My Big Fat Supernatural Wedding (37 page)

With Talents it was different. Each bearer of Talent in a Great Family, male 
and
 female, respectively, selected a boy and girl of the next generation to inherit that line's magic. Inheritance was not dependent upon the matrimonial state of the heir.

When the elder died or chose to surrender his or her powers, the younger successor received the Talent in full measure.

Emma was almost certainly Lady Wakefield's chosen heir. She might possess some Residual form of her mother's gift.

"Have you heard anything of her maternal line's Talent?" Kit persisted. "Edward has never mentioned it, which leads me to believe that Lady Wakefield's line is one that prefers to keep the nature of its magic hidden from the world."

Rather like Kit himself, whose Wild Magic would not be considered quite acceptable in good society. It carried the stigma of illegitimacy and the Cymry and Eirish rebellions, of dark ceremonies chanted over ancient altars in the black of night.

A Talented family only concealed the form of its magic when said gift either was embarrassingly trivial, like a commoner's Residual knack, or carried darker implications. Such concealment was considered somewhat bad form, and could arouse suspicion . . . but the countess's secret had certainly not prevented the Earl of Wakefield from marrying her, or obtaining an excellent match for their daughter.

"Emma has never spoken of it, either," Olivia said. "I always assumed it was a minor and useless ability, like calling up an unpleasant odor." Her eyes narrowed.

"Do you think the Eirishman's objection had something to do with her family Talent?"

"I can't imagine any Talent that would provide a real obstacle to the marriage."

"Nor can I. Well, once we find Emma, we shall simply have to persuade her to speak."

On that note they reached Olivia's hotel, where she alighted to pack her belongings while Kit made his own arrangements. Though the rules of strict propriety dictated that Olivia should take her maid on any excursion with a bachelor, the situation was not precisely conducive to propriety. It required the utmost discretion. And though Alice was far from unfamiliar with the workings of Great Family magic, she would return to Waveney Hall the next morning.

At sunset, just as Olivia was setting down her book on the life of Elizabeth III, she heard the expected knock at her door. Alice answered it and showed Kit into the room.

"I've found her trail," he said, grinning as he removed his spectacles. His eyes still burned with the Black Dog's crimson light. "She took the Oxford road."

Olivia dismissed Alice and offered Kit a glass of his favorite whiskey. "How was she traveling?"

"By carriage, or I might not have located her." He downed the whiskey in one swallow. "She must have hired a Residual to cover her tracks, but it wasn't enough to draw me off the scent."

"How far did you follow her?"

"Not far. I came back for you." He glanced about the small sitting room. "Are you ready?"

"Of course. I"

Another loud rapping came at the door, and with scarcely a pause Edward burst through.

"Kit!" he said. "I hoped I'd find you here." He bowed stiffly to Olivia. "Lady Olivia. I am sorry to disturb you, but. . ." He blew out his cheeks, looked straight at the whiskey carafe, and charged for the sideboard. "May I?"

"Of course." Olivia poured for him, judging that he was in no state to drink more than a little of the potent stuff. "You have heard nothing from Lady Emma?"

"Nothing." He drained the snifter and set it down with a trembling hand. "It's intolerable. There's no telling what predicament she has" His voice thickened, and he swallowed. "I've come to ask for your help, Meredith. No one can seem to locate Emma, but I know that you . . ." He cleared his throat, peering with fascination into Kit's redtinted eyes. "You have certain"

"Shadowy abilities?" Kit offered wryly. "Wild Magic?"

Edward flushed, and the longdead ashes in the grate suddenly began to spark. "I beg your pardon. I assume that Lady Olivia knows ..."

"Oh yes," Olivia said, striving to inject a little lightness into the conversation.

"I've known since we were children."

"And it's hardly a secret anymore," Kit added, "at least not from my friends, though I'd prefer that it 
remain
among friends."

"Naturally," Edward said, looking relieved. "Can you help me?"

" 
We
 shall help you," Olivia said. "Kit has discovered the way she took out of London, and now it is only a matter of"

"Bless you," Edward said, seizing her hands. He noticed the bags standing alongside the sofa. "But you are leaving . . ."

"Only to find Emma," Olivia said. "I won't advertise that I am traveling alone with two unmarried gentlemen if you will not."

"I shall defend your honor with my life ... as I will defend Emma's."

"You are not troubled by the mysterious objection?"

"It is obvious to me that my fiancee is in some sort of trouble," he said fiercely,

"and I shall do whatever is necessary to get her out of it."

"No matter what our investigation may uncover?" Kit asked.

"You haven't known Emma long," he said to his friend. "She has changed immeasurably since she returned from the Continent. Our marriage was desired by both our families, and we were engaged before she went away for her health." He stared at the carpet. "I confess that I did not love her then. I found her spoiled and more than a little arrogant, but I was prepared to do my duty. I was not prepared for the woman who came home to Albion."

"I did not know her well in those days, either," Olivia confessed. "We are distant cousins but had few occasions to meet. Now it seems that everyone wishes to be near her."

"Yes," Edward said, "and with good reason. Generosity and love of life have replaced vanity and overindulgence." His voice softened. "She seems almost a different person."

"You love her very much," Olivia said, glancing shyly at Kit.

"More than life itself." He glared at the coals in the grate, which gave up their feeble attempts to blaze with a gasp of gray smoke. "That is why I cannot bear . . .

might we leave soon?"

"Immediately." She hesitated. "Is there anyone you wish to inform?"

"No. Better by far that Emma's family know nothing of this until.. . until we have found her."

"Very well. Give me a moment to speak with my maid."

Olivia hurried into the bedroom to consult with Alice and returned to find that the men had already taken up her baggage and were champing at the bit. Olivia's own coachman was waiting on the street, and the three of them climbed into the carriage as the last of the light faded from the overcast London sky.

Once they had reached the western outskirts of the city, Kit disappeared and made his transformation. The Black Dog burst from a thick patch of shrubbery, his great shaggy coat exuding steam, his red eyes burning with eagerness to begin the hunt. With a booming 
woof
 he bounded away, setting off on the Oxford road.

"What happened to his clothes?" Edward asked as the carriage set off after Kit.

"Surely he didn't leave them in a pile behind the shrubbery."

Olivia laughed. "Hardly. He 'takes' his clothing with him . . . though what actually becomes of it I have no notion. It's magic."

"Of course." Edward sighed. "And I suppose he is tireless and can run for hundreds of miles without stopping?"

"Wild Magic is often that way, though it also possesses its share of disadvantages. I have reminded Kit that we are not quite so resilient. He knows we'll have to make frequent stops to change horses and take meals, though in Black Dog form he can be rather impatient."

True to her assertions, Kit ranged far ahead and returned frequently to eye his human companions with crimson glares of disapproval. At High Wycombe the coachman and his passengers paused to change horses and share a quick meal. The moon had risen, and Edward supplemented its light with a ball of firea miniature sun that he held in place above the carriage. His magical strength was nearly spent by the time Kit finally came to a halt at Oxford's city limits.

"This is as far as my nose takes me," Kit said, emerging from behind a byre at the town's edge. He adjusted his spectacles. "There is a large train station here. It seems likely that she boarded once she was confident that no one followed her."

Edward, pale with exhaustion and fear for Emma, flung himself into a bout of furious pacing. "Can you track her on a train?"

"I fear not. But you mustn't give up hope, old man."

"And there must be some in town who saw her," Olivia said, "at least in the vicinity of the train station. We shall go at once."

"In the middle of the night?" Edward asked.

"There will still be people at the station," she said. "I doubt that any of us can sleep. I certainly could not."

The men agreed, and so they went on to the station, whereafter an impatient attempt by Edward to intimidate the ticket seller Olivia insisted upon asking the questions. Though she used all her charm, it soon became evident that the fellow was not being entirely forthcoming. His heartbeat was much too fast, and sweat flooded from his pores.

"He's lying," Kit said. "I could smell it from here."

"I'll get the truth out of him," Edward snarled, snapping a flame to life between his fingers.

Olivia winced. The last thing they needed was a hotheaded Lucifer getting out of hand. She placed her fingertips on Edward's arm.

"We shall learn the truth," she promised. "Why don't you and Kit wait here while I learn who else might have seen Emma."

With much grumbling and his friend's encouragementfor Kit well knew that Olivia could take care of herselfEdward consented. Olivia made the rounds of the station, finding a few employees and a handful of passengers waiting for the next train. None of them admitted to seeing a darkhaired, pretty young woman travel

ing alone.

At last Olivia returned to the one man she knew had something to hide. The ticket seller was just as stubbornly uncooperative as before, and Olivia finally resorted to bringing Kit along for motivation. One glance at Old Shuck convinced the terrified agent that he was best served by honesty.

"They said they'd pay me well if I kept me mouth shut," he said, mopping his forehead with a damp handkerchief. "They also said they'd be . . . most unhappy if I said aught about"

"Who are 'they'?" Kit demanded.

"I don't know." The man squeezed his eyes closed. "Important toffs, they was, but they didn't want nobody to recognize 'em. I saw when they met the lady . . .

just like the one you described, ma'am."

"She did not go willingly?"

"Not as I could see. They carried her off to their carriage, and"

A streak of fire shot narrowly past Olivia's head, slipped through the window of the ticket booth, and dropped to the ground at the agent's feet. He yelped and danced wildly to put it out.

"Where did they go?" Edward said in a dangerously soft voice.

The man shrank in on himself, trembling. "East, 'at's all I know. All I know."

"He's telling the truth," Olivia said. "Kit, we'll require your services again."

Fortunately, there was only one road leading east out of town. Once they had changed horses again and collected a hasty dawn breakfast of bread, cheese, and freshly picked berries, the Black Dog sniffed out the trail without undue difficulty.

It led them to Cheltenham and another set of fresh horses ... as well as an innkeeper who reluctantly admitted to having seen a number of "rough characters" with a lovely young woman headed east.

Edward was nearly beside himself, but Olivia managed to calm him before he set the inn afire. On they traveled through the morning, skirting Gloucester and Hereford. Inevitably the road branched into any number of smaller lanes, and at each one Kit sat on his massive haunches, pricked his long, silky ears, and sucked air through his broad, black nose until he had isolated the desired scent.

It was by such winding back roadsand after making several stops throughout the long daythat they came to the river Wye, which led at last to the border of Cymru.

The hilly country was interlaced with pockets of dense woodland, secret valleys, and isolated farmsteads, any one of which could have concealed an abducted young woman and her captors.

Kit never gave up. He made clear that the others were to wait with the carriage while he ranged ahead. Olivia, Edward, and the coachman shared the last of their luncheon of sausage and meat pies and nursed the bumps and bruises of the long and difficult ride. Olivia kept up a steady patter of soothing conversation to distract Edward, who smoldered like a peat fire barely contained under the earth.

The Black Dog returned with the setting of the sun. He quickly changed and approached Edward with very sensible wariness.

"I've found her," he said. Edward leaped up. Kit gripped his friend's shoulder.

"Steady, my lad. She's in the hands of several very competentlooking fellows, and there are guards outside the byre where they're keeping her."

"Is she hurt?"

"I was only able to catch a glimpse through a window, but she seems unharmed,"

Kit said. "She is bound, however, and they appear to be questioning her."

Edward rattled off a string of obscenities, hardly remembering to beg Olivia's pardon. "By God," he rasped. "I'll. . . I'll. . ."

"You'll remain calm, and we shall approach this as rational beings, not children,"

Olivia chided. She met Kit's gaze. "How many men did you say?"

"Ten, at most, including the guards."

"And we are three."

"I won't have the law involved in this," Edward said.

"No need," Kit said. "One of the Black Dog's most useful skills is the ability to arouse fright in most men . . . especially since he is often a harbinger of death in myth and legend." He grinned. "Let me handle the guards. You and Livvy wait until I give the signal, and then we'll deal with the rest"he pinned Olivia with a particularly meaningful stare"when it's 
safe
 to do so."