Bitten (The Graced Series Book 2)

by Amanda Pillar

  “Do you know this human?” Tatiana’s voice was cold and directed at Alice. Her eyes were almost reptilian as they stared down at Byrne’s mate.

  Stepping forward, Byrne placed a hand on Alice’s shoulder. She startled, then gave him a weak smile.

  “I thought this morning that I might have worked out the identity of a serial killer that has been stalking Pinton’s vampires,” Alice said. “But there were still so many things I needed to confirm. It was why I was coming here.”

  “You worked out who the killer was?” Elle asked. She took a step closer to the head and whistled. “King Jo is going to be pissed.”

  “It was all about the snuff,” Alice said.

  “Snuff?” Byrne asked.

  “Killer? You mean you knew this man was after my daughter?” Tatiana’s voice was low, deadly.

  “No. I mean, I thought he might be the killer, but I had no idea he was after Hannah. He’s the king’s lover.”

  Tatiana’s face went blank. “I just killed the King of Pinton’s lover.”

  “This is going to be a nightmare. You really think this is the serial killer?” Elle ran a hand over her face.

  Shuddering, Alice nodded. “But we need to search his rooms. Check for more evidence. I don’t know why he was targeting Hannah. And this is a completely different modus operandi.”

  Tatiana waved the head. “He tried to kill my daughter. He shot her mate in the chest.”

  “Can you prove that?” Elle asked.

  “The rest of his body is up there with the crossbow.” With her free hand, Tatiana pointed at a nearby rooftop. Which was still a good twenty-five yards straight up. How had she gotten here so quickly?

  Then Byrne wondered how much of the body was left in one piece, considering she was carrying his head around like a reticule. Man, what kind of a family had Hannah come from?

  “I could take you there?” Tatiana said.

  Elle looked up. “Uh—”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” Byrne quickly interjected.

  Then the gate banged open and Dante stood there, hauling a stretcher. He paused in the gateway, staring at the scene in front of him. “Why does Hannah’s boyfriend have a crossbow bolt in him?”

  “Long story.” Byrne sighed.

  Dante nodded. “Then whose head is that? Wait. Is that Lance?”

  “Lance?”

  “The king’s lover.”

  “I just don’t understand why he’d do something like this,” Alice said. “He was in a position of power that few could match...”

  Sudden movement caught his eye; Hannah lunging toward her mother. Understanding dawned, and Byrne threw himself forward, to grab her as she stretched her hand out to touch the dead man’s head.

  Tatiana didn’t move, her mouth agape, stunned. Byrne’s hand came down on Hannah’s shoulder seconds after she touched Lance. But it was too late. She collapsed in a heap next to Fin, her limbs twitching on the ground.

  Byrne let go. Now he didn’t know if he’d made matters worse. “Fuck.”

  Tatiana threw the head on the ground, and it hit the cobbles with a horrible wet sound. “You touched her!”

  “I tried to stop her!”

  But that didn’t stop Tatiana from advancing on him. “Now she will have two minds to deal with!”

  Elle’s voice was quiet, but it stopped their argument cold. “No, she won’t.”

  “What?” Tatiana snapped.

  Elle’s face was pinched, as if in pain. “My ability with telepathy is new — it only came on after Dante Chose me — but I can’t read the bear’s mind. So if her ability doesn’t work on people with shields, which I suspect is the case, then his touching her won’t matter.”

  “Thank fuck,” Byrne muttered. He’d figured he’d be fine, but with Tatiana looking at him like that...he was glad it hadn’t just been a theory.

  But Elle’s eyes dropped to the head, then flicked to Alice, Tatiana and Byrne. “But I got a sense of what happened to her when she touched that head. It hurts. It’s like her whole mind is being overridden by someone else’s. Like her personality is temporarily erased. The fact that she has survived that happening to her, over and over again, is fucking amazing. But—”

  Tatiana’s face was white, and Byrne’s fists were clenched. Were they at risk of losing both Hannah and Fin?

  “But what?” Tatiana snapped.

  “But this was completely overpowering. I don’t know if it was because she didn’t put any shields up when she touched him. But at the moment, I don’t get a read of Hannah at all. It’s all just jumbled memories of him.”

  They stood there in silence. Dante holding the stretcher. Byrne with Fin’s blood on his tongue. Tatiana covered in gore. Alice on her knees, checking Fin’s pulse. And Fin, Fin lying there weakly breathing, and fighting the greatest battle he’d ever had to face. The one to stay alive.

  Then Alice broke the silence, her face wan and set. “So she just touched him, and now she has some of his memories?”

  Tatiana shook her head. “She absorbed every memory that he has retained over his entire life. By the time she wakes up, she will know everything there is to know about him.”

  Elle didn’t say it, but by the look on her face, the use of ‘by the time’ should probably have been replaced with ‘if.’

  Chapter 73

  Hannah couldn’t tell where her mind began or ended. She was a sea of rage and bitterness, of delusion and narcissism. And it was overwhelming. How had she managed to lose herself so completely?

  He called himself the Gardener.

  I am the Gardener. I am making the world a better place.

  Floating within her own mind, she caught hold of that thought, to see where it took her.

  *

  Lance couldn’t have that woman touching the corpse of his latest victim. If he’d known that the stupid bitch was in town, he would have waited. Waited until she’d left, or waited until she’d been killed.

  He’d never heard of someone with such talents before.

  While a large part of him was skeptical of her ability, he couldn’t take the chance that the crazy rumor was true, and that she would reveal his secrets. It wouldn’t be a problem, if the guards or the king could see how valuable his work was. But sadly, they didn’t. At least, not yet.

  He’d gone too far, killing that countess. That’s what seemed to have stirred up the hornet’s nest; but she’d been the epitome of what was wrong with their society. She’d been born into her social position, but Lance had had to work his entire life to gain his. Everything he’d done since he turned eighteen had been about rising to a role of power. It was something he deserved, and had been denied through sheer bad luck. Sure, he’d done some things that other humans didn’t like; as if he cared about those pathetic bloodbags. They were nothing to him.

  And it wasn’t like he had anyone to answer to.

  Not anymore.

  Now, all he had to do was eliminate this stupid vampire, and he would be free to carry on his work. Oh, he might have to pause for a while, but he could continue his work unimpeded, once he was Chosen. He just had to ensure that happened.

  He chuckled to himself; he couldn’t believe how easy this had been to orchestrate. A piece of gold — it was funny how low some people’s prices were — and the stable boy had been more than happy to tell the vampire that she had to leave the stable so he could work, not that he normally started mucking the building out for another couple of hours. It hadn’t taken much more prompting to get the boy to suggest the morning was ripe for a walk, and that she should use the rear garden gate.

  Lance wondered why she was staying in the stables, but he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity that offered. He had a collapsible crossbow in his satchel, ready and waiting...

  And then she emerged. He aimed the bow, and pulled the trigger, but the bolt’s flight wasn’t true. Cursing, he slipped another in. This time, he
corrected for the slight breeze. Releasing the trigger, he knew his aim was good, but a man — the vampire’s companion — darted out in front of her, shoving her to the ground.

  “Fuck.” He slipped a third quarrel in place, aimed the crossbow, finger on the trigger.

  Something thumped onto the rooftop behind him. A tingle ran down his spine, and slowly he turned around.

  A vampire stood there, her long red hair blowing in the slight breeze that had ruined his first shot. He knew who she was, his brain screaming that he had to run, that she was far too dangerous — but he couldn’t stop the words that growled from him.

  “Fuck off, I’m busy.”

  The duchess gave a tittering laugh, her violet eyes all kinds of crazy. “I can see that.” She smiled. “But then, I’m about to be pretty busy myself.” That grin broadened, showing her fangs, which were longer and sharper than any he’d ever seen before. Bringing the crossbow up fast, he shot at her, should have hit her, but she moved. Before the thrum of the bow string had died, she had him by the throat, her strong hand choking him.

  He scrabbled at her wrist. How could this be happening?

  He’d been so close.

  “Why?” he gargled.

  “Because that’s my daughter, and I’ve already lost too many babies.” And then she grabbed one of his wrists with her free hand, wrenching the bone. A scream built within his chest, but it only emerged as a strangled groan.

  *

  Hannah shook herself. She didn’t want to follow that memory anymore. But his recollections were still there, still so powerful. Hannah delved deeper into Lance’s past.

  Chapter 74

  Fin was propped on his side with a mound of cushions, so that the bolt didn’t cause any more damage. The bleeding had slowed considerably since Byrne had done the blood transfer, and Alice admitted to herself that she was itching to get a sample so she could study what was happening under a microscope. But she didn’t think anyone else would appreciate that. Well, Dante might, but he wasn’t the best person to follow when it came to social etiquette.

  Hannah lay on the floor, flat on her back on a somewhat tattered blanket; Alice had been permitted to be here only provided she didn’t touch the vampire. If she did, Tatiana would remove her hand, and then possibly her head. To be fair, Tatiana had only threatened the hand thing, but Alice was hedging her bets on that one.

  You’re focusing on this so you don’t have to think about the fact that you thought your brother might be the killer.

  It had only been for a wild second, but she’d thought it.

  She blamed her aunt. But it didn’t stop the shame from pulsing through her.

  The City Guard had since confirmed that Lance had been the murderer. They’d found mementos from each of his victims — locks of hair glued to a page with their name — within his room, along with a stash of wooden stakes. The latter alone was highly illegal in the palace.

  So she still had no idea what had happened to Ashok. Or who might have killed her mother.

  “How’s he doing?” A deep, gravelly voice asked from the doorway.

  Butterflies exploded into flight in her stomach. With all the drama that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, and the things she wished hadn’t happened, the one thing she didn’t regret was Byrne.

  “He’s alive, which is amazing, considering the bolt is sitting right next to his heart.”

  “You were right then, he would never would have survived being Chosen,” Byrne said, stepping closer to her, a sling around his torso.

  Alice shook her head. She’d seen firsthand what wood did to vampire’s hearts. Fin’s would have stopped the moment the transformation took place.

  She gazed at Rena, strapped to Byrne’s chest; he shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. “She was fussing, and Lady Beatrice couldn’t calm her. Rena’s been carried by Fin, Hannah or me ever since she was born. She knows the sound of my heart, and it soothes her.”

  Alice‘s own heart skipped a beat.

  How could she possibly hope to win this man for herself? Just by smelling nice?

  “Do you think Fin will make it?” Byrne asked.

  “I’d know a bit more if I could get a sample of his blood, but then again, I’m limited to what I could see happening from it.”

  “Take one. I’ll try anything that will help.”

  Alice nodded. Her medical bag was back at her place, she’d have to duck home to collect it. Turning to leave, she saw the baron, holding hands with a little girl in the doorway.

  “I don’t think your sister would want you in here,” the human aristo said to the child.

  “Just for a moment,” the girl replied.

  She had bright blue-green eyes, and Alice wondered if that meant she too had a special ability. It was still all so difficult to believe, that there might be people out there with psychic powers.

  But she’d seen Hannah collapse from just a touch, and quite often Dante and Elle seemed to be able to tell what the other was thinking, to the point where only half their conversation was verbal.

  It just meant that she was going to have a very difficult chat with Tal. While she wasn’t meant to know about these powers — she gathered from Byrne that it was all some kind of elaborate secret — she couldn’t keep the fact that she did know from her best friend.

  Who had lied to Alice her entire life.

  The little girl darted forward and put her hand on Fin’s leg. Her eyes widened, and she nodded to herself. Then, just as the baron stepped into the room to retrieve her, she touched Hannah’s leg, too.

  Byrne grabbed the girl’s arm, and gently but firmly pulled her away. “No!”

  “It’s okay, I can touch Hannah.”

  “Emmie,” the baron chided.

  “I’m coming.” The little girl looked at Byrne’s hand and he let her go. She nodded at him, rather regally for such a small child.

  Small? Alice thought. The girl was only a foot and a bit shorter than she was.

  Pausing on the threshold, the girl said, “I think they will be fine. Provided Hannah’s mind fights off whatever is happening to her. And the baby’s okay, too.”

  Byrne nodded, rubbing Rena’s back with a big hand. As the baron escorted the child away down the hall, Alice could hear him scolding her quietly. She seemed to take it in her stride, reaching up and clasping his free hand again.

  “So what next?” Alice asked.

  “I had better Bite Fin again,” Byrne said. “Then we wait.”

  *

  Hannah thought she could hear voices nearby, but she wasn’t sure what was real and what was in her head. Lance’s mind kept creeping in against hers, but she was fighting it. If she could just unravel his secret shame, she might be able to take control over his memories.

  Already she’d learnt that he was the king’s lover and had been hoping to be Chosen by the king himself. He’d been so delusional. He’d thought the king loved him. He thought everyone admired him. And those who didn’t, well, he just removed them from the picture.

  But before he could do that, he’d had to prove to them that they wanted him and that he was ultimately more powerful than them. Hence the method behind his murders.

  No one can know.

  Lance’s voice. In her mind. She focused on it, prying open the memory with all her strength.

  And then it was there.

  “You are a bad person!” His mother was screaming at him, her blue eyes snapping with rage. And pain.

  “You just can’t accept me for who I am!” he yelled back.

  Lance loved his mother. But he also hated her. How dare she tell him how to think, what to feel. So what, he didn’t care about other people. He couldn’t see what the issue was.

  “I know what you did,” she said.

  He froze.

  “I know you took that girl, that you wanted to kill her, but it was only because I came home and caught you that you let her go. You nee
d to stop. You can’t hurt people.”

  “You’re wrong, I can do whatever I want.”

  His mother marched toward the front door. “I’ll stop you! I’ll get the guards.”

  The city guards. That bunch of jackasses?

  But they might try and stop him.

  Leaping forward, he lashed out with his fist. It struck his mother in the side of the head, and she collapsed to the floor with a startled yelp. The sound was so good, that he hit her again. And again.

  But what he really wanted was to feel what it was like to hurt her. Really hurt her.

  Dragging her into her bathroom, he threw her unconscious body on the tiled floor. Then running into his room, he pulled out the knives he’d carefully hidden there. Picking his favorite — the one with serrated edges — he hurried back to his mother. She was awake, groggy and disoriented. The rush of power was intoxicating. This woman had plagued his entire life. Always telling him how he wasn’t good enough.

  Bringing the knife down, the feel of it parting the flesh of his mother’s chest, it was indescribable. But he had to do it again, and again. Blood sprayed over him, over the floor, the walls. He couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. Not until the blood emerged sluggishly from her wounds. Staggering upright, he stared at her body, and a laugh worked its way up his throat.

  He’d killed her.

  She could no longer tell him what to do.

  Lance had to get out of there.

  Quickly, he threw his belongings together. He couldn’t come back here. So he went to the one person who understood him. Who’d help him. Shelter him.

  Ashok.

  But his best friend hadn’t protected him. The blood on his clothing, his story of victory...Ashok hadn’t understood, and his mother had overheard their conversation. And so it had all happened again.

  And then Ashok’s sister had stumbled into the room. Hiding in the shadows, he watched as she tried to take in what was happening. She hadn’t seen Ashok’s body on the floor at his feet. His friend wasn’t dead, no. Lance had plans for him.