Bitten (The Graced Series Book 2)

by Amanda Pillar

  Dante hesitated. “Misty, I thought you might want to come over and meet our sister.”

  So, Fin thought, this was the child from their father’s first alliance. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, but despite her bright, slightly vapid smile, her eyes were hard.

  “Our sister?”

  Dante nodded. “This is Hannah.”

  “Lady Hannah Romanov,” Tatiana corrected.

  Misty’s gaze flicked from Dante to Hannah and then back again. Fin stepped in closer to Hannah, lending her silent support. If this Misty rejected her...Dante seemed more interested in Hannah’s gift, rather than in Hannah herself. Fin didn’t want to see another such reaction.

  “And I’m Lady Mistique Kipling, Viscountess of Kipling.” The blonde vampire swept forward, hands outstretched to hug Hannah.

  But Hannah stepped back, away from her new sister. Or old sister. However it worked. “Nice to meet you.” She smiled, but her action had been clearly perceived as a rejection.

  “Really?”

  Dante put a hand on Misty’s arm. “Don’t take it personally. She can’t touch anyone except her mother and the human.”

  Her pale lavender eyes swept over Fin. “How convenient.”

  “She has a...disability,” Tatiana said.

  “Really.” Not a question this time.

  “She can read the memories of anyone she touches,” Dante explained. “Except for those who have a natural defense against it.”

  “Dante!” exclaimed several people at once.

  Misty laughed, incredulous. “Really?”

  Must be her favorite word, Fin thought. Or maybe she just has a limited vocabulary?

  “It’s true,” Hannah said, surprising Fin. “I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

  He took her hand and she gently squeezed his in response.

  Misty’s eyes dropped to their clasped palms. “You can seriously only touch that human and your mother?”

  Hannah nodded. “And the baby, for now.”

  “Baby?”

  “It’s a long story,” Fin said.

  “Well, I’m sure we will have time.” Misty smiled, and this time it seemed more genuine.

  As they resumed walking to the dining room, Dante said, “I still think you should touch the latest victim.”

  “Excuse me?” Misty asked.

  “Well, if Hannah can pick up memories, then if she were to touch the latest victim in the vampire killings, she might find out who the murderer is.”

  Chapter 63

  Hannah was alone. Sitting in the back of the cart, her forearms resting on her knees, all she had for company were her spinning thoughts. Fin and Byrne had been offered rooms at the Greystoke townhouse, and they’d taken Rena inside for her evening bath. Tatiana had wanted Hannah to return to the hotel with her, but Hannah couldn’t sleep in the hired room, not with all the things in there made by others. And they’d had the cart brought around to the Greystoke property, complete with Betty, Foxtrot and Baldy. At least Hannah knew she could sleep in there.

  Reluctantly, her mother had left her in the stables, promising to return early the following day.

  What had her life become?

  She’d finally seen her mother, had her burgeoning relationship with Fin outed, met her twin brother, her half-sister, and had her secret exposed to a group of people she’d never seen before this evening. In a month, she’d gone from living in isolation on a mountain, to having a family and — dare she say it — a lover.

  Poor Fin.

  He’d looked almost offended when Byrne had announced that he was Hannah’s boyfriend. She’d have to talk to him and let him know that she was okay with it, if he didn’t want to continue whatever it was that they had. It might just kill her to do it, but she would. Dropping her head into her hands, she let out a sobbing laugh. How had she managed to be so stupid as to fall in love with the human?

  And why had she only come to terms with it now?

  “Hello?”

  A small face appeared above the cart’s rear tray. It was the little girl from the dinner. Her nut-brown skin had a smear of dust on it, and half her hair had fallen out of its ponytail, but her bright, blue-green eyes were cheerful in the yellow lamplight.

  “Can I come in? Your goat is trying to eat my ribbon.”

  Hannah darted forward and thrust her head out of the wagon. “Betty!”

  The goat turned soulful brown eyes on Hannah, her lips still at work nibbling the girl’s sash.

  “Sure,” Hannah said. “But you can’t touch me.”

  Sliding back, Hannah made room for the child. She clambered abroad, quietly berating Betty who refused to release her end of the ribbon.

  “Does your sister know you’re here?” Hannah had gathered that the half-Graced woman Dante had Chosen was the girl’s older sister.

  Scrunching her face up, the girl shook her head. “She thinks I’m in bed.”

  “Maybe you should go back then?” Hannah said uneasily.

  “Elle ruins all my fun. Anyway, you won’t hurt me, because you can’t touch me.” The child’s logic was reasonably sound, although Hannah had learned that she would fight through the memories to kill if she had someone worth protecting, other than herself. She wasn’t worth it. But Fin, Rena and Byrne were.

  “My name is Hannah,” she said, embarrassed to note that she didn’t know the child’s name. There had been so many new faces, it had been hard to keep track.

  “I know. I’m Emmie.”

  “Just Emmie?” Hannah asked with a smile.

  The child frowned. “Esmeralda, but I hate it.”

  “I see. Emmie it is.”

  Emmie sat, her legs folded under her. Fiddling with the chewed end of her ribbon, she looked at Hannah, her Teal eyes bright. “How does it feel to be different?”

  So the child had heard about Hannah’s ability. Hannah didn’t think that anyone could have missed it.

  “It’s difficult,” Hannah said. She could have lied, but then, what would be the point? Hannah had eyes in her head, and she could see that Emmie’s bright irises weren’t normal.

  “Does it get less difficult?” Emmie asked.

  “It would depend on your ability, I think,” Hannah said. “I don’t have a strong natural mental shield, so I absorb other people’s memories. However, I think that if I were to practice more, it might help. But I have lived almost entirely alone my whole life as a result.”

  “At least I can be around people,” the girl said.

  “That would be nicer.”

  “But you aren’t alone anymore. You have your human. The pretty one.”

  Hannah let out a surprised laugh. Fin wasn’t even here and he had a lingering effect on a female. Sure, this one was a child, but even she’d spotted his good looks.

  “He is rather pretty,” she agreed.

  “I think he knows it, though,” Emmie said.

  Hannah leaned forward, lowering her voice to a mock whisper. “I think he does, too.”

  Emmie grinned, but the expression faded. “Can I touch you?”

  “I just said that I can’t touch people—”

  “—who don’t have natural shields. I do.”

  “You do?”

  “I think it’s to do with my ability,” Emmie said, reaching out a hand. “Me and Elle both have one. I don't know why Elle does, but then, our Gran was a very strong Green. Maybe it was a defensive thing.”

  Hesitantly Hannah stretched out her palm. At the contact with the girl, her skin tingled, and warmth spread throughout her body, centering on her stomach. But nothing else happened. No memories, no crash of having her own personality overlaid by someone else’s. It was just Hannah and Emmie. Two separate people.

  Letting go, Hannah smiled. “Nothing.”

  Emmie nodded, as if that’s exactly what she’d expected. “Well, you’re a vampire.”

  “Half a vampire.”

  Emmi
e shook her head. “You’re pretty much whole vampire, just a tiny bit of Graced.” She held her fingers an inch apart, to show how small the percentage was.

  Then it all clicked. “You could tell that just by touching me?”

  “I’m not meant to talk about it.”

  Hannah nodded. She could understand that, better than anyone else. Perhaps that’s why Emmie had sought her out.

  “That’s okay,” Hannah said.

  Emmie leaned closer, looking from side to side, as if checking to make sure they were alone. “I can heal people.”

  “That’s—”

  “Dangerous,” Emmie finished.

  “Amazing,” Hannah said instead. “I wish I had something like that.”

  Emmie’s eyes went wide. “You do?”

  Hannah took Emmie’s hand again. The girl’s skin contrasted against hers. Physical contact was still surreal to her. “I can’t touch anyone, except for a handful of rare individuals. You can touch everyone. And make them better. I would love to have your ability.”

  The young girl looked thoughtful. “I never thought of it like that.”

  “Your ability is a gift, mine is a curse.”

  Emmie nodded at her. “Well, you have a baby. That is a good thing.”

  Hannah smiled. That was true.

  Chapter 64

  Walking down the halls of the Crystal Palace, toward the king’s chambers, he heard hushed talking.

  “It’s unbelievable, but she really thinks it’s true. Her mother didn’t deny it, either.”

  He frowned, silently moving closer to the end of the hallway. It split into a T-intersection, and the talker — that bloody bitch, Misty — was on either side. Pausing about three yards from the end, he stood next to a stone statue of a naked man. Its private parts were covered by a fig leaf, which had always made him think the poor lad hadn’t been very well-endowed.

  “It could be true.” That was King Johan’s voice. He’d recognize it anywhere.

  Misty’s voice rose incredulously. “That she can steal people’s memories?”

  Steal people’s memories?

  For once, he found himself in agreement with the airhead; that was ridiculous.

  “If she thinks she can, and the Duchess of Ravens believes it, I’d be inclined to believe it, too.”

  “Johan, be serious.”

  He scowled at the disrespect Misty’s casual manner of address showed the king, but he wasn’t about to announce his presence and defend the monarch. It wasn’t his place, for one.

  Wait, did she say the Duchess of Ravens? That woman was terrifying. He’d seen her at a distance when she’d visited the palace, and she’d sent a shudder down his spine. He wouldn’t want her anywhere near him — and he’d managed to successfully kill four vampires now. Imagine being her child. He almost felt sorry for the daughter.

  “I am serious,” said King Johan.

  “So there’s some validity to my brother’s idea?”

  “That she should touch the newest corpse to learn the identity of the killer? Why not?”

  Cold fear flushed through him. He might think the lot of these people fools, but if there was a vampire in Pinton who could touch the dead and see their memories, then that vampire would have to die.

  Nothing could interfere with his work.

  Chapter 65

  The carriage had deposited them outside Tal’s place, on the corner of Court Road and Marcus Drive. The journey there had been passed in uncomfortable silence, and Alice couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Apart from you practically inviting that were over to your bed?” Tal snapped.

  “What?”

  “I mean, you’re normally so sensible, despite the fact you don’t date much. But a were?”

  “Tal! I asked if he wouldn’t mind painting my ceiling. You’re acting like I proposed to him.”

  “As if he even believed you want him to paint your ceiling. I don’t.”

  “You are constantly trying to get me to date people, and when I show the slightest bit of interest in someone, you get angry.” Hurt welled deep within her. Tal was one of the two people who had stood by her no matter what, and now she was judging her? Because she’d been stupid enough to ask a stranger over to her apartment.

  Stupid or brave?

  Not that Alice had actually believed the were would want to come over to her apartment or even date her. She’d just blurted out the first thing that had popped into her mind, and she really did need to get rid of that patch of green.

  “Weres are dangerous.”

  “You’re dating a vampire!” Alice cried in exasperation.

  “I can handle myself.” Tal’s expression was fierce.

  “You’re human, just like me. Why can you handle a vampire any better than me?”

  “I just can,” Tal said bluntly.

  “Fine. You go ahead and date whoever you want, and feel free to judge me because I simply asked someone for a favor. Get off your high horse, Tal! I have supported you in every decision you make, no matter that I worry about you. You could at least give me the same courtesy.” With that, Alice strode away, not bothering to look back to see if her friend was following. If Tal called after her, she was too angry to hear.

  She crossed Court Road and stormed down the sidewalk toward her street. Suddenly there was someone in her way and she almost slammed face-first into them. Looking up, and up, she realized it was the were from the dinner party.

  In the street.

  Right in front of her.

  “Uh—”

  Byrne ran a hand over his closely cropped hair, a sheepish expression on his face. “I just wanted to make sure you got home okay, and then I saw you have your...talk...with your friend.”

  Heat worked its way into her cheeks. Would she forever be blushing around him? It was embarrassing. “Thanks, I think.”

  “I know it’s a bit stalkerish, at least, that’s what Fin would tell me if I had bothered to ask his opinion. But you’re human, and this is a vampire town.” His nostrils flared, as if he could scent the vampires in the very air.

  Fin was the blond-haired human. Right. His friend.

  But even though he was a strange were who’d just shown up outside her doorstep, she didn’t mind. He’d done it to protect her.

  Because you’re weak.

  She ignored the voice in her head — Byrne was being chivalrous, and there was a sore shortage of that kind of sentiment in her world.

  Her exhalations were forming into mist; they couldn’t just keep standing in the street. She gave Byrne what she hoped was a winning smile. “Would you like to come up for a cup of tea?”

  His answering grin was swift, and it stole a little of her breath away. “I’d love to.”

  Side-stepping the huge were, Alice headed toward her apartment building, opened the entry and then climbed the stairs. Byrne had to duck to get in the door, but it didn’t bother him as far as she could tell. She unlocked her front door, dropped her keys in the bowl on the side table, and then indicated that he should follow her inside. They emerged into the lounge room and kitchen area, and Alice was glad suddenly for the stupidly tall ceiling. At least it meant Byrne could stand comfortably.

  As she filled the kettle with water and popped it on the stove, Byrne’s sexily deep voice rumbled through the apartment. “I see what you mean by the painting thing.”

  He was gazing up at that taunting patch of green on her ceiling. “Whoever paints a ceiling green?” she grumbled.

  He laughed, and then gingerly sat down on her couch. There was just enough room for her to squeeze in next to him...or she could sit on the chair opposite. She had a feeling she’d been squeezing her way onto that couch.

  What had gotten into her?

  *

  Byrne had high-tailed it out of the dinner. His skin had been itchy, as if his bear wanted out, and he couldn’t stand to be aro
und others. Even Clay, a were he’d known since he was a cub, was grating him. It had to be because of the little slip of a human woman, with her pretty hair and autumn-leaf eyes, and a figure to die for. Literally; it might kill him if he never got to touch her.

  How pathetic was he?

  And so he’d followed the carriage, seen Alice and Talan fighting; he’d even heard the words, from his semi-hidden position down the road. They’d been arguing about him.

  It was clear that Alice had no idea her friend was Graced, so Byrne could understand her hurt to learn her friend thought she was too weak to be with a were. That she was stupid for even wanting to spend time with him.

  As if he would ever hurt her.

  But then Alice had invited him upstairs, and he’d almost toppled over from surprise. He’d followed her, because he wasn’t an idiot, no matter what Fin said when it came to Byrne and women. It was just that until now he hadn’t found one who had captured his interest so thoroughly. Inside her apartment, it smelled even more strongly of chocolate and sin, to the point that when he took a seat on the couch, he had to grab one of her bright orange cushions to hold over his lap.

  The kettle whistled and Alice poured the water into a pot. They made small talk, his nerves ensuring he wouldn’t remember much of it later, as she gently placed two teacups on the small coffee table before him. He was sure that she would take the seat opposite, but she surprised him by squishing herself into the small space next to him.

  “Do you have a surname?” Alice asked.

  Suddenly self-conscious, he ran his fingers over the smooth fibers on the cushion. “Torben. Byrne Torben. I don’t really use it much.”

  Alice held out her hand, and without thinking, he shook it. “Nice to meet you Byrne Torben.”

  He let go, but reluctantly. The feel of her skin against his was electrifying. Even his bear rumbled with pleasure.

  “I really did mean it, about the painting thing,” Alice said, concentrating on the teacup in her hands.

  Byrne grinned. “I gathered.” Her house was neat as a pin, everything placed with the utmost care. He was worried that he might accidentally knock something and ruin the order she had so painstakingly imposed. “But I hope you don’t plan on having me paint it now.”