Granted by the Beast: A Steamy Paranormal Romance Spin on Beauty and the Beast (Conduit Series Book 4)

by Rebecca Hamilton

  I stepped between the two of them, needing to act as a buffer before my brain exploded from the sexual vibes. “Enough of that. You pulled me away from my home, away from my work. You say you and your family know everything about me? Then you should know I don’t have time to waste. So, unless you want to be magically twisted into the human equivalent of a pretzel, I suggest you start explaining yourself.”

  Stacey blinked while she was staring directly at me, and something passed over her face, though it wasn’t fear. Instead, it looked like curious bemusement. “I had a feeling you might say that.”

  She chuckled at her own joke, looked away, and shook her head as she took another puff of her cigarette while staring into space.

  She must have known that, regardless of what she said or did next, I wasn’t going to follow through on magically assaulting her. I wasn’t that kind of Conduit. I wasn’t that kind of woman. Still, making threats had become a habit. Usually it went a long way, but it was starting to sink in that that wouldn’t be the case when it came to the Tellers.

  Still, her reaction told me quite a bit about her character. Even things I’m sure she didn’t really want me to know. Although, to play devil’s advocate, she probably knew exactly what she was doing.

  Well, I’d prove us both wrong. I would be that kind of Conduit today.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Stacey said.

  My hand hadn’t even clasped together to summon the magic needed to send a jolt of pain through her, the offensive maneuver I was going to throw at her to prove I meant business. Still, it seemed Stacey was prepared.

  “We’re going to have a conversation,” she continued. “It’s going to be enlightening and frustrating, and you’re going to end up disliking me more than you already do. But it’ll prove important and necessary all the same. So, there’s no need in magically twisting my arm.” The woman winked at me. “Though, I have to admit, this is going to make a hell of an addition to my maid-of-honor toast at your wedding.”

  My jaw tightened. I didn’t know if Stacey was screwing with me or not, but whatever the truth was, I didn’t have time to unpack it right now. At the moment, there was no time to waste, and we needed every second we could get.

  “Then start talking,” I said flatly, demanding some sort of action. “What did you do to Abram?”

  Stacey chuckled loudly, making me want to punch her in the boob. “Abram was a tagged animal, a light in the dark to ensure you’d come to us.” She looked down at her nails, like what she was telling me wouldn’t bring rage boiling to the surface. “Well, to me, I suppose. I’m the last of my family, as it turns out. At least,” she said wistfully, “I am for now.”

  My body tensed. “Call my boyfriend an animal one more time, and no amount of convincing will stop me from twisting more than your arm.”

  “He’s not your boyfriend, though. Is he?” Stacey asked. She dropped her cigarette to the concrete and crushed it with her shoe. “Not anymore. Sure. The Abram you knew and loved is in there somewhere, awake and rattling around. You made sure of that. But he’s not in the driver’s seat, and the thing calling the shots is an animal, Charisse. If you’re going to have any chance at stopping what’s to come, you’d be best served to remember that.”

  “Chance?” Huntsman asked, glaring at her. “Why would a woman who could see everything about the future need to rely on chance? Why would such a woman even believe in chance?”

  “Such a woman?” Stacey asked, grinning coyly. “You’re a tease, aren’t you?”

  “I assure you, ma’am, I’m no such thing,” Huntsman said. “If I took it in my head to want you in a physical way, you would not question my desires.”

  Stacey cut her gaze back to me. “How do you get anything done at all with this one walking around?”

  “Just answer the question,” I said curtly. The entire time I was waiting for her to start speaking, I tried to figure out what she would say.

  “The question is flawed,” Stacey said smartly. “It implies that I know everything about the future. Not only is that untrue, it’s also impossible. The future is a mosaic. It’s a collage of possibilities. One thing happens, and it changes a thousand others. And that happens a hundred times an hour. I don’t see all of it, because even a day looking at a big picture like that would be enough to drive anyone insane. The Tellers, my family, taught me to train myself on specific things. Some of us looked at regions. Some of us looked at events. I was raised to look at individuals.”

  My stomach churned. “Individuals?” I knew what she was saying, though.

  “Well, one select group of individuals,” she answered.

  “You’ve been watching me,” I said flatly, knowing exactly what she was hinting at. “For your entire life.”

  “You… Oh, and your friends,” Stacey confirmed with a slight nod. “All the people who have interacted, are interacting, or will interact with you in your entire life. I grew up with you guys even though you never saw me, watching you like a television series that ran through my head. You’re like the cast of Friends to me. Which, I guess, is why I’m fangirling a bit, which is unprofessional. It’s also why I was so stoked to see that I was going to get to join you. It’s a dream come true for me,” Stacey went on, gushing. “It’s like I’m going to be part of the team, doing my part to help all of you reach your goals. Even if it is your last mission.”

  I was going along with her, for most of her conversation. I was used to it, honestly. I’d been a model. Not to sound cocky or anything, but there were always people who recognized me from one of my campaigns and wanted to gab about things. It was par for the course for my life. That last part, though, it stopped me in my tracks and caused my mind to come to a screeching halt while I processed it.

  “Last mission?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, not for all of you,” she amended with a placating gesture of her hands. “Don’t worry,” Stacey said, smiling and bringing me out of my stupor. “The rest of you are going to continue on, doing everything you’ve already been doing for the past few years. It’s just your last mission as the group you are now. One of you won’t be there for the next one. That’s all. Before this is over, one of you has to die.” Stacey shrugged. “That’s just the way it has to go.”

  Chapter 16

  Ramsey paced around the unwelcome woman as she sat at our kitchen table. She sipped on a hot tea with lemon and acted as if she hadn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell in the history of bombshells at my feet just minutes ago outside that coffee shop. It was like she didn’t even care that she’d just told me that someone in my circle was going to die during this next crazy mission we were on.

  “I don’t see why you felt the need to bring me here,” Stacey said, setting down the mug that I’d used every day for the past year. It was chipped on one side; I had dropped it last week while trying to carry too many mugs from the dishwasher to the cabinet, and I remember crying because it felt like my entire life was falling apart with that mug. “I mean, I knew you were going to do it, but I still don’t see the need to bring me to this craphole.”

  Her fingers danced along the edge of the mug. She was excited to be here, to be a part of our circle. Just like she’d said before. She was a fan.

  That’s when it first occurred to me. Stacey must live a lonely life. She was always on the outside, looking in. Watching our life, and never being able to participate or interact. It was almost enough for me to feel bad for her. Almost.

  “The need, ma’am,” Ramsey started, interrupting my thoughts, “is that you just threatened us, and now we must determine the correct level of the threat we face from you.”

  He didn’t move a muscle as he stared at the interloper in my apartment. Instead, he watched every flinch Stacey made, and every minute movement of her body with a critical eye.

  “You’re always so dramatic, Ramsey,” Stacey tittered, swirling her finger around the lip of the mug, this time in a flirtatious way. “I di
dn’t threaten you any more than the weatherman forecasting an early frost threatens the crops the weather will affect. Haven’t you ever heard of not shooting the messenger? Or maybe, in this case, it would be kidnapping the messenger. Although, I came willingly, so it wasn’t really kidnapping.”

  “Of course I’ve thought about not shooting the messenger. Unless they deserve it.” Ramsey pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and removed his glasses from their perch on his nose to clean them. It was typical Ramsey...a move made to look like he was completely unaffected, when in reality he was on high alert just waiting for the room to explode in chaos so he could act. “I’m just not quite sure that you’re the messenger, or innocent for that matter. For all I know—for all any of us know—you might be the gunsman. After all, you and your people did infect our friend with God knows what.”

  I looked at Huntsman, surprised at the sheer volume of what he’d just said. Usually, he kept it light, using barely enough words to get his point across. He really must have a problem with the girl sitting at our table.

  “He hasn’t been infected with anything,” Stacey said, rolling her eyes at Ramsey. Her thumb rubbed down the hand of the mug, still flirting with Huntsman and unashamed to be doing it in front of us. “Again, you’re being dramatic. Like I told Charisse and that extra-special hunk of man meat over there, what was put on Abram was a tag, a brand. It was something that was meant to ensure this moment happened, that I could and would be found by you when I needed it to happen. That I would be brought here. To you.”

  She batted her eyes, and I fought the urge to gag.

  At this, Huntsman leaned forward on the kitchen counter, gripping the ledge so hard I thought the formica might split under his grip. Stacey stared at his hands with wide eyes, and I could see the way her mind was turning with his movements. There was something there, besides the obvious attraction she had to him. Huntsman didn’t say anything, but I knew that if this woman did anything to make him cross, he’d make her regret it without even breaking a sweat. He’d probably enjoy it, too.

  I wonder if she knew as much, given she seemed to know everything.

  While I watched her face, I realized that she did. I knew the look on her face. I’d worn it myself with Abram multiple times. Excitement and trepidation all rolled into one.

  I took my opening. It was an opportunity to hold my own with the woman while Huntsman continued to act with controlled restraint. If I wasn’t sure that she knew what was coming, I might approach it with unbridled glee, but there was a growing part of me that thought she was ready for what was coming next.

  “Why, exactly, did you want to be brought here?” I asked, arching my eyebrows at the woman. “You just said you didn’t see why I felt the need to bring you, and yet you’ve been planning on it for who knows how long.”

  “Because that’s what happens in the version of events that we need to happen.” She set down the mug, and I realized that I hadn’t even seen her pick it up again. “In every version of the future where you have a chance of winning the storm that’s coming our way, I come here. In the futures where I don’t come here, you guys don’t fare so well, and more than one of you get killed. Which means the world doesn’t fare so well, either. Like Armageddon level destruction heads our way. So, while I don’t know what possessed you to do so, you bringing me here is kind of important.”

  Stacey waved her hand in the air, giving off a sense of nonchalance that none of the rest of us were feeling.

  “So, what you’re saying,” I said before pausing. Really, I was afraid to say what I was thinking. It was ridiculous, but I knew it was the truth. “Is that you being here is the special sauce that makes us surviving this possible?” I blinked hard, remembering what she’d said earlier. “Well, some of us anyway.”

  I took a deep breath and fought past the knot that had risen up in my throat. It hurt, knowing that one of us was going to die.

  “You’re the one who said it. Not me,” she said. “And I don’t know if that’s exactly right, either. Maybe me being here just sets something else in motion that needs to happen. I don’t write the future, you know.”

  After replacing his glasses on his face, Ramsey stepped in front of her, arms crossed, facing me where I stood on the other side of the table. “First of all, she’s lying to us,” he said defiantly. He turned his body slightly to stick one of his arms to indicate Stacey, then crossed his arms again and leaned against the counter. “Probably about everything, but certainly about the eye stamp on Abram’s body. It’s brimming with magic, and you wouldn’t get that from a tag simply meant to ensure something happens.”

  A snort from our guest drew my attention away from him. “As far as you know, you wouldn’t get that from a tag,” Stacey said. The feet of her chair screeched against the table as she stood. “I have magic you’ve never seen before. Magic you wouldn’t and couldn’t even begin to understand.”

  “Securitos,” I said, simply. The word, pulling at power from deep inside of me, pulled Stacey back into her chair, securing her and planting her hands flat against the table.

  Normally, I didn’t need to actually say the word to cast the spell. I just didn’t want to test anything or give her the chance to escape. I didn’t know how the power of a Teller worked, and I wasn’t about to test it out. Not when we needed her to answer us.

  “That wasn’t necessary, either,” Stacey said, looking up at me. But instead of looking angry or offended, her expression remained unaffected. “I’m not a danger to anyone here. I told you, I grew up with you guys. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  “Stop saying that,” I commanded with a bite to my tone that I hadn’t meant to be there. “It’s weird. Besides, if you want to prove you’re not a danger to any of us, it would be helpful if you started by telling us the truth. The whole truth. What are you really doing here? And what do you want?”

  “I’m here to help you get through this,” she answered simply. She took her time as we stared at her collectively. “I’m here to help you stop The Brothers.”

  She’d literally just said the one thing that would cause me to pause. The one thing that might get Ramsey off her case for the moment, and that might cause Huntsman to give her a little bit of breathing room from his threats.

  I tapped Ramsey’s shoulder, and he stepped aside. I appreciated that he was trying to provide some kind of barrier of protection between Stacey and me, but I could handle myself. Or I should be able to, anyway.

  “The Brothers?” I asked tentatively.

  My heart jumped a little at the thought of it. After all this time, I still didn’t know much about them. Other than the fact that they seemed to be all-powerful beings who wanted me dead, the duo was basically a big question mark for me.

  But, as it turned out, that might not be true for Stacey.

  I ran my manicured fingernails across my bottom lip as I considered the implications. If she were telling the truth about things—and that was a big if—then she might know something about The Brothers. She might know a way to take them out. She might even know how all of this ends.

  But, if she did, was there really any way I could trust her?

  “You can,” she said, glaring at me. “You can trust me.”

  It was as though she could read my mind, as though she knew exactly what my thoughts had been. Maybe she had. Maybe she knew everything that was going to happen, and she was just playing us all like reruns of America’s Next Top Model.

  “I’ve been watching you guys my entire life,” she repeated, “and maybe that is weird—”

  “It is,” I confirmed with a nod and a slightly barbaric grinding of my teeth.

  “but it also means I consider you my friends. Soon enough, if things go the way they’re supposed to, I’ll consider you my family, and you’ll do the same for me.” She was convinced that what she was saying was the truth, clearly.

  Stacey shook her head. It was the only part of her body that could move right now under my spell. Co
nsidering that, maybe she really couldn’t predict everything that would happen.

  “I know we’re not there yet...the you trusting me part,” she went on. “But we’re in a precarious position, one that you don’t understand. We’re standing on the edge of something horrible, and if we don’t save Huntsman, it means we won’t save the world.”

  Huntsman stepped around the counter and toward the woman. “Explain yourself,” he demanded, all that controlled reserve gone now from his posture. “What are you talking about?”

  “I know you’re big on the ‘self-sacrifice’ train, Huntsy,” Stacey said, eliciting a grimace from Huntsman. “I know you’d give yourself freely and allow yourself to suffer for the rest of eternity stuck in a lamp before you let anything happen to anyone in this room, but that’s not a possibility, I’m afraid. At the end of this, you’ll be needed just like the rest of us. The Brothers can’t be defeated and the world can’t be saved if you’re not here to help save it, to help do what must be done. I’ve seen too many variants of the upcoming war and the lives that can be lost. I told you. The only ones where we stand a chance have you in that room with Abram today. They have you here in this room. They have you. You’re one of the only constants in a storm full of variables. Because of that, you can’t give up. You can’t let the hunger growing in your soul win and deprive you of your uniqueness.”

  Huntsman scoffed with what I knew was false bravado. “Shows what you know. I would never give up.”

  “But you would,” I said quietly, realizing just what was at stake here. “For me, for the people you care about, you’d give up your life. You know she’s right.”

  “There’s nothing dishonorable about giving your life for the right cause,” Huntsman answered quickly, as though it were something he had been training to say for decades.

  “Of course there isn’t,” I said. I sat in the chair across from Stacey and sank my head into my hands, the baby pink tips of my painted fingernails pushing into my hairline. “But, when the world is at stake, there’s really only one cause that matters. I can’t allow you to give up your life if your life is what saves humanity. It just wouldn’t be right, regardless of how noble it might feel at the time.”