Pretty When She Dies (31 page)

Once her jeans were off, he pulled his lips from her neck and forcibly drew her mouth from his own throat. His blood spilled down her chin and he licked the long rivulet from the base of her throat to her full, bruised lips.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

Her fingers traced up his neck to caress his face as he pulled her body upwards. She could not tear her eyes from him as he pressed himself deep into her sex. She opened for him, hot and ready, and she bit her lip as he fully filled her. Her eyes closed, but he shook her.

“Look at me,” he said again.

She obeyed, pressing her forehead against his as he began to slowly stroke in and out of her. Her legs tightened around him as he pulled her against him and licked the blood off her neck.

They were so terrible for each other and they both knew it. This never should have happened. Every time he slid his cock into her, she would cry out and he looked drugged with her blood and sex. The fingers of one of his hands gripped the back of her neck as he thrust into her.

She kept her gaze locked to his as he slid his other hand under her blouse and tugged on one of her pierced nipples.

“Don't stop,” she muttered as his tongue played over the wound on her neck. It was beyond any experience she had ever had.

It wasn't until he buried his face in her throat and bit her again, that Amaliya felt the terrible sensation of being watched. She knew, for certain, The Summoner was nearby. Anger sliced through her and she gripped Cian's hair with one hand and pushed her hips hard against him, driving his cock even harder into her.

Let him watch,
she thought bitterly.
Let him watch.

Gripping Cian tight inside of her, she bit hard into his throat again and pushed them both over the edge. His nails bit into her ass as he came deep in her and her own nails sliced down his back drawing more blood. Letting his vitae fill her mouth, but not swallowing, she released his flesh.

Slowly, they slid down to the floor together, a tangle of legs and arms.

Cian's tongue lapped up the blood he had spilled as her wounded neck healed and she drew her finger through the blood running down his chest. The sensation of being watched was no longer there and she felt spiteful, yet satisfied.

Cian stared up at the ceiling and let out a shuddering sigh.

“What now?” Amaliya asked softly, almost afraid that he was full of regrets.

He rolled over and opened up the concealed compartment that hid the controls to his sanctuary. Tapping in the code, he looked toward her and gave her a slight smile. The wall behind her slid up and she gave him a suspicious look.

“I want to taste the rest of you,” he said in a low voice that made her legs tremble. He kissed her again and his hands began to undress her.

“Do everything we skipped over the first time.”

Her voice shuddered as she whispered, “Yes, please.”

Easily picking her up, he tossed her onto the bed. As the wall slid down to shroud them in blackness, he crawled between her legs and she moaned with delight.

***

It was close to dawn when The Summoner saw his opportunity. A young woman in jogging clothes slipped out of Cian's building and started down the street holding her car keys. He followed her at a distance, noting her bloodshot eyes and the slight reek of liquor on her breath. She was sobering up and obviously on her way to collect her car. After a short while, she began to jog through the streets and he moved through the shadows silently.

When she reached the empty parking lot, he took note of her rising fear. She had been afraid her car would be gone, either towed or stolen, or damaged in some way. Obviously relieved, she unlocked her car to get in.

“Excuse me,” he said from beside her.

She whirled around, terrified. Her eyes were enormous and she swallowed hard.

“Heather, it's me. Patrick. We met last night at the bar. I was worried about you when you disappeared.”

“I don't remember,” she stuttered.

“We live in the same building? Remember?” He held up his hand and forced her mind to see a key card to match her own.

She leaned forward slightly to see a card with his picture on it and apartment number. Her shoulders began to relax. “Oh, yeah.”

“I just moved here from France, remember? I'm so sorry I startled you. I've had a very late night myself and I was just walking back when I saw you. I was over at IHOP sobering up. You know how cabs are at this time of the night.” He smiled at her gently.

“Oh,” she rubbed her brow, and studied him, obviously trying to remember him. “Yeah. I know about cabs. I know it's stupid to drive when I live so close by, but with high heels on and all.” She floundered and looked nervous.

He could easily force her to have a false memory, but he enjoyed toying with people and seeing them trying to rationalize his actions into their world view.

“Well, anyway, I'm glad you are okay. I'll see you around.” He turned to walk on, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets.

“Oh, well, Patrick, why don't you ride back with me?”

She motioned to her car and glanced toward the horizon. It was slowly growing light and he knew from his many years of life that humans found the sun a comforting signet.

“That would be very kind of you,” he answered and slowly walked around the car. He settled in as she pulled the seatbelt over her lap and chest.

“I had a good time last night, but I definitely drank too much,” she said as she turned on the car.

He knew she was working up to apologizing for not remembering him.

“I'm afraid I did too. I went to IHOP for three hours trying to sober up. I barely remembered your name.” He gave her a charming smile.

She laughed with relief. “I really don't remember you either. I guess because we don't live on the same floor I haven't seen you before.”

“I'm sure we'll see more of each other now,” he assured her.

The tiny sports car zipped up the streets as she made her way back to the apartment building in a roundabout way forced by all the one way street signs.

“That would be cool. I was thinking of doing a barbecue for some people in the building,” she said, and turned onto the ramp leading into the parking garage.

“That sounds quite lovely,” The Summoner decided. “I do enjoy socializing.”

She quickly swiped her card and the gate slowly lifted. The little car zipped up the ramp and she maneuvered to the correct level. “Me, too. I mean, hell, you're only young once. Might as well enjoy it.” She turned the wheel and the car slid easily into her parking slot.

Climbing out of the car, The Summoner could feel the exquisite pleasure of the hunt ratcheting up. The pretty girl with her swinging blond hair and firm body came around the car and headed toward the elevator.

“I'm kinda glad you were walking back. Kinda needed a second set of eyes. God, the cops are so cracking down on people driving drunk.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know it's dangerous, but sheesh. It's like the gestapo.”

She punched the button for the elevator and he stepped up next to her.

“One of the annoyances of life and going out. Trying to outwit the authorities.”

“I remember when I had a fake ID. That seemed so dangerous.” She laughed.

The doors opened and she hopped inside.

He deliberately waited.

“Coming?” she asked.

“I didn't want to make you uncomfortable,” he said smoothly. He waited calmly for his invitation into the elevator, and thus into Cian's little world.

“Come on. We can share an elevator. We're practically old friends.

Get in. Come on,” she laughed coyly. It was now obvious she was flirting with him.

The Summoner stepped into the elevator. As the doors shut, he reached out and banged the back of her head hard into the elevator wall. She crumpled without a sound. Leaning down, he picked up her key card and keys and pocketed them. Tucking his hand under her hair to grasp her neck, he lifted her up so she was leaning against him.

He could feel her heart beating against his chest. It was a delicious sound.

***

The walls were up for now, allowing them a spectacular view of the slowly rousing city of Austin. The sky on the horizon was turning lighter shades of purple and blue. Amaliya could feel the night washing away as the sun rose. She was curled up under the covers of the bed with Cian's arms around her.

Cian kissed her shoulder and rose up to sit beside her. “We'll have to close it soon,” he said.

“It makes me sad, you know,” she said softly. “Never being able to see the sun again.”

His hand slowly slid down her arm and he rubbed his fingers over hers. “I know.”

“I don't remember the last time I saw it. My last moment of seeing daylight happened and I didn't even realize it was important,” she said with her voice full of regret.

“I remember the green of the sugarcane fields and the sun glittering off the white shores as the sun set beyond the edge of the ocean.” His memory tinged his voice with sadness. “I didn't know it was my last day as a mortal, but I stood there wondering what Ireland looked like.

At that point, I could hardly remember anymore.”

He had told her his own story in the aftermath of their lovemaking. It had broken her heart.

Amaliya rolled onto her back and stared up at him. “Do you want to go back to Ireland?”

“Some days,” he admitted. “But then I remember that my family is long dead and my village long gone and that there is nothing there for me anymore.”

“I always feel there is nothing for me,” Amaliya confessed. “Like I belong nowhere. That I am always the visitor, the outsider, never part of the inner circle.”

“Is that why you always run?”

Amaliya frowned at him, but nodded. “Yeah. I think so. Always running to something, I guess. Just not sure what it is.”

He leaned over her, his leanly muscled chest smooth and cold to her touch. “Stay this time. Don't run.”

Amaliya was afraid of his request and she couldn't answer. She always ran away. It was her nature. When things became overwhelming, she always ran. But she had to admit, for the first time in her short life, after having sex with someone, she had not rushed away as soon as it was over.

“Amaliya,” he said again softly.

She pushed herself up onto her elbows and kissed him. Her lips caressed his and she playfully licked the tip of his tongue. It was her way to shut him up and avoid the conversation going in the direction she did not want it to go.

Distracted, Cian kissed her passionately and pushed her back down into the bed. Just as the sun was about to break the horizon, he fumbled for the controls and lowered the walls.

Roberto cast a disdainful look at Cian's sleeping chamber. Amaliya's phone and car keys were right where he had left them the night before.

His Master was a complete idiot and Roberto was disgusted. Sliding off his jacket, he slung it over a chair and went into the kitchen to make himself some coffee. The sun was low over the horizon and the loft was awash in morning light. It was refreshing to his senses after sulking around the Magnolia Cafe all night. He had tried to amuse himself with a book, but had ended up sipping endless cups of coffee and contemplating leaving Cian.

Of course, if he did that, he would begin to age again and eventually die. He was not ready to do that. His relationship with Cian was always a bit odd. They had come together out of necessity. Cian needed shelter; Roberto wanted to live forever. For years they had enjoyed the wild life in Mexico, living rich and fine among the vampires there. They had what Roberto considered adventures until the modern age gripped hold of the world and drove it into the boring reality it was now.

Cian was happy to stay secure in Austin and build up his mini-empire.

Roberto had hoped that one day they would strike out again to new territory, but he could not be certain now. Cian's obsession with being normal and human had dissipated now that Amaliya was on the scene.

That was quite a relief, but it was clear that he was changing into someone Roberto did not know.

Cian was not reverting to the man he had been before. Roberto had found Cian beaten down, nearly destroyed by the vampire hunters. A man who was broken and without a home. Roberto felt he had helped cultivate the former slave into an educated and sophisticated man.

But now Cian was changing and this time Roberto was not certain that he could influence his Master, nor keep his elevated position in his life.

Amaliya had changed everything.

Rubbing his brow, he felt the need for more coffee. He rarely slept, but he was tired now. But he refused to sleep until he sorted out his thoughts and devised a plan of action. Obviously his plan from the day before had failed miserably. He had not been able to be rid of the interloper and now Cian was being an absolute fool.

He poured the coffee slowly into a cup and frowned as he stared into the dark liquid reflecting the morning light. He should have convinced Cian to kill Amaliya the very first night he brought her to the apartment. Now he was uncertain of what to do. He was tied to Cian unless he found another alternative to secure his immortality.

He would miss his time with Cian. For years he had loved Cian as a brother, but then again, he had killed his real brother long ago. Love and hate were not so different when passion was involved.

The doorbell rang and he arched an eyebrow. It rang again a few seconds later and he gently laid the cup on the counter. He slowly walked down the hallway, curious as to who could possibly be at the door. Neither he nor Cian was particularly social and Samantha had her own key.

Peering through the peephole, he saw one of the pretty blonds that lived in the building waiting in the hallway. Roberto had spoken to her on occasion. He had figured out swiftly that she was more interested in his elusive master than in him. It had disappointed him for he thought her breasts were wonderful and in need of caressing. He was very surprised to see her lingering outside their door.

Removing the chain and unlocking it, he slowly opened it. “Heather?