Pretty When She Dies (26 page)

“When did she show up?”

“Wednesday.”

“And it's Friday morning. Things changed that fast?”

“The first night, Cian was already being weird. Last night...” She got tears in her eyes. “He went to bed without kissing me goodnight. Plus, he was mad at me. That never happens. Ever.”

Jeff shoved the plastic lid into place and heard it pop. Standing up, he scratched his side, then sighed. “Okay. So. Cian is changing. Are you sure he's just not, you know...um....doing it...with this new vamp and you're jealous?”

“He would not do that! It's worse than that. Seriously, she's making him-” She looked startled, her eyes widening even more. “Oh, God, she's making him dangerous.”

Jeff leaned down and picked up the bin. “Okay. I just needed to make sure. My Dad really adored Cian despite him being a vampire. I don't want to undo what my father established with him.”

As he knew she would, she fell into step behind him, clutching her bag tightly to her, as he walked out the back gate entrance into the alley parking area. His old Range Rover was parked in the handicap spot and she frowned at him.

“You shouldn't park there just because you are the speaker,” she chided him.

“Fake leg,” Cian answered and leaned down to rap on one of his calves. “A vampire tried to pull me apart to punish my father.”

“No shit?”

To his surprise, she leaned over and examined his fake foot. “Wow, it looks real. You can even wear flip flops.”

“You'd be surprised what they do now days,” he answered. He heaved the box into the back seat and turned to her. “Look, what you are telling me is extremely serious just on the basis of the possibility The Summoner is here. That is not a creature to be reckoned with.”

“Does it hurt?” she blurted out, still staring at his artificial foot.

“Sometimes it itches,” he said with a grin.

“Wow.”

He touched her shoulder to get her attention. “Listen. I think we need to talk more, but I need to get back to my store. I have a clerk out sick and the other one is off at one. Come by the store at eight. That is when I close the shop and do private consultations. I don't have anything scheduled for tonight.”

“What do you privately consult about?”

“Haunted houses, exorcisms, that sort of thing,” he answered.

“Wow. You're like--”

“Don't say it.”

“-Giles from Buffy.”

He rolled his eyes. “If I had a quarter for every time someone said that.”

She smiled impishly at him. “Okay. I'll be there. I don't want to be in the apartment when her skanky ass wakes up anyway.”

Jeff couldn't help but laugh. “Well, considering everything you have told me, I actually think it will be safer for you not to be there.”

Samantha pouted, nodded her head, and then suddenly said, “Oh! Oh!

You are going to tell me about your Dad and Cian, right?”

“Yeah. I'll tell you all about that and some other stuff. But you have to promise me that you will help me deal with this.”

“Like Buffy?”

He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Yes. Like Buffy.”

“Yay!” She grinned at him as he handed her his card. “I'll be there!

Eight o'clock.”

Jeff watched her as she bounced away, obviously feeling much better than she had earlier. He understood what it was like to be consoled by the thought of actually being able to do something about a dire situation.

Sliding into the Range Rover, he turned it on and listened to the engine try to turnover, then catch after a slight cough. He definitely needed to get the SUV into the shop soon.

He pulled out of the parking spot and turned down the alley toward 29th St. He did feel satisfied with how the lecture went, but the conversation afterwards had him deeply concerned. The pact between Cian and his father had remained intact since the Seventies and he would hate to think that things were changing. The terms had been explicit. No other vampire but Cian would be allowed to live in the city. Cian would kill or turn over any new vampires to the hunters. In exchange, the hunters would leave Cian alone.

Sighing, Jeff donned his sunglasses and turned up the air conditioner.

It was time to grow up and fill his father's shoes. He just hoped he was up to it.

***

Amaliya awoke to utter darkness. Feeling drugged with sleep and needing blood, it took her a moment to process that she was tightly bound. Abruptly claustrophobic and terrified, she began to struggle.

Something slick was pressed up against her face and she was compressed into a small space. She tried to move and realized her hands were taped together and against her chest. Panic began to grip her, but she fought it back and tried to think straight. Managing to squeeze the plastic between her fingers, she began to try to push her nails through the slick material.

“Damn,” she whispered, and tried not to completely lose her mind.

She was terrified, but she had to remember she didn't have to breathe, therefore, she couldn't smother to death.

Her nail poked through the plastic and she wedged her fingers through it. Desperately, she began to tear at the black plastic. Filthy garbage began to leak around her fingers and she cursed loudly.

Losing all patience and losing her battle against panic, she began to throw her body back and forth as hard as she could.

There was a loud cracking noise and then she fell sideways onto her side. She was still bound and her legs were trapped in something that was pinching them hard, but now she was laying on the ground.

Instead of more black plastic and garbage being outside the hole she had torn, now she could see the cement roof of a building. With renewed vigor, she tore at the plastic until she could push her head through and looked around frantically.

She appeared to be in a multi-level parking garage. No cars were around and looking down the sloped floor she saw the area she was in was roped off. Heavy blue tarps were hanging from the ceiling to keep anyone from entering. A sign nearby read “Danger” and she realized the area must be under some sort of renovations.

Sitting with her head poking out of the plastic, she could see her body was tightly restrained in two trash bags with duct tape wound around it. Pissed, she began to tug at the tape around her legs.

“If he wanted me gone, he could have just said so,” she mumbled.

It took awhile, but she finally got the tape off her legs and kicked the bottom bag off her. Taking advantage of her hunger, she used her sharp teeth to gnaw through the tape on her wrists. At last, she stood up, threw the bags away from her and looked around. She had busted her way out of a large plastic trash bin and her duffel bag was still inside under a bag of garbage.

Disgusted beyond belief, she grabbed her stuff and noticed a note pinned to it.

“Fucker,” she hissed. He could have just told her to leave.

She tore the note off, crumbled it up and tossed it in with the other garbage. Feeling like shit, she moved toward the plastic curtains cutting her off from the rest of the parking garage. She pulled back an edge and realized she was in the parking lot for the Riverwalk Mall in San Antonio.

“Man, when you ditch a girl, you ditch a girl, ” she bitched.

Holding her bag in front of her to cover her bloody shirt, she walked along until she found an entrance and slipped inside. Luckily, no one was looking her way as she rushed down a side hall to the women's bathroom. She was sure she looked like shit and she was still caked with blood.

Ignoring the empty mirror, she used the soap dispenser and a wad of paper towels to clean herself off. She worked as fast as she could before anyone could enter. Once clean, she ducked into a stall and switched out her clothes. To her dismay, she realized she was down to just a few clean things now.

Dammit, she had to do laundry. Were vampires supposed to even do laundry?

The door to the bathroom opened and she heard a woman's voice speaking in Spanish. Peeking out, she saw a beautiful young woman standing in front of the mirror checking her makeup as she talked away into a bright pink phone.

The need inside of her drew black and wanting. She needed to feed.

Slipping out of the stall as quietly as possible, she moved toward the woman. As she knew it would, the mirror remained devoid of her reflection and she crept up behind the girl on silent bare feet.

With one last laugh and a kiss into the phone, the girl clicked it shut and leaned forward to touch up her lipstick.

Amaliya moved in to strike, her lips hovering just over the girl's shoulder. By the widening of the girl's eyes, she knew her victim could see her out of her peripheral vision. The fact that her prey could not spot Amaliya in the mirror froze the mortal in fear. It was ridiculously easy for the vampire to spin her around and sink her teeth into her neck. She took four great gulps and then licked the wounds closed. It took all her willpower, but she did not drain the girl dry. She stepped back as the deeply tanned woman raised her hand to her neck, the terror in her eyes keeping her still.

“Forget,” Amaliya whispered once, and pushed her power hard and deep into the young woman.

Her victim staggered backward, then caught herself on the edge of the sink. Slowly, she opened her eyes and put a hand to her forehead.

Amaliya retreated back into the bathroom stall as the pink phone began to ring. She smiled with satisfaction when the girl said, “Babe, I need to eat. I almost fainted. Meet you at Tony Roma's.”

***

Cian awoke knowing that something was wrong. At first, he could not fathom what it was, but as he sat up, he realized he was alone.

“Amaliya,” he said softly, though he knew she would not answer.

She was gone from the chamber.

A flash of hot anger filled him and he hit the controls to open one wall. It rose and he leaped out into his loft to find it strangely empty.

Outside, the sky was nearly completely indigo with just one brush stroke of lavender and pink on the horizon over the hills to the west.

With preternatural speed, he moved through the apartment, searching it in vain.

She was gone.

He was alone.

Even Roberto was missing.

Rubbing his bottom lip, he stood in the center of his living room and felt his anger growing even more violent. Either The Summoner had found a way to violate his haven in the daylight hours or he was betrayed. Only Samantha and Roberto could have taken Amaliya without activating his survival instinct to awaken.

Where was Samantha? He looked over at his answer machine to see there were no messages waiting to be heard. Of course, he had treated her rather badly the night before, so she could be somewhere sulking.

It felt odd not to have her waiting for him, ready to fling her arms around his neck, and shower him with kisses.

Sadly, he realized he was not as concerned about Samantha as he was about Amaliya's whereabouts.

Behind him the door opened and he moved to see down the hall.

Roberto entered carrying a Foley's bag and gave him a small smile.

“Good evening, Master.”

“What did you do with her?”

Roberto didn't even hesitate in his steps as he made his way to the kitchen. “Nothing terrible. I just removed her from your presence to bring her influence to an end.”

“You had no right!” Cian's voice was harsh.

Roberto's eyes barely flicked toward him in recognition of his anger.

He turned with a stiffed back to place a new set of wine glasses on the counter.

“Roberto, you had no right to defy me.”

“My role in your life is to protect you,” Roberto said after a beat. “To keep you from harm. To be your guardian by day and your servant by night. I would hope that somewhere in the midst of those duties, I am also your friend.”

“You are my friend,” Cian admitted, but his emotions were choking him. “You had no right to go against my wishes! What did you do with her? Did you kill her?”

“Of course not. But I would have if I felt that had been necessary.

After careful consideration I decided that her influence merely needed to be removed. She would have left anyway. I just moved her along more quickly.”

Cian hissed through his teeth and flung out one hand. “And why would you do that? Why?”

“Because she is making you weak! She has already brought The Summoner to your city! Do you understand that you are endangering everything we fought for? Everything we created? I can endure Samantha because she is annoying and not a threat, but Amaliya is much more than that. It is not who she is, but what she is. The Summoner's pawn. And despite yourself, my Master, you are already deeply in love with her and what she brings out in you.”

Cian took in his words, understanding them as truth, but not ready to admit it. “Where is she?”

Roberto's hands gripped the edge of the cement counter top and said in a low voice, “Let her be. Let her go. Return to the way your life was.”

“I can't,” Cian said in a low voice. “I can't because it wasn't real. I can see that now. I created this illusion to make myself comfortable. I lied to myself that I could recapture what was lost when The Summoner created me and I slaughtered everyone who ever meant anything to me. I've been lying to myself and worst of all, Samantha.”

“Then let them both go and be who you truly are,” Roberto said in a soft voice.

Cian drew closer to Roberto and his eyes flashed red. “Roberto, you have been at my side nearly one hundred years. If there is anything you should know about me is that I do what I please and what I believe is right.”

“And sometimes you are wrong.”

“Where is she?” Cian smashed his fist down on the counter near Roberto's hands and the counter cracked and the edge crumbled.

Slowly, Roberto drew his hands back and pulled himself up even straighter. “You cannot set right what is already wrong. Let her go.

Remember that you have won your own battle with The Summoner and let her do the same.”

“Roberto, I will not ask you again. Where is she?” Cian looked at his old friend with despair and frustration. He could not believe that his own servant would defy him, but yet again, for years, it had only been him and Roberto, struggling to carve out a life for themselves. They had been complimentary partners in crime for almost a century, but it was now obvious that they were at a crossroads.