Pretty When She Destroys (11 page)

The three people in the living room were motionless.

“Maybe it’s a dog,” Samantha said, her voice cracking.

Alexia finally looked up, the lenses on her glasses catching the light from the TV. “Right. Totally.”

Benchley let out a nervous laugh. “There’s no way he knows about you.”

A second later there was a loud whoosh and a sound unlike any other Samantha had ever heard filled the house. She clapped her hands over her ears as Beatrice screeched, tore across the back of the sofa, and vanished down the hall. The noise, a cross between rushing water and boulders falling, was deafening.

“What’s that?” Samantha cried out.

“What?” Benchley asked. He whipped about, looking frightened as the bag of chips fell from his hands.

“That sound!” Samantha screamed over the din.

Alexia and Benchley stared at her in fear.

“I don’t hear anything,” Alexia finally said.

“Fuck me! How can’t you hear that?”

“You’re a supernatural,” Benchley said, his voice nearly drowned out by the racket outside. “We’re not.”

With a sudden surge of anger, Samantha launched herself off the couch and stormed over to where her purse sat on the kitchen table. She jerked her pink Glock out of its hidden holster inside her Betsey Johnson bag and stalked toward the front windows. “Benchley, Alexia, get down. Don’t move.”

Benchley slid off the couch and crawled to his sister’s side. Alexia dug around in a bag she had brought in with her.

The weight of the gun in her hand steadied Samantha’s nerves as all the years of lessons at the firing range kicked in. Samantha took several deep breaths, then, careful to keep out of view, she looked out the front window.

Two dark figures stood in the shadows of the pecan trees that bordered the property line between Samantha’s small house and the neighbor’s two-story. Dark waves of purplish magic flowed out of one of the figures and crashed against the ward. The magical bubble was holding against the torrent of dark magic, but the surface was rippling under the assault. The taller form’s eyes were glowing red fire.

“Okay, I got someone hitting the ward with purple magic. Black witch, right?” Samantha asked.

“Yeah, totally,” Alexia answered, laying a cross, a dagger, and some spell bags on the floor next to her.

“Second one has red eyes. Vampire?”

“Or demon,” Benchley said, shaking his head. “I hate demons.”

“Are they eyes like fire, or just glowing red?” Alexia asked.

“Fire.”

“Demon,” Alexia and Benchley said at the same time.

“Shit.” Samantha licked her lips. “Can they get through the ward?”

“No one can get in that means you ill will. That’s how the ward works,” Alexia explained. She crawled over to the front window and set a small camera on the sill, before going back to her computer. “Benchley, put these on the back window and side windows.”

Benchley vanished into the house with the cameras.

Samantha watched as the purple energy crackled over the ward. It was shot through with arcs of energy that looked like lightning. The dark magic hungrily lapped over the surface, seeking a way in. “Does it hold against bullets?”

“I...think so.” Alexia was busy at her laptop. “I’m not sure.”

“Can I shoot them through it?”

Alexia shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Find out!”

“Cameras are up,” Benchley said, huffing back into the living room. He grabbed a small .22 from the bag and stuffed some spells into his pockets.

“I got the feed.” Alexia looked up at the television where the views around the house were projected. “Two in the back trying to get through there.”

Samantha crouched and stared at the screen. The cameras did not reveal the magic that was pummeling the ward or the ward itself. “Call Aimee and find out what the ward will and won’t do.”

Searching his pockets for his phone, Benchley gave her a curt nod.

Biting her lip, she tried to sort out what she could do. The sound of the black magic hitting the barrier was making her head hurt and it was difficult to concentrate through the pain. It amazed her that Benchley and Alexia couldn’t hear or see what she was witnessing. Crawling forward, she pushed Alexia away from the laptop and pulled up the presentation they’d been giving her. Scrolling through the pictures, Samantha searched for any clue as to how her magic could help them.

“How did the phasmagus call ghosts?” Samantha asked Alexia.

“He carried dirt from a graveyard and bits of bone,” Alexia replied.

“Doesn’t help. I’m not going to go dig up Mr. Kibbles. I’d probably only get kitty ghosts.” She saw the blank looks and quickly explained. “My other cat
that passed away. I buried him in the yard.”

“He used corpses as a focus to reach the dead,” Benchley explained. “You just need something that will help you contact the spirits. Like a Ouija board or something.”

“Hello! Good Baptist here!” Samantha sat back on her heels, her gun still clutched in her hand.

Benchley’s thick fingers were trembling as he held his phone to his ear. “No answer. Trying Cass.”

Samantha returned to the window and peered out. The assault was growing in intensity. Now there were two more figures joining the first in hurling dark magic at the ward. Beyond them the neighborhood was peaceful and quiet.

At last, Samantha realized what she needed. “Amaliya.”

Chapter 8

Amaliya clutched Cian’s hand as they strode along the busy sidewalks of downtown Austin. The early evening breeze was heavy with moisture and the threat of late summer storms. The many swanky stores, upscale restaurants, and towering buildings holding luxury apartments were a far cry from the older buildings, dives, and bars that had once inhabited much of this area Austin. The city was continuing its transformation and Amaliya missed the old version. She had fit in better with the Austin she had originally fallen in love with.

Most of the people rushing past her were dressed in very expensive clothes, perfectly coiffed, and reeked of money. The two vampires garnered a few curious looks, but Amaliya ignored the people staring at them openly. Cian’s chestnut brown hair was long and layered around his face that sported a scruffy goatee. His lean form was in dark jeans, a black shirt with red edging on the collar, and black cowboy boots. Amaliya was in a short black dress with spaghetti straps and a sweetheart neckline. The red soled platform high heels on her feet were the most expensive pair she’d ever owned. Cian had purchased the Louboutins because the spikes that studded the black leather reminded him of her. She had to admit they looked awesome even if they made her taller than Cian. It was just another sign of how much he adored her.

“Be careful,” Cian said, warning her of a crack in the sidewalk.

Pressing closer to him, she felt the coolness of his body through his shirt. “Catch me if I fall?”

“Always.” He flashed a grin and kissed her cheek.

Amaliya’s long black hair flowed unfettered to her waist, garnering a few admiring looks. She’d considered chopping it off, but it had always been a sort of security blanket throughout her life. One tilt of her head, and it formed a shield between her and the world. It was also really good at hiding her face when she was severely pissed off and wanted to rip someone’s head off. It had saved her on more than one occasion when it came to her difficult family.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I thought we’d wander a bit before we meet Baptiste at the bookstore later,” Cian answered.

“I’m still hungry.”

“We’ll take care of t
hat,” he promised.

The taste of blood was still fresh on her tongue and she was ready for another victim. Cian and she had fed on a few college students earlier, but her hunger was not yet sated.
It was more work to find appropriate victims since the vampire couple no longer lived in the high rise apartment Cian owned where victims had been plentiful and easily accessible. Relocating had been necessary, though disruptive. The Summoner would try to find her and reclaim her.

Amaliya didn’t like letting her hunger grow too strong. It made her lose a grip of her huma
nity as the predator inside took over. She felt close to that edge now. All the pretty people in their impeccable clothes and sweet smelling perfume were prey in Amaliya’s eyes. Delicious, succulent prey.

Cian jerked his head to one side, indicating a group of young women giggling as they prowled up the street toward the swankier pubs. Their glittery high heels and short skirts were awkward on their youthful bodies. Amaliya suspected that the group was carrying fake IDs. Cian drew Amaliya across the street, avoiding the oncoming traffic. Moving as a small herd, the four g
irls nervously prattled on, briefly glancing at the two vampires dropping in behind them.

Drawing her hand to his lips, Cian kissed Amaliya’s fingers lightly. His lips were cold, the need for blood growing in him, too. It would be easy to split the girls apart once Cian made his move and lured them away for a quick bite. Already two of the women were sneaking looks at Cian, their heavily made up eyes drinking in his vampire allure.

As they crossed an intersection, Amaliya cast a look over her shoulder at the building that had been her home. It rose above her, filling the sky. The automatic lights inside had flicked on and she could see the balcony where she had often taken a smoke break. She missed the old place, but Cian had been right about relocating for safety reasons. Maybe one day they’d be able to move back.

The explosion that ripped through the apartment shattered the glass windows and plumed into the warm night air. Amaliya gasped, her fingers digging into Cian’s hand. Car alarms and screams rent the air. Black smoke poured out of the inferno filling the loft apartment to slither across the sky. A second blast sent people cowering into doorways and behind cars. Amaliya stood transfixed beside Cian watching their former home engulfed in fire.

The braver souls lifted cellphones as they ventured into the middle of the road, recording the disaster unfolding before them. Sirens sounded in the distance. The flames licked along the top of the roof of the building.

Amaliya registered Cian’s phone ringing a second before he lifted it to his ear. “Yes? I see it. Is the building being evacuated?” His arm snaked around her waist, holding her close to him as he talked.
Stay close
, she heard his voice in her mind.

Though she wasn’t at full strength, Amaliya uncoiled her necromantic power, letting it seep out into the night. It spread out like a net, seeking among the humans watching in awe as the building burned. She didn’t sense any dead in the crowds. If The Summoner had sent dead minions to set a bomb, they were long gone. Then it occurred to her that The Summoner could have used human hands to set the charges.

Cian pocketed his cellphone. “We need to go.”

“What about the others?” Amaliya asked while he guided her down the street, his arm firmly wrapped around her shoulders.

“I want to get us away from here before we worry about the rest of our cabal.”

“I don’t sense any vampires or zombies.”

“That doesn’t discount demons, black witches, or humans, Liya,” Cian said in a short tone. “I want to get you somewhere safe.”

“I can take care of myself,” Amaliya grumbled.

Guiding her through the crowd of people cluttering the sidewalks, Cian shook his head in aggravation. “It’s not about you taking care of yourself, but me protecting the woman I love.”

“Well, as long as you know I can kick your ass...”

With a chuckle, Cian dragged her around a corner. “And if someone was after me?”

“I’d rip their fuckin’ head off,” Amaliya answered.

“So let me worry about you, okay?”

“Fine!”

Amaliya had to admit he had a point. They were both very protective of one another. It was just that for so long she had floundered through life, constantly scrutinized and mocked by others for her perceived failures, but now that she was powerful she wanted some respect. She had to remember that Cian actually did acknowledge her abilities and not lash out at him for other people diminishing her in the past.

Finally, they reached the parking lot where Cian’s new car waited. He had sold all the models he owned earlier and replaced them in an e
ffort to hide from The Summoner. The car beeped as he unlocked it.

“Did you see that?” the parking lot attendant asked from where he sat near the entrance.

“Yeah, we did,” Cian answered.

“Was it a plane?” The older man’s dark face was creased with worry. “Was it terrorists?”

Shaking his head, Cian opened the door for Amaliya. “I don’t think so. Maybe a gas line or something.”

“I hope so. Hope it’s not getting crazy. It is 2012, you know.”

Amaliya slid into the warm interior of the black sedan and pulled her seatbelt on as Cian took his place beside her. The doors shut with a thud.

“Where are we going, Cian?”

“To Jeff’s store,” the vampire answered. He quickly pulled out of the parking spot, zoomed in front of several cars trying to get out of the lot, and turned out onto the road.

Twisting about in her seat, Amaliya could see their old home still burning. The fire appeared to have skipped to other floors and was consuming the top of the building. She hated to think of the humans affected by the attack on the home she had shared with Cian.

“Do you think The Summoner still thinks we lived there?”

“Possibly. Or it could be a warning shot.”

“What do you mean?”

“A clear signal that The Summoner is coming for us. Even if Etzli and The Summoner know we’re not living there anymore, what better way to let us know we’re being targeted?”

“Do they want us to run away?”

Cian lightly shrugged. “Or they could be trying to get us to go attack them.”

“Or it’s a distraction,” Amaliya suggested.

“To distract us from what?” Cian’s brow frowned at the thought. He maneuvered his car swiftly through traffic, scooting around cars with a supernatural agility that was a little exhilarating.

Amaliya.

Samantha’s voice filled her mind, afraid and desperate. Fumbling with her phone, Amaliya’s hands began to shake.

“Liya?”

“They’re after Samantha!” Amaliya’s quivering fingers managed to activate her screen just as the phone rang in her hands and flashed an image of Samantha flipping her off on the surface. “Sam!”

“They’re trying to get through the ward!” Samantha’s voice exclaimed. “I need you to get here right away!”

“Cian, how far away are we from Sam’s?”

“Fifteen minutes, or more with traffic,” he answered in a tense voice.

“Amaliya, can you do that trick you did in the graveyard?” Samantha sounded scared and impatient.

It took a second for Amaliya to realize what Samantha was asking her to do. “When I dragged you through the ground?”

“Yeah, but come here instead?”

Amaliya searched her memory of that night. “I think I need the dead on either side to work.” It hurt to think of Samantha crouching next to the dead body of Amaliya’s grandmother when Amaliya accidently pulled the blonde to her side using her death magic.

“Think a dead cat will work?”

Amaliya almost laughed.

“I buried my cat in my backyard,” Samantha explained.

“Are we near a cemetery, Cian?” Amaliya asked, craning her neck to peer out the window.

“The Texas State Cemetery,” Cian replied. He turned the wheel sharply, racing up a one way street, expertly avoiding all oncoming traffic, before taking a hairpin curve that placed them closer to the graveyard.

“Okay, I got the dead on this side, Samantha. Get ready.” They were within a block of the entrance to the Texas State Cemetery. Amaliya could easily scale the fence. “Pull over, Cian!”

Cian obeyed immediately. “Be careful, Amaliya!”

“Go to Samantha’s! I’ll meet you there!”

Amaliya scrambled out of the car and sprinted to the fence. The street was briefly clear of traffic, so she jumped it, landing hard on the other side. She swore as her heels sank into the dirt.

“Amaliya, where are you? You need to come here fast!” Samantha shouted into the phone.

“Little bitch, I need you to call to me when you’re near the corpse.” Amaliya felt her power sinking into the ground, calling the dead. The dead answered, the necromantic power filling her completely and vanquishing her hunger. Death sated her just as much as blood.

“Fuck! I have to go outside. Benchley, cover me!” Samantha ordered on the other end.

Amaliya could hear the little blonde swearing, a door opening, and a terrifying sound that reminded her of Godzilla dry humping the Empire State building.

“Okay, I’m about to it. Be ready, bitch-face.”

“Just do what we did that night. Call to me.”

Amaliya crouched down, buried her fingers in the earth, and concentrated on the tendrils of her power reaching out into the night. As always, in her mind she saw them as black glittery ribbons adorned with stars. Within seconds they intertwined with the wispy white mist of Samantha’s magic. Weaving into a thick web, the combined energies grew stronger. Amaliya felt it racing into her, filling her completely.

Come to me, Amaliya
, Samantha’s voice said in her head, each word throbbing with power.

The earth opened up and dragged Amaliya down.