Lead Demon

Raleigh's Anger

Sebastian wiped his sleeve across his mouth as if the gesture might remove all trace of me. “When the rest of the Congregation discovers your affections for him—”

“If my affection for him is f*******n, so is yours,” I interrupted. Marlowe flinched. “But none of us choose whom we love.”

“Iffley and his friends won’t be the last to accuse you of witchcraft,” Sebastian said with a note of sour triumph. “Mark me well, Mistress Roydon. Daemons often see the future as plainly as witches.”

Seven’s hand moved to my waist. The cold, familiar touch of his fingers swept from one side of my rib cage to the other, following the curved path that marked me as belonging to a vampire. For Seven it was a powerful reminder of his earlier failure to keep me safe. Sebastian made a horrible, half-swallowed sound of distress at the intimacy of the gesture. “If you are so prescient, then you should have foreseen what your betrayal would mean to me,” Seven said, gradually unfolding himself.

“Get out of my sight, Sebastian, or so help me God there will be nothing left of you to bury.”

“You would have her over me?” Sebastian sounded dumbfounded.

“In a heartbeat. Get out,” repeated Seven.

Sebastian’s passage out of the room was measured, but once in the corridor his pace quickened. His feet echoed on the wooden stairs, faster and faster, as he climbed to his room.

“We’ll have to watch him.” Anthony’s shrewd eyes turned from Sebastian’s departing back to Derek. “He can’t be trusted now.

“Marlowe could never be trusted,” Derek muttered.

Daniel slipped through the open door looking stricken, another piece of mail in his hand.

“Not now, Daniel,” Seven groaned, sitting down and reaching for his wine. His shoulders sagged against the back of his chair. “There simply isn’t room in this day for one more crisis—be it queen, country, or Catholics. Whatever it is can wait until morning.”

“But . . . milord,” Daniel stammered, holding out the letter. Seven glanced at the decisive writing that marched across the front. “Christ and all His saints.” His fingers rose to touch the paper, then froze. Seven’s throat moved as he struggled for control. Something red and bright appeared in the corner of his eye, then slid down his cheek and splashed onto the folds of his collar. A vampire’s blood tear.

“Our words are of little consequence now that this has arrived. You must be on French soil within the next week. Otherwise Michael will set out for England,” Derek mumbled.

“My father cannot come here, Derek. It is impossible.”

“Of course it’s impossible. The queen would have his head after all he’s done to stir the pot of English politics. You must go to him. So long as you travel night and day, you will have plenty of time,” Derek assured him.

“I can’t.” Seven’s gaze was fixed on the unopened letter.

“Michael will have horses waiting. You will be back before long,” Anthony murmured, resting his hand on his uncle’s shoulder.

Seven looked up, eyes suddenly wild. “It’s not the distance. It’s—” Seven stopped abruptly.

“He’s your mother’s husband, man. Surely you can trust Michael—unless you’ve been lying to him as well.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed. “Sebastian’s right. No one can trust me.” Seven shot to his feet. “My life is a tissue of lies.”

“This isn’t the time or place for your philosophical nonsense, Seven. Even now Michael wonders if he has lost another son!” Anthony exclaimed. “Leave the girl with us, get on your horse, and do what your father commands. If you don’t, I’ll knock you out and Derek will carry you there.”

“You must be very sure of yourself, Anthony, to issue me orders,” Seven said, a dangerous edge to his tone. He braced his hands on the chimneypiece and stared into the fire.

“I’m sure of my grandfather. Ysabeau made you a wearh, but it is Michael’s blood that courses through my veins.”

Anthony’s words wounded Seven. His head snapped up when the blow landed, raw emotion overcoming his usual impassiveness.

“George, Tom, go upstairs and see to Sebastian,” John murmured, pointing his friends to the door. Raleigh inclined his head in Daniel’s direction, and Seven’s servant joined in the efforts to get them out of the room. Calls for more wine and food echoed through the vestibule. Once the two were in Françoise’s care, Daniel returned, shut the door firmly, and placed himself before it. With only John, Henry, Derek, and me there to bear witness to the conversation—along with the silent Daniel—Anthony continued his efforts with Seven.

“You must go to Sept-Tours. He won’t rest until he claims your body for burial or you are standing before him, alive. Michael doesn’t trust Elizabeth—or the Congregation.” Anthony intended his words to bring comfort this time, but Seven’s air of remove remained.

Anthony made an exasperated sound. “Deceive the others—and yourself, if you must. Discuss alternatives all night if you wish. But Auntie’s right: It’s all shite.” Anthony’s voice dropped. “Your Stephanie doesn’t smell right. And you smell older than you did last week. I know the secret you’re both keeping. He’ll know it, too.”

Anthony had deduced that I was a timewalker. One look at Derek told me that he had, too.

“Enough!” John barked.

Anthony and Derek quieted immediately. The reason blinked on John’s little finger: a signet bearing the outlines of Lazarus and his coffin. “So you’re a knight, too,” I said, stunned.

“Yes,” said John tersely.

“And you outrank Derek. What about Anthony?” There were too many overlapping layers of loyalty and allegiance in the room. I was desperate to organize them into a navigable structure.

“I outrank everyone in this room, madam, with the exception of your husband,” Raleigh cautioned. “And that includes you.”

“You have no authority over me,” I shot back. “Exactly what is your role in the de Clermont family’s business, John?”

Over my head, Raleigh’s angry blue eyes met Seven’s. “Is she always like this?”

“Usually,” Seven said drily. “It takes some getting used to, but I rather like it. You

might, too, given time.”

“I already have one demanding woman in my life. I don’t need another,” John snorted. “If you must know, I command the brotherhood in England, Mistress Roydon. Seven cannot do so, given his position on the Congregation. The other members of the family were otherwise