Roses & Haunts Read online

  “Herr Crane, may I present Fraulein Linnet Caprice, daughter of Herr Henry Caprice, the village Governor,” Captain Annoyance was saying. “And this is Fraulein Aloisia Caprice, my ward.”

  Captain Dickhead placed his hand on the small of her back, a gesture meant to be comforting. Also a gesture meant to show ownership of her life, claiming her as his property. Sparks danced in Iowin’s eyes, a reaction he couldn’t hide and a slip that Captain Over-observant didn’t miss. His hand vanished from her back, settling on the handle of his dagger. Blades raised in the moonlight as his men followed the silent signal, glinting harsh and clean and yearning for dark liquid to coat them. Linnet gasped again at the sight of bare steel, all but flinging herself behind Captain Jerrick. He must have expected Alynia to do the same.

  Fat chance of that.

  Alynia dashed forward, interposing herself between Captain Jerrick and her husband. Her hand snapped forward, landing on Knife-Wielder’s wrist.

  “Don’t,” Alynia cried. “Please, it was just a turn of the shadows across Master Crane’s face, that’s all. Shadows play horrible tricks on the mind, don’t they? He didn’t upset me. Please, spare him.”

  Knife-Wielder had gray eyes, too, she noted. Lightly stormy eyes, like clouds after the rain finished falling, and dark brown hair with a slight curl. A tiny scar near his mouth added a kind of dimple to the left side of his face, causing a permanent sort of mischievous half-smile to rest on his lips.

  “Fraulein,” he said, nodding once to her and then to his Captain over her shoulder, slipping his blade back to his side.

  Not into the sheath, she noted. “What is your name, sir?” she asked, pouring every inch of girlishness into the words as she could.

  That surprised him, every bit as much as the warmth of her gloved hand on his arm. “Jonas, my lady,” he replied, his English more refined than his Captain’s. “Lieutenant Jonas Kraus.”

  What in the name of all the hells are you doing, Nia?

  Shush. I’m playing my part.

  By flirting with the man? Didn’t you realize Captain Jerrick provoked me on purpose? He wanted to see what you would do as much as he wanted to see what I’d do.

  Trust me, I’m aware. And I know what I’m doing. As I was so educated before you arrived, a woman has to pretend to be what she isn’t in this time and place.

  Feminism weeps.

  And who was it that said it was a good idea to play our assigned parts in this badly acted play?

  Touché, he thought sourly.

  Her snorted hint of laughter couldn’t have been more well timed. Jonas smiled at her in response, obviously mistaking her reaction for that of a nervous girl attempting to contain her happiness in his company. Which he shouldn’t, considering she was probably older than he was. But in this time of non-Clinique counters and harsh cake-soap facials, she could pass for a girl barely a few summers older than Linnet without a problem. Captain Jerrick certainly hadn’t vocalized a problem with their interaction.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Herr Kraus,” she whispered, lowering her gaze in what she hoped was a flirtatious manner. “Oh, and you as well, Master… was it Krabbe, you said?”

  Really? Krabbe?

  You chose to be Ichabod of all people. That just begs to be mocked. Why not Bram Bones Van Brunt, the village rowdy? Less likely to be bullied.

  I couldn’t find Bram Bones. I found Ichabod, or rather I found his house after he ran for his life. Apparently he had no stomach for a war nearly on his doorstep. He left his letter of introduction behind, though. Useful, that.

  “Crane,” Iowin gritted out between clenched teeth, trying not to glare at the muffled laughter of the soldiers to either side of him. “Ichabod Crane, Fraulein Aloisia. The honor is mine.”

  She turned towards Captain Jerrick. “Why is this man under guard? I mean, if I am allowed to ask, that is.”

  “Herr Crane wandered into village after dusk. I have placed a curfew while the rebels fight near our home, for the safety of all citizens. There are terrors in the night, Fraulein Aloisia, and I would not see them visited upon this peaceful village.”

  The cop in her reared its self-righteous head, breathing the fire of injustice across her soul. Oh, she just bet the curfew was for their protection. Just like the background checks and holding people against their will by, say, drugging them, was simply a minor inconvenience to their non-existent personal liberties. She had to remind herself that things like ‘innocent until proven guilty’ and ‘due process’ were nothing more than pipe dreams currently being smoked up by the actual members of the Continental Congress. If she remembered her history correctly, the ink wasn’t dry yet on the articles penned by the Third Congress meeting.

  Which all meant she had no legal leg to stand on, her beloved laws not yet ratified. No, there was only one law in Sleepy Hollow. Uncle Henry Caprice may be the mayor of this little village, but Captain Liberty-Smasher over there was the one calling the shots.

  “Master Crane,” she repeated, twisting her snarl into a smirk, joining in on the mocking of Iowin’s assumed name. Her hand resting lightly on Jonas’s arm. “I do hope you enjoy your time in this—our little village. Captain, should we not invite Master Crane to dinner tonight, a show of welcome? I’m certain he is weary from his travels and would enjoy a good warm meal.”

  “A lovely idea,” Linnet added. “We can welcome Master Crane and my cousin, Aloisia, in a proper way. Please say you will entertain the idea?”

  “And, if you will spare these two gentlemen,” Alynia added, throwing a rather thinly concealed coquettish smile towards Jonas in particular. “They could ensure Master Crane behaved himself, since he is so new to th--our village?”

  Captain Jerrick considered the request for a long moment, his eyes never leaving hers. Measuring, she was certain, and trying to figure out what game she was playing with him and his men. Maybe it was a trick of the shadows, but she swore she saw his nose twitch slightly. Probably remembering how this ‘helpless little girl’ had broken it and a few of his ribs during their first meeting. She made a show of frowning, lowering her eyes and gripping the sides of her skirts in frustration, then changing her mind and meeting Captain Jerk’s gaze with an expression of seriously-I’m-trying-what-more-do-you-want-from-me. Those full lips tilted into a semblance of a smirk, the tension in his shoulders easing.

  “I agree,” he said at length. “Lady Aloisia should familiarize herself with her new home and its residents. My ward will be kept safe here for some time, I believe,” he stared deep into her eyes, promising a whole other kind of conversation when he got her alone. “To recover from her ordeals, of course.”

  “Of course,” Alynia nodded, actually biting her tongue and accepted his offered arm once again.

  The fingers of her left hand lingered on Jonas’s sleeve though, long enough for the polite distance in his eyes to warm as she stepped away. “Good night, Lieutenant Kraus. I hope to see you later tonight.”

  She flung the curls of her hair behind her shoulders, the rose behind her ear falling to the ground behind them.

  “Bring him,” Captain Jerrick barked.

  As they turned the corner, Alynia saw Iowin immediately bend down to retrieve the rose. Lieutenant Jonas’s blade lifted first, halting Iowin in mid-reach. He bent down instead, capturing the dropped flower and bringing it to his nose. The bloom found itself tucked into the breast pocket of his jacket. Lieutenant Kraus nee Knife-Wielder grabbed Iowin by the upper arm, his partner mirroring him on the other side, dragging him along between them.

  I hope you know what you’re doing, my Nia.

  She swallowed hard. So do I.

  Chapter 9

  “What, exactly, is your deal with my cousin?”

  Captain Jerrick blinked in surprise, nearly choking on a sip of red wine. His azure eyes left the swirl of dancers, focusing solely on his adopted ward. “What do you mean, deal?”

  “It’s quite simple, really,” Alynia flicked open her
fan, waving the painted canvas back and forth in a lazy-like manner. “Do you intend to wed my cousin, or is she nothing more to you than a beautiful war-time distraction?”

  The boldness of her question caught him off guard, so much so that he took a moment to wipe his mouth with a cloth napkin, buying time to phrase his answer. Alynia didn’t bother to hide her smile, giving him all the rope he needed to hang himself. Her own gaze drifted across the lively common room of Mayor Caprice’s Inn, the colorful autumnal decorations of Indian corn and straw bales adding a comforting joy that no mass-marketed plastic decor ever could. The long tables were removed after the initial dinner, leaving space for after-dinner dancing and frivolity. Cups—honest to goodness glass cups—raised to lips, filled with the deliciousness of spiced wines and ciders. In the corner, three gentlemen had shed their outer coats and stood with waistcoats visible, playing softly on violins.

  Despite the number of people in the room, and the lack of air conditioning, the room wasn’t stuffy or hot. Weather patterns in 1789’s Sleepy Hollow (yes, she’d finally conceded to the damn name) apparently followed the trends of modern-day upstate New York. So while it was a touch too cold to move about outside without coats, the open windows and doors of the Inn, combined with a healthy fire in the large central fireplace, created just the right temperature for a party.

  It reminded her so much of her grandmother’s home that she had to smile. The last time she’d been there was during the last family reunion, back when she and Iowin were just beginning to date.

  Stars, the whole thing felt like a lifetime ago.

  Don’t do that, Iowin whispered, and she had to force her eyes away from the corner where he sat. We’re going home. I promise.

  I’m not so sure about that anymore. We’re surrounded by enemies on all sides.

  You have your family.

  She fanned herself, using the thing to shield the direction of her glance. Linnet Caprice sat next to Lieutenant Kraus, chatting amicably over two glasses of amber liquid, the rose from the garden twirling in one hand, matching the rose on his lapel. Alynia hoped it was the spiced apple cider and not the moonshine whiskey in their glasses. It wasn’t like there were regulations on the making of that stuff yet. Good ol’ Jack Daniels wouldn’t take the world by storm until the 1850’s, and she doubted the founding of the ATF or the USDA was particularly high on President Washington’s To-Do’s. The last thing she needed was a tipsy-possibly-poisoned Linnet growing a spine and lobbing magic all over the party.

  I’m not sure we can fully trust Linnet. I think she’s the heart of this whole problem.

  Iowin returned his attention to his book, idly turning a page. How so?

  She admitted to casting a protection spell on Captain Anal Retentive over here.

  Mentally, he shook his head. You need to study more, beloved. A protection spell wouldn’t have the juice to—

  From her mother’s inherited spell book, Iowin.

  He considered that a moment. The curse on your family happened over two thousand years ago. I don’t think that’s the problem. She’d need a lot more juice than an old spell to grant immortality to someone.

  Her hand rose to her amulet, fingertips brushing it gently. I don’t know. I held the book for about a minute and I can feel its echo through my own power. It… amplified the amulet I wear somehow. I felt it like a second heartbeat on my skin.

  You think the book is an artifact all by itself?

  Possibly. Like I said, you really need to see it.

  Iowin slouched a bit on the wooden bench, adopting a posture that stated for all the world that he’d rather be elsewhere. Perhaps someplace quiet where he could read in peace. We’ll figure it out. After this party, we’ll find a way to meet and formulate a plan.

  Deal. Just don’t eat or drink anything for the rest of the night, okay?

  Why? His eyes narrowed behind the book. She could feel it. Drugs?

  Drugs, she confirmed. And magic. If they want you drugged in this place, you’re going to get super thirsty and hungry without realizing it. They got me with it and kept me under for a day.

  Sparks of rage danced along her skin, an echo from the wrath burning inside his heart. It always had to be drugs, and always mingled with some sort of dark magic. Maybe they’d missed their calling in the mortal world. Maybe they were meant to be DEA instead of homicide. Thank you for the warning. I’ll take precautions.

  Be careful, my love. The people in this village all have their own agendas, and I don’t think any of them are on the same level with each other. I’m… I think I’m truly afraid.

  You’re not, he replied firmly.

  How do you know?

  Because I’m not hip-deep in bodies, Nia. You don’t get scared. You get pissed. And when that happens…

  She was glad for the fan Linnet had given her before dinner. It hid the smirk quite nicely. Bodies meet floor, I get it. If we get stuck here, that’s going to happen a lot.

  Iowin glanced up from the book he pretended to read, eyes drifting across the sea of dancers with the casual boredom of a man at a party who didn’t know anyone. His gaze lingered on hers long enough for her to feel his love before moving on.

  We’re going home. He thought firmly. Bet on it. Know it in your heart. I promised you forever, Alynia Caprice Tintreach. Either here in the past or home in the future, forever is forever. I love you.

  I love you, Iowin Tintreach. Forever and ever and ever after that.

  Dammit, those crystal tears were back in her eyes. Since when did she become such a crybaby? It must be all that pretending-to-be-girlie-crap.

  “Don’t do that,” Captain Jerrick echoed, grasping her chin gently between thumb and forefinger and lifting her face to his. “You were smiling so lovely a moment ago. Do not think of the things that make you cry. That life is behind you now.”

  “You misinterpret what makes me happy and what makes me sad, Captain,” she pulled her chin away. “This place is my sorrow, and my so-called previous life is my joy.”

  “Only for now. Your heart will heal along with your constitution.”

  “Spoken like a man that has never been in love,” she quipped. “Well, I suppose that answers my question. Good evening, Captain Jerk.”

  She spun on her heel to go. His hand touched her elbow, two fingers applying gentle pressure. She paused, knowing if she didn’t the rest of the fingers would follow. Plastering a fake smile on her lips, one she knew he’d see right through, she spun back around. “Yes, Captain?”

  He frowned, concern and confusion warring with his features. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you fight me so much, Aloisia?”

  “What happened to the Fraulein prefix, Captain?”

  “You are my ward, formally presented and introduced to the rest of this village’s society. Familiarity between us is expected. You no longer need to address me as Captain.”

  “Okay, then,” she replied with her best and most lovely smile. “Screw you, Jerrick von Knyphausen. How’s that for familiarity?”

  Yup, she was right. The rest of the hand followed, and the pressure was every bit as painful as she expected. Her smile froze on her lips, glaring at him.

  “You’re hurting me, Jerk.”

  “I expect you to behave yourself properly in public, Aloisia.”

  “And I always expect you to be truthful with me. Looks like we’re both disappointed tonight.”

  She tugged at her arm, his fingers locking around the joint and pulling her closer. Not enough to cause a scene, but enough to discourage anyone from starring in their direction too long or being foolish enough to interrupt.

  “Answer me, my ward,” True exasperation peppered each word. “Why are you unhappy? Why are you provoking me tonight?”

  “Linnet.”

  He blinked again. “What of her?”

  Alynia leaned in closer, felt his fingers release her, his hand resting on her shoulder in a fatherly way. “She loves yo
u, you giant idiot,” she whispered hotly. “This isn’t some foolish girlhood crush on the dashing Captain. This is real to her. She’s expecting a ring and a promise of ‘till death do you part’ if you get my meaning. If you’re not all in with her, you need to let her go. And while you're at it, you need to let me go, too.”

  “Nein, impossible. I have named you my ward. That cannot be undone.”

  “Just what is your infatuation with me, anyway? You don’t know the first thing about me, and all of a sudden you’re all about the protecting and honoring and all that jazz.”

  “What is… jazz?”

  Christ, she really needed to ease up on the pop culture references around this place. “It’s a place in France, okay. Anyway, that’s not the point. What’s your deal with me? I’m an adult. I’m married. I don’t need to be anyone’s ward.”

  “You are a mystery.”

  “And that’s all that’s needed to take away someone’s freedom, being a mystery?”

  “Nein, fighting like a man on a battlefield is one. A second is your speech, your mannerism. Thirdly,” he dropped his voice to a whisper, his lips brushing her ear. “Thirdly is your magical talisman. You are a witch, Aloisia, or a Valkyrie who has chosen my men for some unknown reason. I know it, for I should have died several times in the days before your arrival. The night you arrived, I prayed to all the gods for deliverance or understanding of this unliving state. You appeared, and your talisman is a weapon of extraordinary strength.”

  Oh, bloody hell in a handbasket, this so wasn’t good. The talisman in question had to be her gun. He had her fucking gun. And to him, yes, it would be magic just for its design. Hell, just for the fact it was clip-fed and didn’t require the powder to be kept dry to use it more than once. Not to mention that it really was magic—in her or Iowin’s hands at least. She opened her mouth to defend herself, and he lifted a hand, shaking his head.

  “I have performed all the known cures to remove your power from me and save your soul. Exorcism by the priests while you slept, garlic and herbs in your food. Wild roses against your skin or your hair to prevent your power. The lining of the gown you now wear bears a cross of thread-of-gold smeared with holy water and hand-stitched by a priest. I took your name away from you, your supposed source of power. Your will continues to govern me, continues to hide Sleepy Hollow from the rest of the world. I want to know why. Why me, and why this village?”