Bitten (The Graced Series Book 2)

by Amanda Pillar

  Pulling out the only chair, Fin sat down and then dug into his food, sipping on the ale as he did so. Byrne’s food wasn’t going to go cold while he was exercising — show off — but his was.

  A knock on the door heralded the arrival of the innkeeper and buckets of steaming water. He dumped the bucket’s contents into the hipbath, then disappeared down the stairs. Three trips later, Fin was polishing off his food and the bath was full.

  Byrne stood up, chest glistening with sweat, and dipped his finger in the water. “Feels okay.”

  Fin nodded, and hauled himself out of the chair. He picked up the swaddled baby, took her over to the bath and began to unwrap the material from around her. The movement woke her and she blinked open sleepy Green eyes. As her little body was exposed to the cold air, she kicked her legs in protest and screamed.

  Wincing, Byrne put his fingers in his ears. “She certainly has a set of lungs on her.”

  Fin quickly put her in the water, which made her scrunch her face in protest and kick her legs and wave her arms even more vigorously. Her crying didn’t stop, either. Cradling her head, Fin quickly grabbed a cloth and soap and began washing her down. He made quick work of it and lifted the baby out, passing her to Byrne, who had a waiting towel. The were gently dried Rena, while Fin got a new diaper ready.

  Together, they soon had her re-swaddled and back into the basket. Whimpering, but content now that she was no longer so exposed, she settled fast.

  “Bath time for me,” Fin said. “At least she didn’t pee in the water.”

  Byrne nodded. “I’ll go out to the brook. Back soon.”

  Then Fin was alone — properly alone — with Rena. Crouching down, he ran a gentle hand over her bald head. “I had a daughter once,” he told her. Rena made a gurgling noise.

  Stripping off his shirt, he examined his yellowing bruises and the thin line of scabs that ran up his arms. Byrne had taken out the stitches a few days ago, and the wounds were healing nicely.

  Shucking his pants, he stepped into the bath. There wasn’t really room for him to sit, so he squatted, rubbing soap over his chest.

  “My daughter’s name was Calenda,” he said to the murmuring infant. “Her mother died giving birth to her.” His voice lowered as rinsed the soap off. “I killed them both.”

  Rena blew a bubble.

  “Don’t try and be nice,” he said to the baby. “If I hadn’t gotten Karly pregnant, then she would never have died bringing our little girl into the world.” And his Callie wouldn’t have died, either.

  He never even got to see her take a breath.

  She’d been so small and fragile, her tiny body cold in his hands. The midwife and the sawbones had tried to take her from him, begged him to leave the room, so they could prepare both Karly and Callie’s bodies, but Fin couldn’t leave them. He’d sat in that room, with its coppery stench of blood and pungent scent of fear, his baby in his arms, her Brown eyes shut to the world forever. It was only when Marcia had found him that the stupor had passed.

  Fin had buried the two of them, along with his heart, and then left town. He hadn’t seen his sisters or family since. He couldn’t look them in the eyes, knowing he’d see pity. And worse, acceptance. Fin didn’t deserve that.

  Finished in the bath, he stepped out and dried himself off. He was buttoning up his shirt when Byrne strode back in, skin goose-pimpled, but looking clean and fresh. The bear opened one of their bags and pulled out a shirt. “You should go and check on Hannah.”

  “You didn’t?” Fin asked.

  “I was half naked.”

  Fin eyed the man’s physique with a slightly jealous eye. Byrne had way too many muscles for just one person. It wasn’t fair. “I’m sure she wouldn’t have minded.”

  “Don’t be an ass.”

  “You’re the prude.”

  “Just shut up and go and check on her. Wear a coat, it’s cold.”

  “She’s a vampire, I’m sure she’s fine.” Truth was, he didn’t trust himself if he was alone with her. And he didn’t trust her, either.

  “Just do it. I’ll go milk the stupid goat and feed Rena.”

  “Why don’t you check on Hannah then, too?”

  “Share the duties, that’s the deal. Go.”

  “Fine.”

  If Fin protested too much, Byrne would detect that he had ‘issues’ with the vampire. So he pulled a woolen jumper on and then a coat, and headed out the door.

  He told himself that it wasn’t a big deal. He was an adult. Hannah was an adult. There was no reason to be worried about approaching the woman at night, with no one else around.

  Stepping outside, the frigid air was like a slap in the face. One Fin sorely needed. Muttering to himself, he turned right at the inn, then headed down the dirt track that led into and out of the hamlet. Hannah was camped a five minute walk from the inn, far enough away that no one could stumble on her.

  In the moonlight, he could see reasonably well, and recognized the cart trail that headed east after about four hundred yards. Turning right again, he set off along it, rubbing his hands together for warmth. Oak trees lined the sides of the track, and he could hear critters scampering in the undergrowth. Even though it was spring, it was still a bit cold for a human.

  The top on the wagon was up, and Fin started whistling as he approached, so Hannah would know it was him. After seeing her rip a guy’s heart from his chest, he wasn’t going to take any chances.

  “Fin?”

  “Just checking to see if you’re okay,” he said, stopping at the rear of the cart.

  Hannah pushed aside the canvas with a stick. “It’s cold, you shouldn’t be outside.”

  “It’s fine,” Fin said, moving from foot to foot.

  “You’re human.”

  Fin rolled his eyes. “I am aware of this fact.”

  “Humans get cold.”

  “You’re observant.”

  She jabbed a long, gloved finger at him. “So you’re cold.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Get in the wagon.” Hannah pushed the canvas open further.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Hannah leaned forward. “Get in the wagon.”

  “It’s okay. I just came back to check on you. You seem fine. I’ll go now.” Fin quickly took a step back. Then two.

  But Hannah was fast. Quicker than he could see, she was dragging him inside the wagon.

  “My ribs!”

  This was a bad idea.

  A very bad idea.

  Chapter 49

  Pinton City

  “That was my mother!”

  He shouldn’t be in the king’s bedroom at this time of the day, but so be it. Shoving the snuff box into his jacket pocket, he sidled to the doorway. He had a reason to be here, if anyone found him, but he didn’t want to take too many chances, especially since the king would be in to eat his lunch at any moment. Despite that, he couldn’t stop himself from stopping to listen in on the conversation in the adjacent room. Eavesdropping was such poor behavior, but sometimes lowering one’s standards was important. He just hoped neither vampire heard him standing there. Things could get awkward if they did.

  “I’m sorry, Misty,” the king said in a soothing voice. “I know it was your mother, and the City Guard is doing all it can...”

  He could picture the scene: King Johan resplendent in black silk, his hair in a queue. Misty opposite him, dressed in tacky white, her hair over her shoulders. She’d no doubt be playing with those stupid blonde curls, maybe stomping a foot in annoyance on the priceless red and black woven carpet.

  That bloody bitch had been throwing a tantrum ever since her mother’s body had been found. You’d think that she would have finally realized what a favor he’d done for her — for the kingdom. She no longer had to be embarrassed about her mother’s antics, about her inadequacy as a peer of the realm. But no. It was still ‘poor me, my mom is dead.’
>
  She was as useless as her mother.

  “The murderer is still out there. It’s not good enough, and you need to make it known that this is unacceptable.”

  “Misty—”

  “The guards are under-resourced to deal with this! I want the bloody fiend to know that we are looking for him, and that when he’s found, there will be no mercy.”

  No mercy?

  That was a tad overdramatic. But he did like to hear that the City Guard was ill-equipped to deal with finding him.

  “Look, I’ll arrange for a meeting with the night captain.” King Johan was placating her. Good. “We’ll work out a plan of action. Of course, this murder cannot be allowed to go unpunished.”

  He drew back. Cannot be allowed to go unpunished?

  Did the king not understand what he was doing? How important his work was?

  Did Johan not see his value?

  The snuff box was heavy in his jacket pocket; he patted it gently. Maybe the king needed a more emphatic lesson in humility.

  Chapter 50

  Whiteoak Hamlet

  Fin lay on his back in the cart bed, his coat open and jumper askew, revealing the taut muscles of his stomach above the waistband of his trousers.

  “Hmph.”

  “Are you okay?” Hannah asked. Perhaps he’d been hurt by being dragged into the cart. She patted him down, checking for injuries. She tried not to think about what her hands were touching as she worked her way over his arms and then his torso and chest. Ignored how firm the planes of his body were...

  “I’m fine,” Fin said, grabbing her hands, holding them away from him. His voice was slightly pained.

  “But you hmphed.” Hannah let him keep hold of her hands, embarrassingly pleased to have contact with another person.

  With Fin.

  “You dragged me into the back of a cart. It was a hmph of surprise.” Fin let go of her hands and then propped himself up on his elbows with a wince. This close she could make out flecks of Green in his Hazel eyes, even in the dim light of the covered cart. Having a first generation vampire as a mother did have some benefits. But, how much could Fin see of her?

  “You were cold,” Hannah said, a little defensive. She didn’t want to let Fin get sick. After he’d spent the past two weeks bemoaning how easy it was for humans to get hurt, she hadn’t wanted to take the risk. And maybe she’d wanted a little company. She’d grown used to having Rena, Fin and Byrne around. She didn’t like being left alone in the cart, but she hadn’t been comfortable asking them to stay with her. Fin needed a bed, and Rena needed warmth. Strange how she hadn’t really cared about being alone while she lived on the Old Mother, but a couple of weeks with her new friends, and she was leery about solitude.

  You’re a vampire. You can protect yourself, you don’t need people to look after you.

  But I don’t want to be looked after. I just don’t want to be alone.

  How sad is that?

  “I should probably get back...” Fin sat up, scooting his butt backward, putting space between them. He felt around the back of the cart, as if searching for something — he must be almost blind in the darkness.

  She pulled her blanket over her shoulders, wrapping it around her. “There’s a lantern behind you.”

  “I don’t need a lantern, I’ll be fine when I climb out. I’ll be able to see by the moonlight.” His words were fast and clipped.

  Frowning, Hannah took hold of her ‘touching’ stick to scoop up the lamp; she might be able to get it going for him. How she’d manage to do it without touching the components, she wasn’t sure, but it’d work out. She had almost hooked the handle, when his surprisingly warm body made contact with hers. Hannah dropped the stick in surprise, and Fin flung his hands out for balance. His palms made contact with her upper torso and stayed there.

  They were on her breasts.

  He didn’t move.

  Heat burned its way up from their point of contact, her breasts growing heavy and tight. The warmth spread to her neck and cheeks, and she was thankful she hadn’t got the lamp going, or Fin would see her full-body blush.

  Fin, however, was frozen with his arms outstretched. The contact was making her body tingle, awkwardness fading into something more pleasurable. She was grateful Byrne wasn’t here, or he’d know within seconds she was lusting after Fin. No one had a sense of smell like a bear.

  “Hannah, what am I touching?” Fin’s voice was more like a squeak than the deep baritone she was used to.

  He had to know what he was touching, and she probably should have moved his hands away by now, but she didn’t want to. It felt good, even if he was just sitting there like a rock. It was still much better than what it had been like when she’d dated Evan.

  “You’re touching my breasts.”

  “Breasts?” He squeezed gently and yelped. Throwing himself back, he landed with a clatter on the lantern and some bags.

  The loss of warmth was immediate. He was rubbing his hands together, shaking them, and Hannah wasn’t sure what he was trying to do. Rub away the feel of her?

  “It can’t have been that bad,” she snapped. Shutting her jaw with a click, she berated herself; she shouldn’t have said anything. He fell. He was trying to steady himself. He hadn’t deliberately set out to grope her. Just because she happened to like it, didn’t mean that was his intention. Which it clearly wasn’t, from his hand wringing and scrunched-up face. How did he manage to be so handsome even when he looked like that; mouth puckered, forehead creased in a frown, nose pinched?

  Fin paid no attention to her snarky comment, though. “I’m sorry, Hannah.”

  “Why?” Surely he’d touched lots of breasts before without having a panic attack.

  He dropped his hands, staring at them in the dark. “I touched your boobs.”

  “Boobs?”

  “Breasts.”

  “Right.” Hannah wasn’t too sure what was wrong, but Fin was upset. Maybe he hadn’t liked touching her?

  “So I’m sorry.”

  Hannah shrugged. “I’m not.”

  His eyes searched for her in the darkness. “What?”

  “I said I’m not sorry.” She smiled ruefully to herself, knowing Fin couldn’t see it. “Most action I’ve had in a long time.”

  Fin spluttered. “Action?”

  “I mean, I know you got laid only a couple of weeks ago, but it’s been a bit longer for me.” Try one hundred and fifty years longer. Not that she was going to admit that to him.

  “Laid?”

  “Yes, had sex.” Was his brain not be functioning properly? Perhaps he was still feeling guilty about touching her? Shame.

  “Sex.”

  There he went with the one word answers again.

  Hannah reached out for him, but didn’t quite make contact. “Are you okay?”

  Fin shoved a hand through his messy blond hair. “You shouldn’t say those words.”

  “What words?”

  “Sex. Laid. Action.”

  Hannah folded her arms across her chest. “Why not? You and Byrne do.”

  “Because...” His voice trailed off and he tugged at the collar of his jumper uncomfortably.

  “I’m listening.” If she’d been standing, she would have been tapping her foot impatiently. As it was, all she could do was glare at Fin.

  “You just can’t.”

  “That is not a reason.”

  Then he mumbled, “It gives people ideas.”

  “What ideas?”

  “Bad ones.”

  Hannah threw her arms up. “Fin, you make no sense!”

  “I had better get moving.”

  But he just sat there, rubbing the palms of his hands on his thighs. And then it dawned on Hannah: maybe his bad thoughts were about her.

  Be bold, she told herself.

  But I’m scared.

  What if Fin rejected her again? The first time, she’d only managed to move pa
st her embarrassment because he hadn’t been expecting it, and they’d been in a dungeon. Kissing her back would have been a terrible idea on his part. But some part of her had grown attached to the fantasy that she, Fin, Rena and Byrne would continue traveling together as a family. That they wouldn’t separate when she found her mother. That she and Fin would be Rena’s parents and Byrne the doting uncle. Not that she’d ever told Fin and Byrne that.

  She liked Fin.

  Dropping the blanket by her side, she leaned forward and gently placed her hands on either side of Fin’s face.

  “Hannah?”

  Then she was pressing her lips to his. They were warm and soft, and his beard was slightly tickly against her face. Hannah thought he was going to push her away again, and sadness began to coil through her, and she pulled back. As their lips parted, Fin groaned.

  Hands coming up to her shoulders, he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her back. Her blood instantly grew hot, burning through her, and warmth coiled low within her belly. Her lips parted, and his tongue swept inside, teasing her with quick, gentle flicks. He tasted of mint and potato, and it was the strangest and most erotic thing she’d ever savored.

  Winding her arms around his neck, Hannah pressed forward, her chest against his. A hiss of pleasure left her, the press of his body delicious, the hardness of his muscles against her almost indescribable, so starved was her body of another’s contact. But it was Fin, and she doubted anyone else would feel so wonderful. Hard where she was soft, and so bloody warm.

  Fin pulled away with a moan, his heartbeat pounding loud in her ears. She was surprised that hers was almost as fast. Fin rested his forehead against hers, and his breath came in short pants, mingling with her exhalations.

  “This is a really bad idea, Hannah.”

  Hannah ran a palm down his back, her fingers sensitive as they swept over his shoulder blades and down toward his butt. “It doesn’t feel like a bad idea.”

  In fact, it felt rather amazing.

  “That is why it’s a really bad idea.”

  Since when was Fin the voice of reason?

  “It’s not like we have to get married, Fin. We’re adults.”