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

Pretty When She Kills (Pretty When She Dies #2) Page 40

“He’s a dick, but he was really seriously scared. And mad. And lost. I think he got stuck here because something went wrong that night. He probably wants to move on. Though I totally think he’s going to the burning place.”

“If it exists.”

Samantha rolled her eyes. “So we just drive out there and go, ‘Oh, hi! Just passing through?’ and act like nothing is up?”

“I think we should totally go out there and say the truth, but avoid talking about Roberto or bringing back The Summoner. Talk about the whole bringing Amaliya back to mortal status thing.”

“She’d never do that, you know,” Samantha said confidently. “She likes being a vampire.”

“We can’t - and shouldn’t - speak for her though. So we’ll just go out there and be all friendly. Think you can do that?”

Samantha flashed her widest, most sarcastic grin.

“Well, that’s not comforting.”

“Because you’re wrong,” Samantha answered. “If we go out there after Roberto warned us, we’re as stupid as people in horror movies.”

Jeff let out an explosive breath, then his shoulders sagged. “Fine. So what do we do?”

“I think we should park the car and sneak around. Sneaking seriously appeals to me. I don’t want to just pop up and get my ass shot or something. I think we should do the sneaking thing, like Buffy.”

Jeff chuckled. “The Buffy approach, huh?”

“Sneaking is totally a good idea and you know it.” Samantha shifted the gears and the Jeep rolled forward before she looped it around.

“Okay, we’ll sneak around. I’ll trust you on this.”

“Good, because I’m not a total ditz,” Samantha assured him.

Jeff touched her cheek affectionately. “I’ve never thought that.”

Samantha parked the Jeep behind the gas station, lodging it between the building and a dense thicket of overgrown bushes and grass. Popping out of the driver’s side, she checked to make sure she had the ammunition she had brought along tucked into one pocket. Her hands had stopped shaking now that she had decided how to deal with the situation. Jeff rummaged around under his seat before yanking out a small bag. Opening it, he pulled out two sheathed daggers. He handed Samantha one, then strapped the other onto his belt.

“Silver?” Samantha asked.

“Yep. Aim for eyes and throats...if it comes to that.” Jeff shut his door and Samantha locked the vehicle.

“Ready to go kick some ass...if we have to?” Samantha tried to put on her best tough girl pose.

Jeff leaned over and kissed her on the lips. “Be careful. You’re not Buffy.”

Rubbing her fingertips lightly across his chin, she said, “Good, because then I’d be totally doing my Giles.”

Hand in hand, they headed toward the cemetery behind the old farm house.

Rachon was annoyed. Prosper’s pop star crush was singing about the joys of S & M, the music blasting out of the car speakers as his Cadillac sailed along the highway. No matter how many times Rachon told him to turn down the noise, it seemed to creep steadily back up. Sitting in the back seat, she glowered at the back of his bald head. He ignored her, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

They had spent the day in a hotel in San Marcos, south of Austin, watched over by their human minions while they slept. Rachon hated being out of her state and had slept clutching a dagger. She had kept Bianca at her side, her other hand holding the girl’s wrist. She was paranoid, but with good reason. She was so close to fulfilling her duty to The Summoner she couldn’t allow any possibility of failure to creep into her dealings.

Upon awakening, the vampires had feasted on a few students from the nearby university. Prosper had left their human minions behind to clean up the mess. The vampires had overindulged in anticipation of the night’s events. Rachon still felt her body transforming the blood she had consumed into power and life.

Rachon was in high spirits, but that didn’t mean her temper was in check. She was anxious to deal with the situation and move on to her greater plans. Lounging comfortably in the backseat of the Cadillac, she busily texted on her phone.

Next to her, Bianca stared out the car window at dark terrain. As always, she was silent, her huge blue eyes vacant. Rachon lifted one hand and gently stroked the silky white-blond hair.

“We’re almost there, pretty girl,” Rachon said over the pounding music.

Bianca didn’t blink, didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge her in the slightest.

Gently, Rachon placed her dark fingers under the white chin of the delicate face and turned it toward her. Bianca’s lovely face was devoid of thought or emotion. “When we get there, you must do what I say, my little darling. Can you do that?”

The blue eyes shifted toward her slightly.

“Do you understand me, Bianca? You must do as I tell you.”

Very slowly, the girl blinked, her blue eyes resting on Rachon’s face, but not seeming to really see her.

“You do understand, don’t you?” Rachon grinned, rubbing the girl’s pink cheek with the back of her hand. “I think you’re somewhere in there, listening to me.”

“Almost there!” Prosper shouted over the music.

Cradling Bianca’s face between her hands, Rachon gently kissed her forehead, then rubbed her lips on the girl’s silky hair. “Oh, my sweet little thing. We’re about to rain hell down on our enemies. And it will be glorious.”

Bianca did not answer. She simply stared.

Chapter 22

The night wind tossed the limbs of the trees into a wild dance while the bats darted through the sky chasing succulent insects. Cian crouched in the clearing in the middle of Zilker Park near downtown Austin, his head craned, listening to the sounds of the city just beyond the belt of thick foliage spreading out along the river.

It was well past the appointed time of Rachon’s arrival. She was not answering her cellphone and her absence was disturbing. Resting his elbow on his knees, Cian’s fingers raked the coarse grass.

Amaliya stood next to him, arms folded over her breasts, her bleeding wrists dripping cold blood onto the ground. She’d be able to call the dead from the cemeteries scattered around Austin thanks to Eduardo pouring her blood onto a grave in each one. They had come prepared for a battle, but all was silent in the park. The scent of Amaliya’s blood was intoxicating. It blotted out the musty smell of the detritus putrefying after a recent rain and the mold growing over the rocks tucked into the edge of the river. It almost overwhelmed Eduardo’s cologne, but not quite.

Tucked behind the tree line, Cian could barely make out the hulking shape of the hunters’ van. It had been there when the three supernaturals had arrived at the park. It was just like mortals to believe they were concealed when they actually weren’t. He could even spot the cameras in the trees. Jeff’s people were not quite as good as they thought they were.

Eduardo yawned, sounding more animal than human.

Cian drew himself up. Amaliya glanced at him briefly, then returned her gaze to some distant point in the trees. She was dressed in tight black jeans, thick combat boots, and a black tank top with a middle finger emblazoned on it. It had amused Cian when he had seen it. Amaliya didn’t seem to quite grasp the concept of diplomacy.

“They’re not coming,” Amaliya said.

“Maybe they’re delayed,” Cian mused.

“Nah, she’s right. They’re not coming.” Eduardo shrugged his wide shoulders. “You got power-played, man.”

Casting a sharp look at the coyote, Cian said, “Do you know something?”

“No, I’m just taking a guess here, but I think your sister got you all riled up just so she could stand you up and show you who’s da boss.”

“I’m bleeding all over the place for no damn good reason,” Amaliya grumbled.

Cian hated admitting it to himself, but Eduardo had a good point. Rachon was temperamental and prone to unusual stunts. He hadn’t anticipated that she simply wouldn’t show up.

“Maybe we were lured out here for Santos to attack us,” Amaliya offered.

Eduardo inhaled deeply through his nose, then shook his head. “Except that there aren’t any vampires around but you two.”

Amaliya grimaced and lifted her wrists. Cian saw the weeping wounds gradually heal as her eyes glowed. With a growl of frustration, he kicked the ground, striking a divot into the dirt.

“She’s playing games,” Cian uttered through clenched teeth.

“Well, she’s his favorite kid,” Amaliya reminded him.

He bobbed his head in terse agreement, stalking about the other two. “What purpose does it serve to lure us out here? What does she gain from this?”

Amaliya shrugged. “It pisses you off.”

“Which is actually kind of funny,” Eduardo added.

The wind swirled around him, ruffling his hair and bringing with it the scents of humanity, not the supernaturals. Cian shook his head in anger.

“No, no. It’s something else. She does nothing lightly. There is a purpose to all she does, even if she is temperamental. What is Rachon up to?” Cian ran a hand through his long hair, letting it fall through his fingers to rest against his shoulders.