Stealing Magic (Vampire Primes) (9 page)

BOOK: Stealing Magic (Vampire Primes)
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The woman had directed her to be silent and was taking her along the wooded path which eventually led down to the only road in the remote, rugged area.

Grace swore when she stubbed her toe on a tree root. Her captor prodded her in the back with the gun barrel.

“I’m not exactly dressed for traveling,” Grace complained.

The gun pressed harder into the base of her spine. “Quiet.”

Grace walked on. She was more annoyed than frightened, though she was not so foolish as to feel any sense of bravado in a dangerous situation. She didn’t think the woman was likely to kill her. She could have done that already. Grace was anxious for the sake of her baby.

Grace continued on in meek silence until they reached the road. Sure enough, a carriage was waiting. It was a large, heavy vehicle with dark curtains shielding the windows. A driver stood by the carriage’s four horses, whose heads were pointed south. When they reached the carriage, the driver came forward and tied Grace’s hands behind her back before lifting her inside the vehicle. The woman followed Grace inside and the door was shut. They were on their way a few seconds later.

The other woman didn’t put the pistol away, but she did relax against her seat. She smiled. “We’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”

* * *

“Your granddaughter? What have you done with my bondmate?” Julien demanded of the mortal woman.

“Bondmate? Vampires bond with each other.”

“Not always. I’m talking about Grace McCoy.”

“So am I.”

“You’ve established you are talking about the same woman,” Brianna said. “She left the house and has not returned. She did not join you, either. I believe this proves she is either in trouble or has run away. I do not believe she has run away.” She took several deep breaths. “You are the one I followed from London,” she said to the McCoy woman. “You have a lovely hint of tea in your scent.”

“Thank you, I think,” the mortal answered. She’d closed the door and was standing in front of it. “You aren’t planning on going outside, are you?” she asked Julien.

“I need to find Grace.”

“Not in broad daylight, you don’t. I’ll not have you injuring yourself when there’s a horde of McCoys that can look for Grace.”

“A horde of McCoys might come in handy,” Julien said. “But I will not hide—”

“It would upset Grace if anything happens to you. I will not risk her in any way.”

“Because of the child you stole from me?”

“Because she’d be devastated if anything happens to you. The fool girl can’t seem to get over you. Vampire Primes do not care about offspring,” she added.

She was absolutely certain.

“Grace is my bondmate,” he repeated. It was nearly impossible to keep his fury under control. There was a tinge of red around the edge of his vision. His fangs pressed against his lower lip. “How could I not love my and Grace’s child? Even if—”

“Why can’t she get over him?” Brianna cut in. “Because she loves him, even if she has no idea what a psychic bond is. Ergo, the mortal belongs with the Prime. This is no time to argue over it. And it is her argument to have with him, besides.”

Julien moved to loom closely over the mortal. “I suspect there are many things witches do not know about vampires. Know this: bondmates can feel each other’s presence. I cannot feel her. Take the spell off me that keeps us apart.” Every word he spoke was a threat.

The woman did not show fear, but her puzzlement was plain. “There are no spells on you, Prime. How could I bespell a vampire? Every bit of magic expended has been used on Grace to keep her away from you. And it’s barely worked, I might add. You’ve a deep hold on her, my lad. And all spells eventually wear off.”

A weight lifted from Julien’s heart. Grace had been kept from him! She
was
a prisoner of her family!

And now it was likely she was a prisoner of someone else. Why? How? Who?

Not that it mattered. That information could wait until she was found. She had better be all right.

“Until the spell wears off, you still have me. Allow me to continue what you hired me for, finding Grace McCoy,” Brianna said. She touched the tip of her nose. “Madam, kindly open the door for me.” She shifted back to her wolf form.

“I had no idea shape shifters actually existed,” the mortal said when Brianna had gone.

“You can discuss it with her later.” Julian reached for his coat again. “Now go gather up that horde of McCoys you promised me.”

Chapter Fourteen

“You’ve been waiting for what for a long time?” Grace asked.

“A
dhamphir
. Central European legend says a
dhamphir
is the offspring of a vampire and a gypsy. It is the rarest of all psychic creatures, born to hunt vampires.”

Grace didn’t know anything about Central European legends, but she did know she was not a gypsy. She was a Celtic Craft Traveler, not Romany gypsy. They were allies and friends with similar wandering ways, but not one and the same. Outsiders often mistook them for each other. She did not attempt to correct the other woman. She certainly wasn’t going to admit to being with child.

What she tried to do was remember where she’d seen her captor before. It had something to do with champagne, she thought. The blonde reached out and took the glass from the tray as—

“You were with the vampire hunter.”

“My sister.” She lifted the pistol, her eyes flashing with anger. “I would kill you if I could. I will kill you when I can.”

Grace held up her hands. “Calm down. It was your sister who attacked Julien.”

“You helped the monster mind rape her.”

What an awful description of what Julien had done to avoid killing his attacker. “He made her forget about—”

“But she remembered. It took time, but she came to her senses. She told me all about what happened. It took us a while to realize that you were there to use the monster for your own purposes.” She sneered. “How could you bear its touch?”

It was more than pleasant, actually. Grace missed Julien’s touch with every breath she took, with every moment away from him.

Well, she didn’t suppose she would have to wait long.

“You think he’ll come for you.” The woman smiled. “We think so, too. But he can’t come before nightfall. We will be ready for him. You will be useful as bait in our trap.”

“I see.” Grace sneered. “How nice to know I can be useful to you in so many ways.”

The sound of a body landing on top of the carriage silenced any reply from the woman. She immediately shot a bullet through the roof.

Grace launched herself across the coach, throwing the woman off balance before she could fire again. The pistol fell to the coach floor.

With her hands tied behind her back, Grace couldn’t grapple with the woman, but she butted her with her head and bit her arm when the woman tried to push her away. The carriage skewed sideways on the road, then came to a jolting halt. Grace and her captor were sent tumbling. The woman snatched up her gun again, just as the carriage door wrenched open.

A figure all in black appeared in the doorway.

“No!” Grace shouted.

The pistol roared at the same instant.

The figure staggered back for a moment. Then he reached into the coach, grabbed the blond woman, and dragged her outside.

It took Grace a few moments. “Please, goddess, please don’t let him be hurt!” she prayed the whole time she struggled to get upright. “Julien!” she shouted when she finally reached the open door. She looked around frantically, seeing several cousins and her youngest brother before she spotted the tall man swathed in black. She burst into grateful tears when she saw him.

“Julien, are you all right?”

He looked at her over the top of a pair of dark glasses. “Perfectly all right, my love.”

The strain in his voice let her know he was not all right. For a moment she thought it was the tears that made his form seem to be wavering before her, then Grace realized it was heat haze rising all around him.

Sunlight.

Oh, dear goddess, it was a beautiful, bright, sunlit day.

And Julien was a vampire.

“Get in here,” she shouted. “I will not have the father of my child smoking.”

He laughed as he bounded into the carriage. He quickly shut the door and drew down the heavy shades, letting out a sigh of relief when darkness surrounded them.

Heat radiated from him.

“Were you really about to catch fire?” she asked.

“Possibly.”

“You are never going out in the daylight again.” Grace’s voice shook with terror for him. Of course he’d had to risk daylight. He had to suspect she’d be bait in a trap.

“I couldn’t bear to be away from you any longer,” he said.

“No more adventures, do you hear me?”

“What if you need rescuing again?”

“All right, you have my permission for that.”

Julien laughed. He took off his dark glasses, hat and gloves and scarf before he turned her and broke the ropes binding her wrists. She turned back and threw her arms around him. His came around her. They held each other close in the private darkness of the coach.

“Thank you so much! I’m so sorry I caused you any kind of pain. I love you so much!”

He held her close, making her feel ever so safe, protected, and cared for.

“And here I thought we would continue our argument when I caught up with you,” he said.

“We have nothing to argue about.”

“Your family might disagree.”

“Hang my family. Which has certainly been known to happen upon occasion,” she added. Grace unfastened his coat buttons so she could see the white shirt beneath. It was stained with blood. “You were shot!”

“It is a small matter,” he assured her. “Already healing. I was fortunate the bullet was not made of silver.”

“She didn’t think you would arrive until after dark.”

“Lucky for us she was wrong.” He sighed. “Vampire hunters are wrong about many things.”

“What about—what was that word she used?
Dhamphir.
The child of a mortal and a vampire that becomes a vampire killer. That’s not real, is it?”

“That old story?” Julien shook his head. “It’s nonsense. There is a legend among vampires about the son of a Prime and a mortal woman who changed into a Prime when he reached adulthood. He was said to be a daywalker, among his many impossible psychic powers. I doubt this person ever existed, but that is the origin of the hunters’ belief in
dhamphirs.
We have nothing to fear for our child.”

She sighed, and smiled. “Our child.”

“Ours,” he said. “The first of many.”

“I look forward to that.”

He drew her onto his lap, and into a deep, lasting kiss.

* * * * *

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