Heiress of Lies (6 page)

     Just as they were approaching the ground, Connor tugged on her arm and swung her around into his arms as if she weighed no more than the small sack he had attached to his belt. The landing was gentle and she felt like they had barely touched the ground when he started to run.

     This time she didn’t hesitate to lean into his jacket to break some of the force of the air pushing against her. The pressure took her breath away and she couldn’t have spoken to Conner if she wanted to. She could tell that he was right; they were moving much faster than a horse ever could.

     Soon Conner’s rhythmic stride and the wind’s lullaby hypnotized her, and although she didn’t sleep, she fell into a deep, lethargic trance that was laced with memories. She thought of Malin and his one visit to the convent. It was the only time she had seen him since the night before she left.

     Her father visited her several times a year depending on the state of his affairs, and Angeline always looked forward to his visits. She enjoyed showing him how far she had progressed in her studies. The sisters had developed a new curriculum for her after she completed the requisite four-year program in less than two. Angeline had hoped that she would be allowed to return to Brebackerin, but she underestimated the chagrin of the Sisters of St. Abath. There was one thing for certain that Angeline learned about the nuns in her time there, and that was that they liked nothing better than a challenge. So she never shied away from giving them one.

     It had been just six months ago during her father’s last visit that Angeline learned that Malin had accompanied her father to the convent. When her attendant had brought her the news, Angeline had to sit down and consider what that meant. Usually the Chief Advisor fulfilled the duties of the king in Brebackerin while the king tended to matters outside the capital. To have both of them traveling at the same time together signaled the trip was of great importance to have risked the two most powerful men in the realm.

     So it was with great trepidation that Angeline went out to her father’s encampment to meet them. Of course, men were rarely allowed into the convent, even the king. So on her father’s visits, Angeline was accompanied by one of the sisters and she was allowed to see him several times a day as long as it didn’t interfere with her studies. The sisters did not take interruption to their schedule lightly.

     Angeline had worn her best dress that day. It was a present from her father for her twentieth birthday and she hadn’t had an occasion to wear it, as her regular uniform at the convent was a simple blue frock. But this dress was a court dress with a black beaded bodice and full plum skirt. The skirt's color almost perfectly matched her eyes, and the bodice drew attention to the fact that Angeline wasn’t a little girl anymore.

     As she and Sister Marta walked into camp, she heard the whispers of the men who had stopped to stare at her. She held her head high. She felt, rather than saw, the awed bows as the men dropped to their knees as she passed. Too quickly it seemed, she arrived at her father’s tent in the middle of camp. Inside, she could hear low voices that sounded like the men inside were arguing.

     Angeline swept the fabric aside and stepped inside. Malin and her father were bent low over a table that had been erected in the middle of the room. They looked up in surprise.

     “Angeline!” her father said warmly, and he opened his arms.

     Although she had just turned twenty, Angeline ran across the room and threw herself into her father’s arms. “Father, I’ve missed you.”

     Her father had folded her into a tight bear hug. Even though he was stern with almost everyone else, he had always doted on her. He stroked her hair for just a moment, and then he pushed her away and looked her over from head to toe. “Now then, let me get a good look at the future Queen of Altera. Have they been taking good care of you here, little one?”

     Angeline nodded. “Of course, Father.” Now that she had a chance to observe him close up, she saw that her father was thinner than she remembered. Eric Robart had always been a hearty man who stood at least half a hand taller than most of his men. But his shoulders seemed stooped and his once dark black hair was now mostly white. There were lines across his face that had never been there before. Her father looked…old.

     “What do you think, Malin? Isn’t my daughter the loveliest girl you’ve ever seen?” Eric said, turning to Malin, who had been watching the exchange from the other side of the table.

     Malin’s blue eyes caught hers and Angeline flushed, remembering the last time she had seen him, but she didn’t look away.

     “Undoubtedly, sire,” Malin replied evenly.

     Angeline wondered if he ever thought about their kiss. Then she wondered if he had kissed anyone else since their stolen embrace in the moonlight and she felt a shot of jealousy shoot up through her middle.

     Her gaze dropped to the table behind her father and she saw a huge map of Altera spread out with strange markings all around the Solera Valley.

     In Connor’s arms, Angeline started fully awake. At the time, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking of Malin, especially after he excused himself minutes after she arrived at the tent. But now she knew something else had been going on that had drawn her father and Malin out of the capital.

     Her sudden movement caught Connor’s attention and he slowed down and then stopped. Gently he set her down. She saw the question in his eyes.

     “Is there something wrong, Princess?”

     Angeline felt sick and stupid for acting like a moonsick child and not realizing it before. “They knew,” she whispered. “They knew about you.”

     Connor could tell that Angeline was upset, and he was surprised to find that this bothered him. Connor had paid his source in the convent a lot of gold to get all the inside information possible on Angeline. He knew that if she trusted him and went with him willingly, everything with the Master would be easier, for both of them. He had outlined the details of the kidnapping months before and planned for every possible scenario. He knew that it was just a matter of time before the princess would return to Brebackerin, so he just had to be patient. When he received word that the princess had been called back, everything was already in place for him to make his move. But his extensive planning meant that although he had never laid eyes on the young princess standing before him, he felt like he had known her for years.

     She had never complained about being sequestered away in the convent for the last three years. She had been studious and was a natural at languages, history, and the sciences. She wrote her father three times a week. When her favorite nun, Sister Marta, had taken ill, Angeline asked to be excused from her studies for three days so that she could care for her. When she wasn’t studying, she went horseback riding and took her easel so that she could paint in solitude. Her favorite flower was the lily and she wore a locket almost every day that had been her mother’s.

     And it was there in the moonlight, staring into Angeline’s panic-stricken eyes, that Connor realized that his feelings for her had developed an alarming complexity. He almost scoffed at his stupidity. His mentor, Monroe, would be rolling his eyes and laughing himself silly while at the same time lamenting again how unfortunate he had been to blood-bond a weak simpleton like Connor. Connor had spent the last century looking for a way to undo what Monroe had done to him, trying to never lose sight of his humanity. And in doing so, he had made himself vulnerable to a human’s greatest weakness.

     He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away. It was something he would deal with later, after he delivered Angeline to the Master. “What are you talking about?” he said tersely. The sooner he got Angeline to the Master and away from him the better.

     He watched Angeline chew on her lip as if deciding whether to say more. Then she swallowed hard. “I remember seeing some of my father’s papers the last time he came to visit me. There were diagrams and notes of attacks along the Solera Valley, but on our side of the boundary line.”

     “There have always been skirmishes in the Solera Valley,” Connor said. “That has been the way of it since your great-great-great-great-grandfather conceded this land to the wicked and lawless.”

     “He called it the Forgotten Lands.” She laughed but there was no humor in it. “I realize now that he meant that in more ways than one. But no, he also had lists of names. Names of missing people.”

     Connor’s eyes narrowed. If Eric Robart had any idea of what the Master was planning, the Master needed to be notified right away. “I’m not sure what you saw. But that is of no consequence right now. The sooner I can get you to the Master the sooner you can go home to your father and be rid of the likes of me.”

     She shook her head and her long hair whipped around violently. “He knew that the vampires still existed. He knew and he never told me. How can he expect me to take over the kingdom when I don’t know everything about it?”

     She was frustrated not because vampires existed, but because her father had not confided in her, he realized. Connor knew that many of Eric Robart’s intentions around his only daughter were at best, questionable. But it wasn’t his place to tell her those things, and it made him feel bad for her. As wise and grown up as she was, she still carried innocence about her. The world had many shocking things in store for her. The thought made his chest tight.

     That was when he felt it. It was the slightest rustle that changed the way the wind wrapped around him, but it was all the sign he needed to know. Others were coming and they were moving fast.

     “Princess, we have to keep moving. It isn’t safe here,” he said. Before she could protest, he swept her up into his arms again and started to run.

     Connor put out his mind to touch those behind him, and he almost drew back again instantly in disgust. There were two of them, and he confirmed they were the same ones who had almost found them the night before. The one mind was curiously empty. Connor had encountered minds like it before; simple men who had no ambitions or goals in life beyond existing. There was nothing threatening to be found there. But it was the other that worried him. That one’s mind was a cesspool of red and black; anger, madness, and violence.

     Connor was able to skim thoughts from the surface of that one’s mind and it made his stomach turn, even after all the things he had seen in his afterlife. The two pursuers had spent the day at a small farmhouse on the other side of the valley. There had been a man, a woman, and two small children there. It was because of this rare find that they were late returning to the valley to continue their search for Connor and Angeline. The memory of the small boy they had found in the potato cellar was so vivid, and the taste of his blood when they finally finished with him was so sweet, that Connor could not stop his mouth from watering even though his mind rebelled against it.

     Connor was able to pick up a few more impressions. The thoughts of the dark mind had turned to Angeline and the possibility of capturing her for himself. For even though it was the Master’s game that set this madman on Angeline’s trail, he hoped that he would have a chance to play his own game with the princess. And that was when the vampire’s name swept across the tall grass between them and hit Connor with full force.

     Searon.

     For the first time in a long time, Connor felt fear rising up through his core. Searon had been the Master’s favored son, at least until a particularly gruesome encounter with a traveling merchant train that had braved the wildness of the lawless side of the Solera Valley in search of a profit.

     Connor had been summoned to the coven’s council to witness Searon’s sentencing. He hadn’t wanted to, but Monroe had insisted on it. He knew that his reclusiveness vexed his sire and had even caused some bad feelings between Monroe and the Master. The request had been so simple it hadn’t even been worth getting into a fight with Monroe. And as much as he detested what Monroe had done to him, cursing him to live as a murderer for eternity, he had grown somewhat fond of the man over the years. He suffered Monroe’s rants in silence, and tried to accommodate the small favors, just enough to curry sustained goodwill between them so that Monroe left him in peace.

     Connor had been against the very back wall of the circular chamber when Searon had been brought before the Master in chains. While everyone else pushed forward to get a better look at the wayward son, Connor had leaned back against the wall and yawned. The extra four inches he had on most of the men meant that he could see just enough of what was happening in the center of the chamber. High up the wall in each of the four corners hung huge oval mirrors wrapped in ornate gold cases. There wasn’t a bad seat in the house, and it was a guarantee that you wouldn’t miss even one excruciating detail of the action.