Richard rose before his uncertain temper did, and limped over to the curtained window overlooking his garden maze. Perfectly clipped hedges of hawthorn formed the living, eight-foot-high walls of the labyrinth, designed by a former lord of the castle who had been fond of chasing stable lads and spit boys through them. Although the sun had set an hour ago, the sky to the west remained a brilliant shade of deep porcelain blue.
Michael would come; that much Richard knew. The American's escape attempts made that only too clear. Cyprien would negotiate with him, however. He could not mount a siege against Dundellan, and he would not dare start a Kyn civil war over a woman.
Abducting Dr. Keller from America and bringing her to Ireland had not been perhaps the wisest decision Richard had made in recent months. She had not long been Kyn, and she seemed to resent everything about them. She certainly did not acknowledge his privilege of rule over her. Yet he needed an answer to his dilemma, and the present options left to him were not enough.
This female was a modern woman, trained in the medical and surgical arts. One of only three humans to survive the change from human to Darkyn in six centuries, even though her transition had been highly irregular. The fact remained that she was one of his kind now, and, whether she liked it or not, she owed to him complete and abiding fealty. Ultimately her talent belonged to him, as she did, blood, body, and immortal soul.
Michael had to accept that. So did Alexandra.
"I am your king," Richard told her. "You are my subject, and you will obey my commands."
"I'm an American. We don't have kings. We elect presidents. I didn't vote for you." Alexandra ran her fingernails down along the purring feline's spine. "Your cat's a doll, though. What's his name?"
"I don't name animals." He had not thought about the cultural differences. "Americans should have a talent for subservience. You are nothing but the descendents of indentured servants and African slaves."
"Don't forget the religious malcontents." She lifted the cat and rubbed noses with it. "We're also the biggest shoppers in the world, we own more plutonium than anyone else, and if you piss us off enough, we'll bomb your country." She gave him a bright smile.
Richard took the cat from her. "I will not release you; nor will I allow you to escape," he said. "Accept this, do as you intended, and find a cure for the changelings."
The cat yowled before jumping out of his arms and slinking away.
Alexandra feigned a yawn. "Sorry, me being an inferior American and all, I'm not licensed to practice medicine in this country. Use your own docs."
He did not appreciate the reminder of his loss of control. Under his cloak, his changed muscles tightened and knotted. "They are all dead."
"What?"
"I lost my temper and killed them."
That, at least, silenced her.
"I destroyed their laboratory and their research before I regained control of myself." He turned, removing one of his gloves as he did so, and displayed his distorted hand, allowing his claws to emerge and extend to their full length. "What is left of my humanity will go rather quickly now, too, I think. What will happen, Doctor, when I next lose my temper?"
She stared at the black talons for a moment before turning her head away. "I won't help you."
"I think you will." Richard called in his men and instructed Stefan to lock her in one of the safe rooms. "Korvel, remain." He waited until the guard had escorted Alexandra out of the library before he said, "She likely bespelled Jamison; none of the human staff will be safe now. Station a Kyn guard by her door at all times."
"As you command, my lord." His seneschal looked as if he meant to add more, but fell silent.
"Try as I will, I cannot read your thoughts, Captain."
"Words do not come easily to me, my lord. Not when I bear such news as this." Korvel shifted his weight. "None of Cyprien's suzerains have replied to your summons or will speak to me. I am handed excuses right and left by their human servants."
"Michael has always inspired loyalty among his men," Richard said. "It is why I chose him to be the American seigneur."
"His tax agents have frozen our American accounts and properties," Korvel continued. "All of our usual means and avenues of transportation to the United States have been temporarily shut down. He has, in effect, closed his borders to us."
Richard chuckled. "I taught him well."
"His sygkenis causes almost as much trouble," Korvel stated flatly. "I fear she will be more dangerous than her master."
"How so?"
"She has no modesty, no regard for proper behavior. Her insolence toward you is open and appalling. She is also very resourceful." His seneschal gestured toward the grappling hook Alexandra had fashioned. "Yet she is utterly charming. She makes the men laugh with her antics, and seduces them with her smiles. You saw Stefan. Twice I have had to discourage him from handling her more than is necessary."
Richard refused to believe this half-human, half-Kyn leech could wield so much power over his men. "It is being parted from Cyprien, nothing more."
"That is the other danger. Her scent is persuasive, and she sheds more of it by the hour. How long her control will last, I cannot say, but the men are growing more restless by the hour." Korvel nodded toward the garrison's quarters. "Soon I will not be able to keep them from her, or her from them."
Giving Alexandra to Korvel might tire her out—his seneschal regularly plowed through human and Kyn females with methodical indifference—but Richard had not brought her to Dundellan to subjugate her, or to provide physical relief for his household. He had enraptured humans for that. Also, in a few weeks it would make no difference. "What may be done about her?"
"I cannot advise you, my lord." The captain rested a hand on his sword hilt. "The only solution I know is slightly too permanent."
Richard considered sealing her in her room, but that would not motivate her to begin testing. "I will think on it."
"Cannot Korvel seduce her before she has the entire garrison under her spell?" a fair and coolly beautiful woman asked as she stepped inside.
"My lady." Korvel sketched a respectful bow. To Richard, he said, "My lord, I must see to the prisoner." Without another word he departed the room.
"How easily your captain takes offense," Elizabeth said as she swept her full silk skirts back in a superb curtsy. "My maid told me of the leech attempting to again escape. She seems most determined to leave us."
All of Richard's cats silently fled the room.
"She has yet to adjust to her new situation here," Richard said, tugging the glove back over his hand. "When she does, she will serve me."
"Undoubtedly." Lady Elizabeth rarely frowned or smiled, preferring to maintain the serene façade of highborn indifference. Now, however, a definite line appeared between her fair brows. "But must you wait upon her leisure, my husband? Given this increasing lack of self-control, can you yet afford to?"
Richard had not married Elizabeth for her arctic beauty and winsome form, breathtaking as they were. She had been born to an ancient, noble house, and taught how to scheme and plot in the manner of royals nearly from the moment she had been weaned. Seven centuries after taking her to wife and making her Kyn, Richard regarded her talent for design and manipulation as one of the chief assets in his arsenal.
"Tell me how I may not," he said simply.
"Many ways occur to me." Elizabeth shrugged modestly before arranging herself on a love seat near his desk. "This leech seems an overly emotional creature. She loves with the abandonment of a child, does she not? I did not expect that such a learned female would be as reckless and disrespectful as one, either. But then, she is veritably driven by such crude affections."
Richard inclined his head.
"It is in the spirit of her defiance that you may find a weapon." Elizabeth fussed with a fold of her skirt before coyly glancing up at him through her lashes. "You will agree that she might go to great lengths to protect those she loves. If one of them could be brought here to Dundellan as your particular guest, that should make the leech more amenable to do your bidding."
"We cannot take anyone from America," Richard said. "Michael has seen to it."
"There is still one of Cyprien's lords who remains loyal to you, and he is most resourceful. You have only to ask it of him." His wife picked up the telephone on his desk. "Shall I arrange it now?"
"You are looking for something in particular, garçon?" the bookstore clerk asked in crisp, annoyed English.
Nick replaced the book on medieval castles and scanned the rest of the shelf. She didn't mind that the clerk had mistaken her for a boy; she had cut her hair short and dyed it dark brown specifically to give that impression. He must have guessed she was English from watching her comb through the section of livres en anglais.
She got most of her research off the Internet, but now and then she raided a bookshop. Reading was one of the few pleasures she indulged herself with regularly. She couldn't carry books around with her on the road, though, so after she read them she left them behind or sold them to another bookshop.
"I need a picture book of old French estate homes," she told him. Over his shoulder she saw that the clerk had drawn the curtains at the front display window, and was now rather pointedly glancing at his wristwatch. The sun had sunk below the horizon; obviously he wanted to close the shop and go home. "Anything from a manor to a mansion."
"Ah." The clerk, a middle-aged man with thick graying brown hair and reading glasses hanging from the neat collar of his pressed shirt, reached for a book above her head. "Perhaps this will suit you?"
Nick skimmed through the pages of the coffee-table book, most of which had at least two or three color plates of different buildings on them. It would take her a couple of hours to go through it and mark her map with a route, but at least it was a starting place.
