Pretty When She Dies (Pretty When She Dies #1)

Pretty When She Dies (Pretty When She Dies #1) Page 47

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.

Chapter Twenty