  “Miss Cin was wounded but she’ll be fine,” Pandora informed him.

  He glanced around the room, mentally counting heads. “Where’s Miss Claire?” he asked.

  Yes, I thought, that’s the question, isn’t it?

  CHAPTER 51

  We tried to summon Ares. We shook the urn and tried again. Nothing happened. Growling in frustration I threw the thing against a wall but, as Claire had said, it was absolutely indestructible.

  “We’ll wait for twenty-four hours and try again,” Michael said.

  “I don’t want to wait,” I snapped petulantly. “I want to know what’s happened to her now.”

  He wrapped his arms around me. “I know,” he said.

  “But I think she’s safe. Ares wouldn’t have taken her away just to watch her die.”

  “He might have if he thought I was going to make her a vampire,” I replied.

  Michael shook his head. “He’s a man in love. He’d rather have her a vampire than dead. Trust me, I know this.”

  I smiled up at him sadly. “You do, don’t you?” After all, he had turned me to save me.

  The rest of the day was agonizingly long. Michael tried to distract me but I paced until Evangeline complained good-naturedly that I was going to wear a hole in her hardwood floors. Actually, the ghost was just as worried for Claire as I was. In fact, the entire household was quiet and subdued, the only sounds coming from the children outside.

  Hector and Perseus were hailed as heroes. When they returned from the beach, all the children gathered around to hear the story of how Perseus had lit the flare and then they wanted to hear from Hector what it was like to pilot the boat. Ginny had joined in, telling everyone about what had happened at the house. I’m not sure how much of this she actually saw and how much she’d heard from Pandora. Some of it she definitely made up, but she told it with flair anyway. To hear her tell it, you’d think I had single-handedly slain an eight-headed hydra instead of simply scaring off a handful of overzealous wastrels with a bit of magic.

  At dusk Lizzie marched into my room, rifle in hand.

  “Come on,” she said. “I’m going to teach you how to shoot.”

  I started to protest, but Michael stopped me.

  “Go ahead, lass,” he said. “It’ll take your mind off of it. We can’t do anything until in the morning anyway.”

  Lizzie took me out into the woods and tacked a piece of red cloth to a tree. Then she showed me how to load and fire the rifle. The first shot I missed entirely, the second one hit dead center on the target. Lizzie congratulated me and I felt a silly sense of pride at being able to hit what I was aiming at. After that, I realized that sho
oting was a wonderful way to vent my anger. I used up a whole box of shells and Lizzie was amazed to find that I was accurate to about four hundred yards. Of course, as I pointed out to her, it’s very helpful to your aim if you’re a vampire who can see four hundred yards away in the dark. As we walked back to the house I thought that perhaps I didn’t hate guns after all. I just hated being shot.

  Eventually I slept, though I was grateful when Michael woke me and told me it was time. Dressing quickly in my breeches, a white shirt, and the leather vest, I was happy to see that Pandora had returned my dry boots. Promptly at ten o’clock Lizzie, Pandora, and Evangeline arrived, all of them eager to see if we could finally get Ares out of that urn and find out what had happened to Claire. Michael said the words to summon him and we all waited breathlessly (some of us more than others) to see if he would appear.

  “You are the neediest bunch of people I’ve ever met,” Ares said as he flashed into the room. “I haven’t been home in three millennia and I can’t even enjoy it because your calls echo constantly through my temple. Claire insists that I must come down here and tell you that she’s fine. So here I am.”

  I clutched Michael’s hand in relief. “Where is she?” I asked. “What did you do with her?”

  “What about the wound?” Pandora demanded. “Is she really all right?”

  “I just said she was, did I not?” he asked impatiently. “She’s in my temple on Mount Olympus and she is healed.”

  “How?” I asked.

  Ares looked a bit uncomfortable but when I repeated the question he answered. “I took her to Athena and offered to spend the rest of eternity trapped in that urn if she would intercede with Asclepius to save Claire and my child.”

  “If Claire is healed,” Michael said suspiciously, “then how did you get out?”

  “Because the curse is broken,” I said. “He finally loved something else more than he loved war or himself.”

  Ares nodded. “Claire was given ambrosia and now she will never die. She will stay with me always on Olympus.”