Bitten (The Graced Series Book 2)

by Amanda Pillar

  “Mom?” her voice came out strangled, weak. Then, “Ashok?”

  She stepped further into the room. He couldn’t risk her seeing him, and so he brought the knife down. It didn’t feel anywhere near as sweet as when he had stabbed his mother, or Ashok and his bitch parent. But it still felt good. He wanted to make sure she was dead but he heard voices yelling in the room next door. He could get caught.

  And so he ran, dragging his former friend’s unconscious body with him.

  *

  Hannah jerked upright. She was in a small room, lying on a tattered blanket next to—

  “Fin!”

  Scrambling toward him, she held his pale face between her hands. He was breathing. By the blood, he was still breathing. Resting her forehead against his, she was just grateful he was still alive.

  “Welcome back. We thought we’d almost lost you, too.”

  Byrne stood in the doorway, Rena strapped to his chest. “How long was I out?”

  “Three days.”

  “Three days?” Shock held her rooted to the spot.

  Byrne nodded. “I did the last Bite this morning. We now have to wait three more days until we know if Fin makes it. But he’s alive so far, and that’s the best we can hope for. Dante said when he tried to Choose fully Graced people, they died instantly on the third transfer.”

  For some reason, that was comforting, even though it shouldn’t be.

  “We need to get a message to the king,” Hannah said.

  “Which one?” Byrne asked.

  “The King of Pinton.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I saw something in Lance’s memories, something that can’t wait.”

  “I’ll call a messenger,” Byrne said, and headed out of the room.

  Hannah hoped it wasn’t already too late. And in the next few days, she was going to have to talk to Byrne’s human friend, Alice. She’d recognized the girl’s face from Lance’s memories. He’d been responsible for so much death.

  Turning back to Fin, she pressed a kiss to his still lips. “Three days.”

  Chapter 75

  “You want me to do what?”

  Alice was in the morgue, examining a sample of Fin’s blood.

  “The king has asked for you to pay him a visit,” Misty said, her lavender eyes hard like flints. “With your medical bag, and some surgical equipment.”

  Alice wasn’t sure what she’d done to annoy the vampire, but she didn’t particularly care, either. Maybe Misty and Tal were having problems. Alice wouldn’t know. She hadn’t had time for that conversation yet. Or any conversation for that matter.

  “Surgical equipment?”

  “Whatever you would need for surgery.”

  “What kind of surgery?”

  Misty propped a hand on one hip. “Are you going to stand there and repeat everything I have to say, or will you get moving?”

  “But I have to meet Byrne in fifteen minutes.”

  The viscountess considered for a moment. “Bring him with you.”

  Right.

  And so that was how Alice found herself heading to the Crystal Palace, bag full of surgical gear, werebear and vampire in tow. What had happened to her old, uncomplicated life?

  *

  “How can you tell if someone has been subject to wood poisoning?” the king asked.

  “Excuse me?” Alice said. “Your Majesty.”

  She stood with Misty, Byrne, and the other were, Clay, in the king’s bedchamber. The room was so opulent her brain had just given up processing it all properly. Gold here, silver there, tapestries, woven mats, delicate pieces of furniture and antiques so old and rare she didn’t even know what they could be worth. The king himself was seated in a chair next to a small table, inlaid with a mother-of-pearl mosaic.

  “If a vampire were to have been fed, say, sawdust, how could you tell?”

  “Why would a vampire willingly eat sawdust?”

  “Say it wasn’t willingly.”

  Misty took an angry step forward, a glass jar of white powder in one hand. “Lance fed the king sawdust. We found his supply.”

  “Hannah saw him do it,” Byrne rumbled.

  Alice took the container from Misty. Her hand shook as she removed the lid and dipped a finger in the contents. It was so finely ground the king wouldn’t have noticed it in his food. But that raised another question.

  “Why were you eating food anyway, Your Majesty?”

  “To be social,” the king said. “Lance preferred I did it. To make him feel more welcome in my home. Because sharing my bed wasn’t enough!” He thrust himself up from his chair, but his face paled and he fell back into his seat.

  That wasn’t a good sign.

  “The only way to tell for sure would be to inspect the heart,” Alice said.

  “But I ate the wood — wouldn’t it be my stomach?” the king said.

  “If your body could process and get rid of the allergen — the wood — then you’d be okay. But if it got into your blood stream...it would entirely depend on how much had made it to your heart.”

  The king looked at Misty, then Alice. “Do it then. Look at my heart.”

  “But—”

  “I can gather what is involved. I need to know the state of my health.”

  “Why me?” Alice blurted.

  King Johan stared at her for so long that she thought he might not answer. Then he sighed. “You are the leading expert on vampire physiology in this kingdom, aside from the head of medicine at the university. And I do not want another vampire knowing about this. No other human doctor has the same amount of hands-on experience as you do regarding wood reactions in vampires. Is this not correct?”

  Alice wanted to say no, it wasn’t. But that would be lying. She’d just performed four autopsies on vampires. More than any other doctor probably had in their lifetimes.

  “Will you do this service for your kingdom?” the king asked.

  Alice nodded. What other choice did she have?

  Byrne and Clay had to hold the king down. He’d been laid out on a beautiful gold-lined table, inlaid with mother-of-pearl. The carpeted floors were never going to be the same after this. It didn’t help matters that he hadn’t wanted an anesthetic — but then, she didn’t know if it would even work on a vampire. It was hit-and-miss with most human patients. Plus, she didn’t have to bother with it normally because her patients were dead when they were operated on.

  Normally, cutting open a person’s chest and prying their ribs apart didn’t bother her. But when the patient was alive, and conscious? Well, that was an entirely different story. She used a scalpel to cut open the king’s chest, and winced when he grunted around the leather he was biting on. It was going to get worse. Alice used a set of retractors to hold the skin open, and then broke several of his ribs. The king moaned and his fangs protruded past his lips, cutting into the flesh of his chin. Twin rivulets of blood ran down his neck.

  Looking into her monarch’s ribcage, Alice stared at his beating heart. She wished Dante was there, because his eyesight would pick up on any damage much better than hers could. But the fact she could see damage at all? That was bad.

  Nodding, Alice began bending the ribs back into place — they had already started to heal. “Just rip them off,” Clay said.

  Alice choked on her saliva. “What?”

  “They’ll grow back. If you put them back, they’ll heal again, but will be loose in the meantime and could cause more damage if they break off. Just snap them off.”

  She couldn’t do it.

  With a hiss, Misty darted forward and broke the ribs clean through. The king screamed, and then fainted.

  Alice made quick work of stitching him back up. He was conscious again by the end of it, but at least he’d had a few moments rest. She pulled off her gloves and looked around for a bin.

  “Here.” Clay shoved a waste basket at her. It was entirely made of gold. She dumped th
e gloves in it and turned to the king.

  “Would you like the others to hear what I’ve got to say?”

  His intense purple gaze met hers and then he barked, “Out. Except Misty.” Silently Byrne and Clay left the room. “Make sure they go far enough away,” the king added, no doubt mindful of the weres’ acute hearing.

  Misty walked over to the entry and called out to the guards to escort Byrne and Clay to the gardens. She shut the door, and Alice noticed there were pink dots spattering her pale gown.

  They waited for several minutes before Misty nodded for them to speak.

  Alice took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

  “You’re sorry?”

  “The damage to your heart is extensive. I can see it at a macroscopic level. The tissue is black. And it doesn’t seem to be regenerating.”

  Misty stared at her. “What are you saying?”

  “You’re dying.”

  “But, why is it so slow?”

  Alice shook her head in frustration. “Usually, wood exposure is sudden and severe, but this has been a slow build up. Because the sawdust was absorbed into your bloodstream, it has been affecting your heart bit by bit; but not slow enough that your heart had time to heal on its own. Exposure to any more wood will cause your heart to fail. ”

  “Could there be more sawdust in his system?” Misty asked.

  Alice nodded.

  “I see.”

  “So do I.” The king’s sounded tired. Worn.

  “I don’t think your heart will be able to heal from this much damage. I’m sorry.” Alice looked at her feet.

  “So I might live, provided I am not exposed to more wood. Which is unlikely.”

  “Yes.” She wished it were otherwise.

  Silence fell.

  “So what now?” Alice asked.

  Misty looked at her. “What do you mean?”

  She wished it wasn’t so, but...“I presume you’ll kill me?”

  The king chuckled, then gasped in pain.

  “But I know what’s wrong with you,” Alice said.

  “As will everyone else, eventually. I won’t kill your for the knowledge. But I expect you to try and work out if there is a way to save me. Now please, go.”

  Dismissed, Alice grabbed her medical bag. She would clean her equipment back in the morgue. Turning back to the king, she asked, “Do you know why he did this?”

  Misty snorted. “He wanted to be Chosen, and Johan kept saying no. We think this was his little revenge. But we don’t know if he knew it would kill Johan, or just make him sick.”

  Knowing some of the things that Lance had done, Alice had a feeling he knew exactly what it would do to the king. But such thoughts were better kept to herself. She left.

  Chapter 76

  It was the third day since the final transfer.

  Hannah had barely left Fin’s beside, except for when she’d needed to attend to nature or bathe. She even drank her cup of pig’s blood next to him. She didn’t particularly enjoy the taste, but she needed blood now more than ever, perhaps because she was still recovering from touching Lance’s corpse.

  She’d been out for three whole days.

  She’d missed Fin being Bitten. She hadn’t been there for Rena. If it hadn’t been for Byrne, they would have been screwed. Fin thought he was a failure; it was her who’d let down everyone around her. But she’d had to know what had caused Lance to try to kill her, to almost kill Fin.

  And now she did.

  It was because he was a deranged sociopath.

  She figured his mother had known what he was early on — her having Blue eyes, and all — but he hadn’t been aware that his mother was Graced. And so he’d just seen her as a condescending and demanding woman. Not as an empath who could literally feel her son’s monstrous nature.

  And a monster he’d been.

  Even Hannah’s mother wasn’t that bad. Oh, she done lots of horrible things in her life, Hannah knew, but she didn’t kill just for fun. She did it to defend what was hers. And maybe sometimes to prove a point. But her mother was a psychopath who’d been born in a lab so long ago that it might as well be a myth; at least that’s what it was to everyone else.

  “How’s he going?” Byrne asked, coming into the room. The conversation felt far too familiar. It had been repeated in some form or another ever since Byrne had done the final Bite.

  “Alive. But still out of it.” Hannah was holding onto one of Fin’s hands. Touching him anchored her, and she hoped that it did the same to him. That he’d fight to stay with her, and Rena.

  “It should be any time now. Once he’s awake, we can take out the bolt.”

  Hannah nodded. She’d been waiting nervously since she woke, listening to his heartbeat to make sure he was still with them, that he was still—

  There was no sound from within his chest.

  Hannah strained to hear the next beat, convinced that she must have just missed it.

  Nothing.

  “Fin!”

  Panic boiled through her, she couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not after almost making it.

  Byrne rushed forward, shoving her aside. He lifted Fin’s head, retracting his lips, peering intently into Fin’s mouth. Then, with a sigh, he sat back on his heels next to the bed. “It’s okay.”

  “Okay?” Hannah cried. “His heart’s stopped!”

  Byrne put a hand on hers. “Give it a few more seconds.”

  She stared down at the were’s hand, his skin dark against hers, but there was no press of his memories into her mind.

  So he did have a mental shield.

  And then it happened.

  Thump.

  Thump.

  Thump.

  Tears coursed down her cheeks as she grabbed Fin’s arm. He was alive!

  He’d stayed with her.

  “Why did it stop?” she asked, once she’d counted two hundred heartbeats. Two hundred and fifty.

  “His heart was the final organ to change. It had to stop for that to happen. It’s why the stupid leeches are called the living dead.”

  “Huh. I’m a stupid leech, you know.”

  “Nah, you’re a smart one.”

  Hannah chuckled, but the sound was watery.

  And then the most amazing thing happened.

  Fin opened his eyes.

  *

  Everything was too loud, and too bright. And people were blathering crap in his head. Byrne was sitting next to him, Hannah on his right. She was crying.

  “Why are you crying?” Fin asked.

  “This is going to hurt,” Byrne said. And then razor-sharp agony sliced through his chest.

  Fin’s back bowed. “Mother fucker!”

  “All fixed,” Byrne said with a grin, holding up a crossbow bolt.

  What the fuck was he doing with that?

  “Couldn’t you have warned him?” Hannah demanded.

  “And have him go into a panic attack about it? No.” Byrne shook his head.

  The pain was already fading. And Fin was hungry. Like, really hungry. For a steak. The bloodier the better. Which was odd. He liked his meat well done.

  A memory flashed through his mind. Someone shooting at Hannah, him pushing her out of the way. Pain exploding through every inch of his body.

  How was he alive? He shouldn’t be...

  Turning a narrowed gaze onto Byrne, he then shifted his attention to the arrow.

  “Byrne, did you—”

  He couldn’t even form the words in his mind.

  ‘How am I going to tell him?’

  “Tell me what?” Fin demanded, staring at his best friend. The bastard.

  ‘Shit, is he hearing my thoughts?’

  Fin shoved himself up, wincing in anticipation of the pain in his ribs, from the crossbow bolt. But nothing hurt. He felt fan-fucking-tastic.

  “You fucking Bit me!” He couldn’t believe it. “I could have died, you
moron!”

  “You were dying anyway,” Byrne snapped.

  “Maybe I would have liked to die a hero.”

  “Oh, come on. Die a hero? Are you listening to yourself?”

  “Don’t be a jackass.”

  “A jackass?”

  “You Bit me!” But Fin’s voice had gained an air of wonder.

  Byrne grinned. “Sure did.”

  “And I survived.”

  “Sure did.” And then Byrne was hugging him. And he was hugging Byrne. And holding out a hand to Hannah, who leapt on them both.

  “So you can touch Byrne?” Fin asked, looking around the bear’s shoulder.

  “Yep!” Hannah said.

  “You touch her and I’ll kill you,” Fin growled at the were.

  Literally growled.

  “Byrne’s dating someone now,” Hannah said in a whisper that wasn’t really a whisper.

  ‘She’s awesome.’ And then in his head, Fin got a picture of the coroner. Being Bitten by Byrne had given him, what? A mental link? Kick-started his telepathy?

  “Whoa, Byrne. I’d hold onto these thoughts.” Then Fin grinned. He could torment Byrne from a distance now. Awesome. “This is gonna be great!”

  Byrne groaned. “My worst nightmare has come to pass.”

  “Now, more importantly,” Fin said. “Did I get any more handsome? I mean, I know it’s hard for that to be imaginable. But did I?”

  Byrne took a swipe at his head. “No, you’re still ugly.”

  Hannah laughed. “As handsome as ever, although your eyes are different.”

  Fin’s breath hitched. “Different bad or different good?”

  Hannah leaned in close. “Well, they’re yellow with Green flecks. I don’t mind them, but then, I’m a little biased.”

  ‘I’m out,’ Byrne thought, got up and left the room.

  “Finally, I thought he’d never go,” Fin whispered. Hannah laughed. He’d never get tired of hearing that sound. He focused hard on tuning out everything else; the sounds, the smells, and the random thoughts. There was only one thing he wanted to be thinking about right now, and her name was Hannah.

  Chapter 77

  Byrne wandered the Greystoke garden.