Pretty When She Kills (Pretty When She Dies #2)

Pretty When She Kills (Pretty When She Dies #2) Page 29

Realizing her distress, Jeff moved to enfold her in his arms. “It’s okay, Samantha. It’s okay. Now that we know what you are, we can deal with this better. I promise.”

Samantha leaned against him, staring at the spot where Cassidy had disappeared. The thump of feet against the concrete drew her attention. Joggers were once more running along the footbridge. The spell was over.

“Everything okay?” a runner asked as he ran toward them. His tan skin was covered in sweat and he was rippling with lean muscle.

Dimly, Samantha wondered if he was a ghost, too.

“Yeah. We had a little tumble. All good now,” Jeff answered quickly.

The jogger nodded and kept going.

“Samantha,” Jeff whispered. “We need to get up and go now. Okay?”

“I’m a phasmagnus,” Samantha answered, the word sounding odd coming from her lips.

“I know, honey.” He helped her to her feet and gathered his stuff, shoving it into his bag.

Standing in the center of the footbridge, Samantha stared at the towering buildings of downtown Austin looming over the glittering lake. Colorful kayaks and canoes were gliding over the water. Runners and walkers dotted the winding pathway as far as her eyes could see and cars glinted in the sunlight as they passed over the Lamar Boulevard Bridge in the distance. It all looked so normal.

“I’m not normal anymore,” Samantha said at last when Jeff took her hand. “I don’t belong to that world anymore.”

Jeff surveyed the scene she was gazing at and sighed. “Neither one of us does. Not now.”

Looking at him, Samantha said, “I’m afraid.” Her lips felt numb and her throat was tight.

“I know. So am I,” Jeff confessed. “But I am here for you. And this power can help us, Samantha. It can.”

Nodding, she let him guide her back the way they had come. Her fingers clutched his tightly and she was still shivering. “Jeff?”

“Yeah, Sam?”

“Take me home.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding.

“And when we get there, I want you to go to bed with me,” she said, boldly meeting his eyes.

He lifted an eyebrow slowly. “You sure?”

Samantha nodded vehemently. “Oh, yeah. I’m not wasting any more of my life being afraid of stupid shit.”

With a slight smile, Jeff said, “Okay.”

Lifting her chin, Samantha gripped his hand with both of hers. “Time to move on and then kick some monster ass.”

Laughing, Jeff walked with her out from beneath the shadows of the bridge and into the bright Texas sunlight.

Chapter 16

Innocente was exhausted. Every cell in her body seemed to be complaining as she scooted out of bed. Joints protesting, she slid her feet into her slippers and reached for her pale blue housecoat with daisies decorating it. After the ghostly visitation and her call to Amaliya she had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep. It had been a relief not to have any nightmares, but now her brain felt muddled. Shrugging on her housecoat over her pajamas and snapping the top four buttons together, she peered into the mirror above her vanity. She winced at the sign of her pale pallor and the bags under her hazel eyes. Running her hands through her wavy salt and pepper hair, she sighed. The image in the mirror never matched the internal one she had of herself at a much younger age, but she was usually pleased with the lack of wrinkles or lines in her face. Today she looked every minute of her age and she hated it.

Opening up her container of face cream, she rubbed it gently into her cheeks, forehead, and chin hoping it would help perk up her complexion. She did not want Sergio worrying about her. The smell of chorizo and coffee wafted under the door into her room making her stomach rumble. She screwed the lid back onto the pink jar and glanced one more time into the mirror. Her cheeks were a little rosier from her rubbing them and her eyes were now more alert and looking more gold than hazel.

Innocente opened the door and trudged down the dimly-lit hallway. From the quiet coming from the other rooms in the house it was clear that the kids were already outside playing. Innocente hated that they all had missed church, but it had been a rough night; she was sure God would understand.

She wished she could call Amaliya and check on her, but knew that her granddaughter was already asleep. It bothered her greatly that Amaliya was a vampire. It broke her heart into a million pieces, yet she never allowed her granddaughter to see her inner turmoil. Amaliya may now live in darkness, but Innocente fervently believed in her inherent goodness. It had hurt to see her granddaughter growing up in a broken home and poisonous environment. Life had been cruel to Amaliya, yet now she appeared to be happy with Cian. Innocente wondered, however, what life would have been like for Amaliya if Samuel Vezorak had been a better man. She hoped Cian never hurt Amaliya like so many of the men in her life had in the past.

Entering the kitchen, it took Innocente a few moments to take in the scene. Two men sat at the table eating breakfast tacos as Cynthia and Sergio were serving themselves. The sight of one of the men made Innocente’s blood boil with anger. Uttering “Dios mio,” Innocente took a step forward.

“You!”

Both men started in their chairs, looking at her in surprise.

“How dare you come into my house after what you did!” Innocente shouted. Losing her temper, she descended on the table and started smacking the man who had hurt her granddaughter.

“Hey! Stop!” Pete cried out as she slapped at him.

“Grandmama!” Sergio immediately tried to stop her, pushing his big body between her and Pete.

Innocente would have none of it and slapped him, too.

“Innocente, please, stop!” Cynthia cried out, grabbing at her hand. “The kids might come in. Calm down!”

“What did I do?” Pete said, trying to shield himself as Innocente managed to get a few whacks past Sergio.

His words made her stop as she realized she couldn’t reveal why she was angry at him. Everyone in the kitchen was staring at her in shock and she couldn’t explain herself. The stranger looked amused by the whole episode while Pete looked more than a little hurt.

“I can’t talk about it,” Innocente finally said.

“Well, something pissed you off.” Sergio kept between her and Pete.

Innocente sniffed and walked over to the stove to serve herself breakfast. She wanted to go hit Pete again, but it wouldn’t do any good. She really couldn’t explain why she was angry at Pete in front of the gathered company.

“Whatever I did, I’m sorry,” Pete said, sounding properly meek.

“Grandmama, Pete and his friend here, Ethan, dropped by to say hello and you beating on Pete really isn’t the way to go about greeting a friend.”

Innocente turned and pinned Sergio with her fiercest look. He looked away, cowed, but Cynthia was immune to her scathing look.

“Do you want them to leave?” Cynthia asked pointedly. “Because you’re obviously not in a good way right now.”

“We can’t leave,” Pete protested. “We have something really important to discuss with y’all.”

Ethan nodded solemnly, his gaze unwavering as he regarded Innocente. She met his gaze curiously. He didn’t flinch, but slightly smiled.

Her anger was still smoldering, but Innocente was at a loss as to how to explain her outburst or deal with the unexpected company. She was tempted to grab a taco and retreat to her bedroom until they left. The feeling of surliness was not leaving her system and her restless night wasn’t helping. If only she could pick up the phone and talk to Amaliya, but that wasn’t even an option anymore.

“If my grandmother isn’t up for company, maybe you could come by some other time, or call,” Sergio suggested.

“No, this is really important,” Pete insisted.

Ethan finished eating his taco as Innocente set a serving on a plate and stared at it.

“What is it about?” Innocente asked.

Pete hesitated, then said, “Amaliya.”

“She’s dead,” Sergio said quickly and nervously.

Innocente caught the exchange of looks between Pete and Ethan. Curiosity gripped her and she said, “What about Amaliya?”

Pete cleared his throat and again looked to Ethan for guidance.

“We know she’s not dead and buried,” Ethan said at last. “That why we’re here.”

“No, you got that wrong. She is dead. She was murdered,” Sergio said in a tumble of words.

“She was dead. And buried. But she got out, didn’t she?” Ethan asked. He pushed back his plate and settled back in his chair.

Cynthia swept Anna Belle into her arms before looking out the window to check on her kids, all the while backing up to where Sergio kept the revolver tucked into a cranny behind the refrigerator. Innocente could see the fear in her daughter-in-law’s eyes. Innocente wasn’t afraid, but she was very curious.

“Why would you say that?” Innocente asked, a challenge in her voice.

Pete shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable. “I saw her Easter night. After she was supposed to be dead.”

“You puto! You do remember!” Innocente exclaimed.