In Memories We Fear Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  chapter one - PORTLAND, OREGON

  chapter two - VALE OF GLAMORGAN, WALES

  chapter three

  chapter four - LONDON

  chapter five

  chapter six

  chapter seven

  chapter eight - MAXIM

  chapter nine

  chapter ten

  chapter eleven - MAXIM

  chapter twelve

  chapter thirteen

  chapter fourteen

  chapter fifteen

  chapter sixteen - PORTLAND, OREGON

  By Barb Hendee

  Praise for the Vampire Memories Series

  Memories of Envy

  “Hendee has a gift for intricate psychological plots, and her characters are some of the best in current fantasy. Their motives and interactions are thoroughly convincing. The series can be enjoyed as single novels or an ongoing story.”

  —Booklist

  “Dramatic . . . part soap opera, part supernatural thriller, Hendee’s series will satisfy readers looking for blood-soaked pathos.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “A real page-turner. The characters really came to life for me. . . . I hope they’re around for many books to come.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  Hunting Memories

  “A gripping tale. The action moves the story along while the characters, with their skills and secrets, keep the reader’s full attention. Hunting Memories is a must read in the series, and it provides many answers in the overall story line. I’ll be looking forward to the next book in the Vampire Memories.”

  —Darque Reviews

  “One of the year’s better vampire novels, what with realistic characters, including ghosts and vampires, who have plausible problems; an intriguing, if standard, plot; historical literacy; and a style of writing that encourages turning pages. Both fantasy and romance fans should enjoy Hendee’s commendable effort.”

  —Booklist

  “Filled with action, a bit of politics, and plenty of character-building interactions, this is a strong addition to the series. . . . Those looking for an alternative to Patricia Briggs or Ilona Andrews won’t be disappointed with Hendee’s newest series.”

  —Monsters and Critics

  “An enjoyable and creative (not just of new vampires) cocktail cleverly blending urban fantasy . . . with strong horror elements . . . a thriller of a vampire tale.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “Barb Hendee . . . knows her vampires.”

  —BSCreview

  Blood Memories

  “A satisfying story line coupled with engaging characters, fast action, and a hint of things to come make this a winner.”

  —Monsters and Critics

  “A good vampire story for the Halloween holiday, the story is fast-paced and intriguing.”

  —News and Sentinel (Parkersburg, WV)

  “Well written . . . a fascinating tale with wonderful characters and delicious villains who solicit the readers into loathing them. The story line is character driven although there is plenty of action throughout.... Vampire subgenre [fans] will enjoy this work as an exhilarating tale of death visiting the undead.”

  —SFRevu

  “A terrific vampire stand-alone thriller that fans will enjoy . . . the story is filled with action, but also contains a strong cast who ensure vampirism in the Northwest seems real.... The heroine especially is an intriguing person.... This [is] a fine tale that the vampire crowd will appreciate.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “Intriguing. . . . Ms. Hendee’s fans will be gratified to know she writes just as well on her own as she does in tandem.”

  —Huntress Book Reviews

  “A blend of fantasy and horror mixed with the story of one young woman’s path to independence and true knowledge of self, Blood Memories is a unique story guaranteed to intrigue.... Readers won’t be able to resist Eleisha’s charm.... If you enjoyed Buffy the Vampire Slayer but were far more interested in where the older vamps came from than in the human heroine herself, this story should certainly catch your fancy. Cunning, stealth, guile, sheer evil, and a surprising amount of goodness make all of these characters alive and unique. A story line that travels from modern-day Portland, Oregon, to England in the 1800s adds interest as well. If you like vampires, then you’re certain to enjoy Eleisha’s story. Don’t miss Blood Memories, the first in what promises to be a fantastic new series.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “I personally liked Blood Memories quite a bit. I am pleased to say that it is in no way a Buffy clone nor is it anything like the goofy paranormal romances that turn vampires into some kind of harmless nonmonster with strange eating habits. I like how Hendee explores the personalities of her characters.”

  —Fantasy & Sci-Fi Lovin’ Book Reviews

  “An engrossing tale of vampire death and evolution.”

  —Patricia’s Vampire Notes

  By Barb Hendee

  The Vampire Memories Series

  Blood Memories

  Hunting Memories

  Memories of Envy

  In Memories We Fear

  By Barb and J. C. Hendee

  The Noble Dead Saga—Series One

  Dhampir

  Thief of Lives

  Sister of the Dead

  Traitor to the Blood

  Rebel Fay

  Child of a Dead God

  The Noble Dead Saga—Series Two

  In Shade and Shadow

  Through Stone and Sea

  Of Truth and Beasts

  ROC

  Published by New American Library, a division of

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014, USA

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:

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  First published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  First Printing, October 2011

  ISBN : 978-1-101-54473-0

  Copyright © Barb Hendee, 2011

  All rights reserved

  REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, busines
s establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  For Renate Arnzen,

  my sweet friend, who found and rescued

  the real Tiny Tuesday

  chapter one

  PORTLAND, OREGON

  Midautumn was approaching, and even at night, the trees lining Naito Parkway were glorious in their shades of red and yellow. Sunset came much earlier in the Northwest once summer gave way to fall.

  Eleisha Clevon ran along the river, laughing once as she turned to see her companion coming behind.

  “Eleisha,” he called out in a heavy French accent, “what are you doing?”

  “Catch me!”

  Tonight she almost felt like the teenage girl she appeared to be, wearing jeans, canvas sneakers, and a loose sweater. Her dark blond hair whipped across her face in the cool air as she glanced back once more, just in time to see her companion bolt forward, his body moving so fast it became a blur.

  Before she’d run two more steps, he cut her off. His hand shot out and pressed against a tree trunk a few inches from her shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” he said again.

  Eleisha looked up into Philip Branté’s face, seeing his eyes glow in surprise. He was so tall, she had to tilt her head back.

  She didn’t answer and ducked under his arm, dashing away, laughing again. In all her 187 years on this earth, she couldn’t remember ever being able to play with anyone the way she could with Philip. Tonight, she wanted to show him how much he had changed her. The sight of her running and laughing might confuse him at first, but he was catching on.

  “Eleisha!” he called.

  Then he stopped talking and ran after her, darting around her easily, leaning down, and throwing her over his shoulder. A stocky man in a baseball cap passed by and glanced over, but Eleisha was still laughing, so the man just shook his head and smiled. She and Philip must have looked like two lovers playing by the river.

  Maybe they were.

  “Okay, I’ve caught you,” Philip said, turning in a slow circle. “Now what?”

  She didn’t bother struggling—it would have been pointless—and ran her hands down the back of his Armani coat. He leaned over again and put her down, studying her face intently as if unsure of her identity.

  But he didn’t look displeased. He just looked intense, with little idea of what to say or do.

  “What is this all about?” he finally asked, his accent thicker than normal. “Pourquoi? Why are you so different?”

  His skin was ivory, and his eyes were a shade of light amber. He wore his red-brown hair in layers down to the top of his collar, and he wore the long Armani coat to cover the machete fastened to his belt.

  “I’m happy,” she answered.

  And she was. Until last spring, she’d lived an almost completely solitary life as a caretaker for an aged, damaged vampire. But then everything changed, and now she was living in an old church with Philip, along with another vampire, Rose de Spenser, and a telepathic mortal, Wade Sheffield. She wasn’t alone anymore.

  And they were looking for others like themselves, vampires in hiding, who didn’t want to be alone anymore either.

  At first, this transition had been like a shock of cold water for Eleisha—almost painful—as it had been for Philip, and they’d not always been good company for each other, but that, too, had changed, and throughout the past month he’d become more and more aware of her loneliness, of her need to talk about the past . . . and he’d listened.

  She loved him for it.

  They’d come out here to feed tonight, and she knew this area was his favorite hunting ground. She hadn’t fed in more than a week, and she was hungry, but she also wanted to please him, to make their existence interesting for him. Philip was easily bored—one of his faults—so she tried to keep him entertained.

  “Do you remember the game we played a few nights after moving here?” she asked. “Where we tried to outdo each other in the hunt . . . competed for whose prey was a bigger risk?”

  “You hated that game. You argued with me.”

  Yes, she had, but she hadn’t completely trusted him then. Back in their separate worlds, for nearly two hundred years, they had both killed mortals to feed. The rapidly turning wheel of recent events had taught Eleisha that she didn’t need to kill to feed, that she could replace a victim’s memories and leave the person alive—unconscious but alive. She’d taught Philip how to do this.

  He was a predator by nature, and this had been the hardest adjustment for him. But he’d done it. He’d become so skilled with both his telepathy and his self-control that she never worried anymore. She trusted him now.

  “Chicken?” she asked, teasing him like a mortal.

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “New rules,” he said, switching gears as quickly as always. “I choose your prey for you. You have to win with whomever I pick.” Philip lived in the moment. That was another thing she liked about him. She tended to dwell too much on the past.

  “Done,” she said. “But then I get to choose yours.”

  He flashed a smile—somewhat disturbing, as he did this so rarely. “Done,” he repeated.

  Without another word, he turned and headed for Front Avenue, slipping around the far side of the Marriott. She followed, moving behind him, wondering what he was up to, but she took pleasure in his expression as he scanned the sidewalk. He was enjoying this.

  Although it rained a good deal in Portland, especially in fall and winter, tonight was cool and clear.

  Together they watched a wide variety of mortals walk past: groups of teenagers, old couples, young couples, and any number of people alone as they hurried by. Philip kept stock-still, just watching, until he suddenly pointed toward the exit from a parking garage.

  “That one,” he said quietly.

  A tall man with an expensive haircut and a tailored suit was heading across the street at an even but determined pace. He carried a computer case in one hand and a stack of enlarged cardboard charts in the other. Even from this distance, Eleisha could see his eyes were hard and focused, as if he were reviewing a speech in his head.

  She wanted to groan.

  She’d never been good with corporate sharks, and Philip knew it.

  He turned his head and flashed another smile, trying to parody her voice. “Chicken?” When she hesitated, he said, “Better hurry or you’ll lose him before you start.”

  “Pick someone else,” she urged.

  “No.”

  The man was halfway across the street, heading for the hotel’s glass doors. Eleisha’s sensible caution kicked in, and she wondered about the wisdom of suggesting this game for Philip’s amusement. In spite of her newfound sense of happiness, she took the cautions of hunting seriously, and there were several essential components that could never be forgotten. For one, the victim had to be left someplace safe, someplace where he could not be hurt or robbed while unconscious. Eleisha almost always lured the person into a car so she could lock the doors and let him wake up on his own in a secured place. That wasn’t an option here.

  And for another, victims were always chosen with deference to the particular vampire’s “gift.” Within a few nights of becoming undead, a specific element of the vampire’s previous personality developed into an overwhelming aura, which could be turned on and off at will. Eleisha’s gift was an aura of helplessness. So now she always chose people who were either sympathetic or protective.

  Corporate sharks w
ere neither; they tended to care about only themselves and their bank accounts.

  “Better go,” Philip said almost gleefully.

  Eleisha wanted to kick herself. Creative thought and improvisation were integral components to winning this game. But where could she possibly take this man so they could be alone, and that she could still leave him in safety? She couldn’t just lure him into an alley and leave him there. If he was coming from the parking lot across the street, he didn’t have a room at the Marriott. He was probably here to give some kind of presentation.

  Giving Philip an exasperated look, she headed out and, cutting the man off before he reached the doors, reached out with her mind to pick up any stray surface thoughts. She almost stumbled at the desperation hidden behind his impassive face.

  Can’t lose this one.

  Too much on the Visa now.

  Lose the house if this fails.

  At least the card cleared at the desk.

  She tried to unjumble his thoughts, realizing as she searched that he did have a room at the hotel, but he couldn’t afford valet parking—which was the only option at this hotel. He’d gone to his car to get a few last-minute items for a sales pitch.

  Eleisha hurried toward him, knowing this was going to be impossible without leaning heavily on her gift, but she threw pride to the wind.

  “Sir, please,” she said, holding up her hands and letting her gift flow. “Please help me.”

  For just a second, she worried he wasn’t even going to stop—not even going to look down—but he did.

  “I don’t have time for—,” he started, and his eyes locked on her face.

  She was dressed all wrong, looking neither like a damsel in distress nor a pretty street urchin. For God’s sake . . . she was trying this in a pair of canvas sneakers and one of Philip’s old sweaters that hung halfway to her knees.