Pretty When She Kills (26 page)

“Silver?” Samantha asked.

“Yep. Aim for eyes and throats...if it comes to that.” Jeff shut his door and Samantha locked the vehicle.

“Ready to go kick some ass...if we have to?” Samantha tried to put on her best tough girl pose.

Jeff leaned over and kissed her on the lips. “Be careful. You’re not Buffy.”

Rubbing her fingertips lightly across his chin, she said, “Good, because then I’d be totally doing my Giles.”

Hand in hand, they headed toward the cemetery behind the old farm house.

* * *

Rachon was annoyed. Prosper’s pop star crush was singing about the joys of S & M, the music blasting out of the car speakers as his Cadillac sailed along the highway. No matter how many times Rachon told him to turn down the noise, it seemed to creep steadily back up. Sitting in the back seat, she glowered at the back of his bald head. He ignored her, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

They had spent the day in a hotel in San Marcos, south of Austin, watched over by their human minions while they slept. Rachon hated being out of her state and had slept clutching a dagger. She had kept Bianca at her side, her other hand holding the girl’s wrist. She was paranoid, but with good reason. She was so close to fulfilling her duty to The Summoner she couldn’t allow any possibility of failure to creep into her dealings.

Upon awakening, the vampires had feasted on a few students from the nearby university. Prosper had left their human minions behind to clean up the mess. The vampires had overindulged in anticipation of the night’s events. Rachon still felt her body transforming the blood she had consumed into power and life.

Rachon was in high spirits, but that didn’t mean her temper was in check. She was anxious to deal with the situation and move on to her greater plans. Lounging comfortably in the backseat of the Cadillac, she busily texted on her phone.

Next to her, Bianca stared out the car window at dark terrain. As always, she was silent, her huge blue eyes vacant. Rachon lifted one hand and gently stroked the silky white-blond hair.

“We’re almost there, pretty girl,” Rachon said over the pounding music.

Bianca didn’t blink, didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge her in the slightest.

Gently, Rachon placed her dark fingers under the white chin of the delicate face and turned it toward her. Bianca’s lovely face was devoid of thought or emotion. “When we get there, you must do what I say, my little darling. Can you do that?”

The blue eyes shifted toward her slightly.

“Do you understand me, Bianca? You must do as I tell you.”

Very slowly, the girl blinked, her blue eyes resting on Rachon’s face, but not seeming to really see her.

“You do understand, don’t you?” Rachon grinned, rubbing the girl’s pink cheek with the back of her hand. “I think you’re somewhere in there, listening to me.”

“Almost there!” Prosper shouted over the music.

Cradling Bianca’s face between her hands, Rachon gently kissed her forehead, then rubbed her lips on the girl’s silky hair. “Oh, my sweet little thing. We’re about to rain hell down on our enemies. And it will be glorious.”

Bianca did not answer. She simply stared.

Chapter 22

The night wind tossed the limbs of the trees into a wild dance while the bats darted through the sky chasing succulent insects. Cian crouched in the clearing in the middle of Zilker Park near downtown Austin, his head craned, listening to the sounds of the city just beyond the belt of thick foliage spreading out along the river.

It was well past the appointed time of Rachon’s arrival. She was not answering her cellphone and her absence was disturbing. Resting his elbow on his knees, Cian’s fingers raked the coarse grass.

Amaliya stood next to him, arms folded over her breasts, her bleeding wrists dripping cold blood onto the ground. She’d be able to call the dead from the cemeteries scattered around Austin thanks to Eduardo pouring her blood onto a grave in each one. They had come prepared for a battle, but all was silent in the park. The scent of Amaliya’s blood was intoxicating. It blotted out the musty smell of the detritus putrefying after a recent rain and the mold growing over the rocks tucked into the edge of the river. It almost overwhelmed Eduardo’s cologne, but not quite.

Tucked behind the tree line, Cian could barely make out the hulking shape of the hunters’ van. It had been there when the three supernaturals had arrived at the park. It was just like mortals to believe they were concealed when they actually weren’t. He could even spot the cameras in the trees. Jeff’s people were not quite as good as they thought they were.

Eduardo yawned, sounding more animal than human.

Cian drew himself up. Amaliya glanced at him briefly, then returned her gaze to some distant point in the trees. She was dressed in tight black jeans, thick combat boots, and a black tank top with a middle finger emblazoned on it. It had amused Cian when he had seen it. Amaliya didn’t seem to quite grasp the concept of diplomacy.

“They’re not coming,” Amaliya said.

“Maybe they’re delayed,” Cian mused.

“Nah, she’s right. They’re not coming.” Eduardo shrugged his wide shoulders. “You got power-played, man.”

Casting a sharp look at the coyote, Cian said, “Do you know something?”

“No, I’m just taking a guess here, but I think your sister got you all riled up just so she could stand you up and show you who’s da boss.”

“I’m bleeding all over the place for no damn good reason,” Amaliya grumbled.

Cian hated admitting it to himself, but Eduardo had a good point. Rachon was temperamental and prone to unusual stunts. He hadn’t anticipated that she simply wouldn’t show up.

“Maybe we were lured out here for Santos to attack us,” Amaliya offered.

Eduardo inhaled deeply through his nose, then shook his head. “Except that there aren’t any vampires around but you two.”

Amaliya grimaced and lifted her wrists. Cian saw the weeping wounds gradually heal as her eyes glowed. With a growl of frustration, he kicked the ground, striking a divot into the dirt.

“She’s playing games,” Cian uttered through clenched teeth.

“Well, she’s his favorite kid,” Amaliya reminded him.

He bobbed his head in terse agreement, stalking about the other two. “What purpose does it serve to lure us out here? What does she gain from this?”

Amaliya shrugged. “It pisses you off.”

“Which is actually kind of funny,” Eduardo added.

The wind swirled around him, ruffling his hair and bringing with it the scents of humanity, not the supernaturals. Cian shook his head in anger.

“No, no. It’s something else. She does nothing lightly. There is a purpose to all she does, even if she is temperamental. What is Rachon up to?” Cian ran a hand through his long hair, letting it fall through his fingers to rest against his shoulders.

“What does she want?” Amaliya asked. “That’s what we have to figure out.”

Cian peered upward at the cloudless sky and pondered the question. Rachon had loved The Summoner. They had fought at times, but Cian knew that she would come to their creator’s side to defend him despite the distance. He remembered Rachon’s glee as she had tortured Cian in the ruins of a pyramid in Mexico while The Summoner calmly killed Cian’s mortal minions and stitched them back together as grotesque creatures. Maybe he had underestimated her devotion to The Summoner. If Rachon was out for revenge, she would have to find a way to destroy Cian and Amaliya. Possessing Bianca definitely evened the odds, but Rachon had not shown up with her own powerhouse of necromantic magic.

“It’s a distraction,” Cian decided, stopping in his stride, frowning. “She drew us here to distract us from something else.”

“If she wants Austin doesn’t she have to kill us?” Amaliya asked.

“Yep, but she’s not here,” Eduardo said and yawned again. “Fucking boring night. Thought I’d have a nice little fight to enjoy.”

“What else would Rachon want?” Cian paced, agitated. “This makes no sense. We’re missing something.”

“We don’t know something,” Amaliya corrected him.

Eduardo’s head jerked swiftly to one side and he inhaled deeply. “We have company and it’s not vampires.”

A scream rent the air.

“The van!” Amaliya shouted, breaking into a run.

Cian sprinted after her, Eduardo on his heels. Through the trees the van was hidden behind, he saw the flash of a light. The scream sounded male and raised voices competed with it. Amaliya plunged into the trees, eyes flashing white. Cian followed in her wake and barely caught sight of a woman shouting into the van just before Amaliya grabbed her and tossed her away.

“Back off, bitch!” another woman shouted, raised one hand, and swept it toward Amaliya.

Amaliya flew backward into the trees, branches snapping and cracking as she vanished into the gloom.

Alexia and Benchley shouted incoherently at Cian and Eduardo, but both men ignored them as they lunged toward the woman with long bronze hair and blue eyes. Jaw set and eyes blazing, she thrust her hands outward. Cian was hit with the force of a truck and knocked through the foliage. His body hit a tree trunk, snapping bones.

“Fuck!” Cian roared, healing instantly.

Recovering, he leaped to his feet and hurtled back into the fray. He was almost to the witch when the first woman he had seen appeared before him and slammed her fist into his face. He staggered, then seized her arm. She instantly raised her other hand, a silver tipped dagger in it.

“Get the fuck away from us!” The light from the open van spilled over her features. She had heavily-fringed blue eyes and chestnut-brown hair that fell in silky waves to her chin.

“Galina?” Cian gasped.

The young woman hesitated, her full lips parting slightly. After a second, she said, “No, that’s my mother.”

Cian let go of her abruptly. Staring at the defiant woman before him, he rubbed his chin as it healed. She wasn’t a vampire, but...

“Stupid bitches!” Eduardo howled, his mouth full of teeth that were not human as he lunged forward out of the darkness. He had obviously been cast away, too. Bits of twigs and leaves clung to his hair.

Cian caught Eduardo by the back of the neck and hauled him to his side. “Stand down!”

“They’re friends!” Alexia’s words finally registered over Benchley’s incoherent shouting.

Behind the woman who had slugged him and held him hostage at the end of her stake, the witch lowered her hands, though her body was still tensed for battle.

Amaliya surged out of the trees, eyes glowing bright white. One of her arms was broken, the bone protruding just below her elbow. As she stomped forward, she popped it back into place.

“Fucking cunt!” Amaliya screamed, slashing one wrist with her nails.

“Amaliya, stop!” Cian ordered. He held out a hand to ward her off.

“Don’t make me give you flying lessons again,” the witch threatened.

“They’re friends!” Alexia shouted again. “Amaliya, don’t do anything!”

Amaliya’s eyes continued to glow as her blood dripped onto the ground. “Cian, what’s going on?”

“I’m not certain yet.” Cian couldn’t tear his eyes from the face of the young woman standing before him. She strongly resembled Galina, the human lover of the former master of the Austin cabal, the woman Cian had spared from the massacre because he had loved her. But there was a hint of another familiar face in her features. He could barely comprehend what he was seeing. “Who are you?”

The woman slowly lowered the stake and stood before him with a defiant tilt to her head. “My name is Cassandra. This is my girlfriend Aimee. We’re here to find Jeff.”

Both of the women were in jeans. Cassandra was wearing a form-fitting t-shirt with the Batman logo on it while Aimee wore a frothy white blouse over a tank top. He noted Cassandra’s combat boots and Aimee’s cowboy boots. They both looked like any of the young women in Austin, but he knew they were not.

Cian found it difficult to speak for a moment. “You’re a dhamphir and she’s a witch.”

“Yeah,” Cassandra answered.

Aimee smiled slightly. “Surprise.”

Cassandra warily returned to her girlfriend’s side, taking on a protective stance. “We’re friends of Jeff. We’re tracking someone and you’re in our way.”

“Do you know who I am?” Cian asked, his voice a bit harsher than he liked.

Cassandra smiled widely. “Oh, yeah. Cian Lynch, Master Vampire of Austin, Texas.” Cassandra paused, then leaned toward him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Howya doing, Dad?”

* * *

Sweat poured down Pete's face as he trod carefully through the graveyard in the direction of Sergio's truck. The muscles in his back and arms screamed in pain, but he ignored the discomfort. He was absolutely sure that what he was doing was the right thing. Restoring Amaliya to life was all that mattered. His aching joints and sore muscles would have to endure until the task was done.

He passed Ethan huddled over one of the graves they had uncovered sorting through the remains in the rotting coffin. Pete assumed the hunter was looking for bits of The Summoner again. It disturbed Pete to unearth the old bodies, but most were nothing more than bones. So far they hadn't found what Ethan was searching for. Pete wasn't sure how Ethan could tell the difference between a human dead body and that of a vampire, but he supposed there were some sort of telltale signs.

Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, he exhaled with frustration. The night was oppressively warm and the darkest black he had ever seen. A thick cloud cover obscured the cold light of the stars and he wished they had brought more lights with them.

Innocente stared past him toward the graveyard when he approached the truck. He had expected to find her napping, but her eyes were alert and her posture tense.

“Need to grab some water,” he said, stopping before her.

“Do you ever feel like you're doing the right thing, but that it will not end well?” Innocente asked.

“All the time,” Pete admitted. Opening the back door, he leaned and opened the cooler. He scrounged around in the frigid water created by the melting ice and jerked out a water bottle. “That's why they gave me Prozac for a while.”