Bitten (The Graced Series Book 2)

by Amanda Pillar

  Her argumentative mind had a point, Hannah conceded. She had no idea if Fin would even want to be with her physically. He’d pushed her away when she’d kissed him in the cells. Maybe it was because the timing had been terrible — it had been — but maybe it was because he didn’t think of Hannah like that. She was tall and gangly and had strange eyes. Sure, she knew Evan had found her pretty, but when you wanted to sleep with someone, you generally needed to find them attractive.

  A voice spoke next to her ear, soft and breathy. “Hannah, why are you staring at me?”

  Hannah jolted and was seized with concern that she’d squeezed Rena, accidentally hurting the baby. But the child slept soundly in her swaddling, her little snub nose slightly red in the cool air. Hannah rubbed it gently with her gloved finger.

  Fin had come up in the back of the wagon to sit next to her. Warmth radiated from him, and she found herself wanting to just lean against him. Feel some of his heat, without absorbing anything else.

  “I was thinking, I wasn’t staring at you,” Hannah replied automatically. How did he always know?

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you were...” His breath smelled like mint. Where did he get mint leaves?

  “Give it a rest.”

  “What were you thinking about? You were frowning, and it was kinda scary. That’s why I moved out of your line of sight.” He grinned then, and it was charming. How he’d managed not to lose a tooth in the recent beatings, she didn’t know. Just lucky, she guessed.

  “I do not look scary when I frown.” This close, the bruise she’d given him on his cheek looked awful.

  Gingerly, she reached out and touched the discoloration that showed through the blond hair on his jaw. Hissing, Fin jerked his head back.

  “Sorry,” Hannah said.

  “You weren’t thinking about that were you?” Fin rubbed a hand over his other cheek awkwardly.

  Hannah resettled Rena, resting the baby against her chest. Maybe that would keep her little nose warm. “Thinking about what?”

  “The cells.”

  “Uhh—”

  “Don’t feel bad for hitting me. I did touch you to wake you up. You were just quicker than I thought.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?”

  “I won’t feel bad then.”

  Byrne gave a short, sharp laugh; even though they spoke quietly, he could still hear them. “I don’t think it was bothering her that much,” he rumbled.

  “Then what else...oh.” Fin looked down at his feet, actually stared at them quite intently.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It can’t be nothing. You never have nothing to say,” Hannah said.

  “I said nothing.”

  “Hannah’s right. You always have some bullshit to blather about,” Byrne said from the driver’s seat.

  “I do not.”

  “Do too.”

  “So what was it?” Hannah asked.

  “I can’t remember now,” Fin said, still looking at his feet. Maybe he needed to buy a new pair of boots? “All your accusations made me forget.”

  Chapter 47

  Pinton City

  Alice rubbed her eyes. Time to get back on track. The killer hadn’t struck for five days now, and she worried that meant another body would be discovered soon. After all, the killer had barely waited between the first victim and the second. She’d spent the time trying to find a clue — any clue. Maybe there was something about the bodies of the victims that she’d missed, something that could tell her more about the killer.

  Looking down at the notes on each of the murder victims, she began flicking through the pages. Comparing things like age, height, weight, position of body when found. State of body, number of wounds. Some of the guards had argued that the countess had been killed by a different individual, because she had more stab wounds than the others, but Alice wasn’t so sure. The trauma induced by each staking had been similar, implying to her that the killer had used the same amount of force.

  Alice also had the theory that the murderer had delivered the ‘death blow’ first — the heart strike — otherwise, the countess would have fought back. That would have left the killer with a lot of physical damage; even decadent aristos knew how to hurt people, if push came to shove. If the murderer was a vampire — and she had a hunch they weren’t — then they would have recovered quickly from the attack. But if they were human, then their wounds would have been apparent and that could have raised suspicions, depending on their standing within society. To avoid that, they would have had to kill or incapacitate the countess first, then deliver the other blows.

  The woman’s other wounds had bled — there was visible clotting — but the allergic reaction at these sites had been less severe when compared to the one at the heart. Most vampires could heal from a stake wound to the torso, unless the heart was compromised. Alice had read of some rare cases in medical journals where death had been caused through exposure of any internal organ to wood, but they were definitely not the standard.

  So like the other victims, the countess had died from a stake to the heart, but she’d also been subject to three other wounds after the heart had been targeted. Why?

  And then there was the dust found on two of the victims. Under magnification, it looked like plant cells. She needed to get her hands on some more textbooks, to identify the exact cell type. It was very possible the powder was snuff. But could the dust have been from contamination of some kind — maybe the transport method?

  “Knock knock,” a voice said, interrupting her thoughts.

  Looking up, Alice smiled at Tal, who stood in the doorway. She was wearing a bright yellow skirt, and a white shirt with a flow of delicate ruffles that hid the buttons at the front of the garment. Over the shirt, she wore a gray jacket, which matched her eyes. Tal gave her a large smile in return; after all the drama of the last few days, Alice hadn’t expected that kind of reaction. She knew that Tal had been spending quite a bit of time with the viscountess — Tal had blown her off from their usual third-day dinner date — and Alice had figured it had to be tough for Tal, helping someone through the grieving process.

  After all, she had been through it herself.

  “You’re making these visits rather regularly nowadays,” she said. Tal would occasionally come visit Alice at work, but usually to collect her for dinner, or a catch up and a coffee or tea. Not just for a chat.

  Her friend stepped further into the room, then held up a paper bag. “I come bearing samples.”

  “Samples?”

  “Semen samples,” Tal said, depositing the bag next to Alice’s notes with a flourish.

  “You managed to get all three?” Alice moved her notes aside, keeping them carefully piled in chronological order. Once she knew more about the crimes, she might find a different system for them, but for now, this would have to do. Alice then ensured the piles of paperwork were all evenly stacked. She could feel Tal watching her, but her friend didn’t say anything.

  Tal shrugged, tapping her fingers absentmindedly on the stone bench as Alice stood on tiptoes to take a microscope off a shelf. “I could only get two of the three; human and vampire. I thought you might be able to ask your friend, Elle, if her fiancé or whatever he is, would agree to provide a were sample.”

  Alice snorted. “I can just imagine how that conversation would go. I like not having a black eye.”

  She didn’t know how Elle would really react, but Alice couldn’t picture approaching the city guard with that request and not insulting her or her fiancé.

  Opening the bag, Alice saw two glass jars sitting side by side. One had ‘human’ scrawled on a label on the cap, the other had ‘vampire.’ The writing wasn’t Tal’s. “How’d you manage to get these, anyway? And how old are they?”

  Tal stole Alice’s seat, her skirts swooshing around her gently as she did so. “I was told they were done this morning; it’s what Profess
or Monteray recommended.”

  “Professor Monteray?”

  “He’s the new medical professor at the university, apparently transferred over from Varsh, thick accent,” Tal said.

  That’s right, Alice, recalled, he was new to the university. Professor Retman had been in charge of the medical school when she’d attended, but that was a few years ago now. She should probably maintain her ties with the university, but she worked with the dead, not with live patients, so didn’t need to know about the latest advances in surgery.

  “His focus is on surgical procedures, I think, and doesn’t have much time for clinical analysis,” Tal went on. “That’s what one of his students told me, anyway. When I spoke to him, he spent a lot of time talking about how he is trying to ensure that patients don’t die during the operating procedure. I didn’t dare enquire as to what he was operating on them for.

  “I asked him if he would be able to obtain some samples for me, for an experiment you were running. He’d heard of you, and so was willing to get me what you needed, provided you let him know if there were any worthwhile results.”

  “How’d he get the vampire sample? I presume a student?” Alice asked, although, there couldn’t be too many vampire medical students. Aside from their wood allergy, vampires didn’t tend to get sick, and so didn’t really enroll in medicine as a career. That didn’t mean it didn’t happen, just that it was rare.

  “He doesn’t have any vampire students,” Tal answered. “His research assistant provided the human sample, and well, the vampire sample is his.”

  The professor was a vampire? Huh. She hadn’t realized that. With the microscope set up, Alice opened a drawer, and selected two glass pipettes and four slides. The slides were cold, she hoped that didn’t matter. She opened the jar labeled ‘vampire’, used the pipette to draw out a sample, then dripped three drops of the semen onto the glass slide and diluted it with distilled water.

  Alice paused as she picked up the glass slide, but then quickly placed it under the microscope. She focused the lens, and squinted down the eyepiece, concentrating. The shape of this vampire sperm was different to the specimen she’d examined from the last autopsy. Well, all three autopsies; the samples had been the same from all the victims. But that had just meant that it was someone from the same species — potentially — committing the crimes, not necessarily the same person.

  This was different.

  The head of each sperm cell on the slide was larger, and ended in a pointed tip, compared to the oval shape of the other sample she’d drawn. The mid connecting piece was thicker, and the tail longer — definitely different to the sperm she had recorded from the murder victims. She reached for a pencil and paper and sketched what she saw down the eyepiece. When she was done, she removed the slide, then repeated the process for the jar with the ‘human’ label. Aunt Zara’s drawing lessons were still useful.

  “So?” Tal asked, when at last Alice lifted her head from the microscope.

  “They are definitely different.” She opened up a file and took out a sheet of paper. “This is a drawing of the sample I got from the murder victims,” she said.

  Tal stared at the picture of the cell. “Okay.”

  “That matches the human sample provided to me by Professor Monteray. This is the vampire sample he gave me.” She handed over the new sketch. Alice tried not to think about the fact that the sample belonged to the head of the medicine school at the university.

  Tal studied it. “All right. So do you still need the were sample?”

  Alice shook her head. “I don’t think so, not when the human sample here matches so closely to the ones from the victims. Normally, I’d need a much larger sample size than this, but we’re pressed for time. Besides, what if the were samples all vary?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like different sperm for wolves, leopards, bears...”

  “Maybe that should be a student’s thesis with the university.”

  “You could suggest it to the professor.”

  “No,” Tal said, sliding off the chair. “But you could.”

  “Hah. But at least we know one thing,” Alice said.

  “Yes?”

  “Unless were cells are identical to human’s, which I seriously doubt, the killer is human.”

  “So now the guards just need to find a human who lives in Pinton, and who happens to have a grudge against vampire aristos.”

  “That won’t be difficult at all,” Alice said with a sigh.

  Chapter 48

  Whiteoak Hamlet

  Byrne and Fin hauled the last of their gear into the room they’d rented at the inn. Well, technically it was Byrne who was doing most of the hauling. He was loaded down with canvas bags, while Fin was puffed just from climbing the stone staircase, and was secretly hoping for a steaming hipbath. To think, a staircase was too much for him. But then, he did have broken ribs.

  Stupid Trsetti.

  Stupid Byrne.

  And maybe, stupid Fin. It might have been a little bit his fault, too. But he’d never admit that to the bloody were.

  The inn wasn’t bad — actually, it was pretty good for a small town; it was clean, tidy and had decent bed linen — but it only had one person behind the bar. Still, it was a quiet night, the air cold and crisp, laced with a strong scent of woodsmoke, so the taproom wasn’t too busy. Maybe he wouldn’t be completely out of luck; a hipbath might be possible.

  “Why did I have to carry all the bags?” Byrne asked, bending to avoid the doorframe as he stepped into their room.

  “Because I have broken ribs?” Fin said. Plus, he was carrying Rena, all swaddled up in a basket. He set her down a few feet away from the hearth on the woven floor rug, and then knelt down with a groan to set the fire. Rena would need the warmth; on other nights, they’d made a special lean-to for her, and had built a campfire. Fin had taken to sleeping with the baby tucked under his arm, but getting her a proper bath and an enclosed room would be better. She was only two weeks old, and had already travelled further than most adults in their entire lives. Not as much as Fin, but then, few people had.

  Most weren’t running away from their past.

  Byrne set their gear down, then crouched next to Rena and rubbed a big hand over her belly. “What are we going to do when Hannah finds her mother?”

  Fin encouraged the kindling into flame, then sat back. He dusted off his hands before poking at the growing flames. “What do you mean?”

  Byrne’s face was all hard lines, but his eyes were concerned as he looked at the baby. Hannah had decided to stay in the wagon, still worried about touching anything, but she had seen the sense in Rena staying the night inside with Fin and Byrne.

  “Hannah and Rena won’t need us anymore.”

  Fin snorted, but he was apprehensive about the same thing. The two of them had become part of their group, and even though it had only been two weeks since they met, he couldn’t picture a time when they wouldn’t all be traveling together. He didn’t want to leave Rena. Or Hannah, but that was more complicated.

  “As if she could do without us,” he said.

  “She has a first generation vampire for a mother,” Byrne said. “She will have all the support she could need.”

  “Yes, but we have mental shields. We can help her with the baby. Only her mother can touch her, you know that.”

  “I don’t think I could handle being around vampires all the time,” Byrne muttered.

  “Hannah might not want to live with her mother. Look what happened when she went to visit.” Fin stood, a hand pressed to his ribs. “I’m going to go down and order a bath for me and Rena. Want one?”

  Byrne shook his head. “There’s a brook out back, I’ll use that.”

  Fin winced. “You’ll freeze your balls off.”

  “Hah! I’m not a weak human.”

  “Whatever.” Shaking his head, Fin opened the wooden door — odd to find one so near a vamp
ire estate — and headed down the stairs. There were only two patrons left in the taproom, and they were huddled near the fire. Both wore long shirts and coats, and had Brown eyes. Locals, Fin guessed. The room smelled of tobacco smoke and onions.

  Heading over to the bar, Fin nodded at the innkeeper.

  “I was wondering if I could get a hipbath? For me and the baby? And a meal?”

  The innkeeper eyed him for a moment, then nodded. He was a bit shorter than Fin, and had ruddy, shiny cheeks. “It’ll cost extra. That were won’t fit in the bath.”

  “No problem.”

  The innkeeper toddled off to put together some food for them; Fin hung around to wait by the bar.

  There didn’t seem to be a barmaid, but that was probably a good thing. He didn’t need a woman fawning over the baby or him. And he didn't want Byrne to have any more reason to be annoyed at him. Plus, Fin didn’t want to get them kicked out of a fourth town in a bit over a month. He could only imagine what Byrne would have to say to that. Or Hannah.

  He grimaced. Thinking of Hannah would not help him win any points with Byrne, either. Not that Byrne would know he was thinking about the vampire, but the were had a way of sensing when Fin was doing something he shouldn’t. And Fin shouldn’t be thinking about Hannah in any way other than as a friend. He shouldn’t be picturing the way her legs looked in her leather pants, or how her breasts stretched her shirt, or how her lips felt against his...

  The innkeeper banged a tray of food down on the counter, the plates and tankards rattling. Fin snapped out of his bad thoughts about Hannah and set off up to the room.

  By the time he arrived, a bronze hipbath had already been set up, although it was empty. Maybe the innkeeper did have a helper after all.

  Byrne had stripped off his shirt, and was doing pushups in the middle of the room. Rena was in the basket in front of him, making sleep noises. Fin stepped around the were and put the tray on the small table next to the window. He eyed the uncooked steaks on one side of the plate, grateful the blood seeping across the dinnerware hadn’t reached his cooked steak and potatoes. He preferred his meat well done.