Pretty When She Kills (30 page)

Cassandra hovered over them, watching fretfully. Amaliya felt bad for her. She knew how she’d felt when she had witnessed Cian in a helpless state. Alexia patted the witch's cheeks, trying to rouse her.

“Wake up, babe,” Cass called out not too loudly.

Cian rose to his feet and headed toward the door. “We need to go, Cassandra.”

“I got her,” Alexia assured Cassandra. “I will take care of her.” The bag next to her was filled with protein bars, water, and weapons. Aimee set a shotgun at her side. “I’ve got blessed bullets.”

“I will keep them covered,” Benchley promised from his location near the door.

Cassandra nodded mutely, then scooted past Cian to fall to her knees beside Aimee. Stroking her girlfriend's hair, she leaned over to kiss her on the lips. “I'll be back, Aims.”

Amaliya looked away, feeling like she was intruding on the moment. She saw Cian also direct his attention elsewhere.

“She reminds me of you,” Amaliya confessed.

“Me too.” Cian gave her a slight smile.

Cassandra pushed past them. “Let's go.” Blades of silver glittered in her hands.

They were halfway across the street when Eduardo sniffed loudly, obviously catching a scent. Falling to his hands, he loped across the street reminding Amaliya of a dog. They tailed the coyote to the hotel. The old building held many bad memories for Amaliya, but she trusted Eduardo not to place them in a bad situation.

“Fresh kill,” Eduardo said around the many sharp teeth in his mouth as he looked back at them.

They found the body shoved into the bushes. It was a tall muscular man clad in a long duster. His head was nearly twisted off his body.

Cassandra drew in a sharp breath through her teeth. “Ethan,” she said.

Amaliya observed the truck for a second, then averted her gaze. Silver crosses imbedded into the rims and the doors pulsed in the darkness, hurting her eyes. “He almost made it.”

“This is what happens when you play with the wrong people,” Cass decided.

“We need to get to the graveyard,” Amaliya said urgently. The thought of her cousin or her grandmother suffering such a fate made her sick.

“Agreed.” Cian’s hand brushed hers lightly, his eyes locking with hers. “But we need to be cautious.”

Amaliya couldn't help but look at the broken body of Ethan Logan one last time. “I can't make any promises if they’ve hurt my family.”

Cian nodded in understanding.

The four of them broke into a run.

* * *

Samantha found it hard to walk through the thick woods behind the cemetery. The dry grass hid gnarled roots, deep dips in the forest floor, and broken branches. Without a flashlight or moonlight to brighten her path, she had to feel her way through the darkness.

Even though she was determined to be a bad ass vampire-kicking chick, tears were streaming down her face. She knew that Innocente was most likely dead, but she couldn't just let the older woman die alone if she was gravely injured.

Scratches covered her hands and face. She was also limping, since a root had sent her tumbling earlier. It was increasingly difficult to see the deeper into the woods she wandered. She wasn't even certain if she was headed in the right direction anymore.

A branch snapped against her shin and she strangled a cry in her throat. She didn’t want any of the dangerous creatures in the graveyard to hear her. Whimpering, she leaned against a tree.

If only she could see...

Samantha widened her eyes.

Wasn’t she a phasmagnus? Maybe someone could guide her. Mentally dropping her defenses, she gingerly searched for a ghost with her newfound powers. In her mind, she saw it like a controlled wave, weaving in and out around the tree trunks seeking out any spectral remains.

“Here I am,” a voice said.

The gentle touch of a hand rested on her shoulder. Samantha shot a frightened look over her shoulder. To her relief a tall, kindly-looking man with blond hair and blue eyes was gazing at her. He seemed untouched by the night, standing out sharply against the darkness.

“I'm trying to find Innocente,” she told him.

“I'll show you where she is,” the ghost answered.

Timidly, Samantha held out her hand to him. The ghost smiled, taking it gently in his own. Walking ahead of her, his ghostly form illuminated her path.

Chapter 25

Jeff and Pete dragged Sergio through the high grass, grunting and panting with exertion. The big man was still out cold and was a dead weight. Jeff's arms felt like they were about to pop out of their sockets and the muscles in his thighs burned. Keeping his eyes on the swaying zombies, he hoped that Samantha had found Innocente and was able to help her.

“Who are you?” Pete asked in a hushed voice.

“A friend of Amaliya. My name is Jeff.”

“Where's Ethan?”

“He ran off. Now, we better keep quiet.” Jeff jerked his head toward the sound of the two vampire women arguing loudly.

“Lover's spat,” Pete decided.

Jeff shushed him again.

It did sound like a lover's argument. Both of the vampires were shouting at each other. Rachon’s voice was both pleading and furious; Bianca's was mocking, yet angry.

“I did everything you asked! I was even going to avenge your death!” Rachon cried out.

“Yet you allowed your pathetic minion to mock me!”

The men reached the truck and Pete tugged the back door of the cab open. Together, they pulled and shoved Sergio's limp mass into the backseat. When they finally settled the man onto the seat, they shut the door, then scurried around to the other side of the truck to hide.

“Where are the keys?” Jeff asked.

“Ethan had them,” Pete answered.

Jeff groaned and leaned his head against the side of the pickup. “Great, just great.”

Peeking around the front of the truck, Pete whispered, “The zombies still ain't moving. That's good, right?”

“It's because The Summoner is too busy being angry at Rachon to send them after us. Or maybe he just doesn't care,” Jeff answered.

“I thought that bastard was dead.” Pete's brow furrowed.

Jeff shrugged. “He was. Is. Something. I'm pretty sure that the pretty girl out there is him. He must have somehow transferred to her body.”

“Gimme your gun,” Pete abruptly ordered.

“What?”

“Does it have bullets that can kill a vampire?”

“If you hit it in the heart,” Jeff admitted.

“Then give it to me. I'll kill that son of a bitch so he can't ever hurt Amaliya again.” Pete held out his hand, waiting.

“We can't attack them. If we draw attention to ourselves, we won't be able to fight off all those zombies. Do you understand?”

“I'm a fuckin' great shot. I can take out The Summoner before she knows, or he knows, what hits her...uh...him.” Pete insistently held out his hand.

“Rachon will probably come after us then.” Jeff felt sick to his stomach at the thought. They were damned either way.

“You got other weapons?”

“Yeah.”

“Then after I shoot The Summoner, you best be ready to help me take out the other one. At least we won't have to deal with those damn zombies once the bastard is down, right?”

Jeff nodded.

“So give me the damn gun.” Pete's blue eyes were determined and merciless.

Not sure if he was doing the right thing, Jeff handed over his weapon.

Pete gave him a solemn nod. “Now back into the graveyard so I can get a good shot. You with me?”

Rubbing his aching knee, Jeff nodded in the affirmative. He hadn't come this far to give up so easily. At least Sergio was safely tucked away and Sam was far away from the confrontation. The sick feeling in his gut made him want to puke, but he knew that he couldn't allow The Summoner to live.

“Let's go,” Pete said.

Together, they ducked down and headed back in the direction of the quarreling vampires.

* * *

To Amaliya's surprise, Eduardo and Cassandra were just as swift as she and Cian when they sprinted across the overgrown field toward the graveyard. The world was a blur around her, but she could see the dhamphir and coyote out of her peripheral vision keeping pace. Cian led their pack of supernaturals, his hair rippling in the wind.

Raised voices carried on the wind.  The risen dead called out to Amaliya, her necromancy burning in her veins, crying for release. As they closed in on the graveyard, Amaliya saw the clusters of undead among the fallen headstones. They were wizened and barely more than skeletons. A few stronger ones, more fully-formed, were near the center of the pack near the necromancer who had raised them. Amaliya could feel Bianca's power woven among the zombies, holding them up, keeping them alive.

The scents of the grave, fresh blood, and earth filled her nostrils as they leaped over the low lying wrought-iron fence and landed inside the graveyard where Amaliya had defeated The Summoner. A stab of fear and a thrill of excitement tangled together inside of her. She had struck down her creator and embraced her power in this very place. Now she would face Rachon and her minions, and she would not allow them to defeat her.

Cian moved in front of her, casting away the zombies that blocked his path. They shattered against headstones and fell to pieces as they tumbled away. The sight upset Amaliya, but she said nothing. The angry voices were just ahead, beyond the dead.

“They haven't all risen,” she whispered to Cassandra.

“The zombies?” Cassandra asked warily.

Amaliya nodded.

Behind Cassandra an enormous beast that was part coyote and part man prowled in their wake. Eduardo flashed his fangs. Amaliya ignored him. Slicing open her wrists with her nails, she let her cold blood drop onto the graves while she walked.

“I should have no mercy on you!”

“I did all you asked!”

Cian thrust aside a few more zombies and the two arguing vampires came into view. Rachon was on her knees before Bianca. The sight startled Amaliya. She had not expected this at all. Cian's darting look in Amaliya’s direction said he was surprised as well.

Bianca's glowing white eyes flicked in their direction. Rachon shot to her feet and stumbled back a few steps to the side of the rapidly-dissolving body of a massive vampire.

“We have company, Rachon,” Bianca said. “Hello, Cian.”

“Bianca...” Cian said warily. “We're here to rescue you and stop Rachon...” His voice trailed off as Rachon vehemently shook her head at him.

Amaliya stepped around Cian to gaze at the young woman in her blood-splattered dress. Bianca appeared exactly how Amaliya had viewed her in her dream: glowing white, beautiful, stained in blood.

The power of the girl before her was chilling in its intensity. Amaliya felt it slithering over her, touching her, exploring the edges of Amaliya's own abilities.  The silken touch of the dark necromancy elicited a shudder of arousal as it caressed her body. Amaliya gasped.

Disregarding Rachon, Bianca gazed at the interlopers thoughtfully.

“What is going on?” Cassandra dared to ask.

“Well, Rachon’s plan was to collect the ingredients for a ritual that would have rendered Amaliya human so she could kill her to avenge The Summoner's death,” Bianca said.

Her voice was slightly different from her dream, Amaliya realized.

“Is that possible?” Cian asked warily.

Bianca nodded once. “Yes.”

“But you stopped her?” Cian tilted his head, scrutinizing the girl.

“Yes.”

Amaliya trembled in the wash of Bianca's necromantic power. It wrapped her in great dark, icy waves. It lapped against her, seeking a way in, trying to overcome her defenses. A hollow ache opened up within Amaliya, the power calling to her. She wanted to let it in, drown in its power, let it consume her. Gritting her teeth, she fought it.

“Why?” Cian took a step forward, but Amaliya gripped his arm and yanked him back.

“Don't go near her,” Amaliya hissed.

Cassandra stood at the ready, blades glittering while Eduardo hunched at her side, fangs bared. His powerful body was covered in a thick orange pelt shot through with black fur.

Bianca's perfectly-shaped pink lips smiled slightly. “Amaliya...”

The mere sound of her voice caused Amaliya to quiver. The power of the necromancer licked at her, arousing her even more, calling to her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Amaliya could see Rachon edging away. Eduardo growled at the female vampire, lowering his body as he prepared to spring.

“I wouldn't move if I were you,” Cassandra warned Rachon.

Amaliya struggled to stand, her body now visibly quaking. Bianca smirked.

Cian shifted on his feet, his hand extending to steady Amaliya. She ducked away from him, inadvertently moving herself closer to Bianca. “Don't touch me!”

The dark power of the girl battered Amaliya's defenses and it took all her willpower to shut the other necromancer out. Her wrists still bleeding, Amaliya turned to face Bianca.

“Why does a girl from East Texas speak in an English accent?” she demanded.

Bianca’s smile became almost serpentine. “You tell me.”

“Where’s my grandmother and my cousin?” Amaliya demanded.

The lithe girl in the stained white dress swayed on her feet, smiling. “Tell me, Amaliya.”

“Where is my family?” Amaliya shouted at Bianca.

Bianca licked her lips. “Dead.”

With a scream of anger, Amaliya hurled herself at the young woman. She instantly realized it was a mistake. Bianca caught her, a triumphant smile on her face. “Always making mistakes. Always self-destructing. Tell me, Amaliya, what does death taste like?” Bianca crushed her lips against Amaliya's.

Instantly, Amaliya was flooded with the darkest of magicks. It filled her up and battered against her own power. It tried to overwhelm her mind and drag her into the abyss. Her body sang with need: the need for blood, the need for death, and the need for sex. Teetering on the edge of madness, hunger, and pleasure, Amaliya clutched Bianca to her. Their kiss was savage, full of hate, desire, and nameless darkest needs.

Amaliya wanted to drown in Bianca's power and rise again as her darkest bride.