Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies 3) - Page 67

Jeff winced. “No. One more thing.” The human clasped his hands together in front of him and took a deep breath. “Benchley uncovered some information about Bianca that complicates everything.”

“Enlighten me.”

As Cian listened to Jeff explain all that Benchley had unearthed, a feeling of dread washed over him. It was vividly clear to him what Amaliya’s reaction to the news would be. She would want to immediately launch a rescue. Cian had enough insight into her mind to know that Amaliya would not be able to abide Bianca being held captive by The Summoner. What his beloved hadn’t shared in actual conversation he had already glimpsed in her mind. Amaliya was adrift. As a vampire fledgling, the first years of her undead existence would have been under the guidance of her creator, but The Summoner had abandoned her. The power within her sought out vital connection. Coupled with the loss of her grandmother, Amaliya was craving familial bonds that were denied to her throughout her life. If Bianca was alive, she was in essence what was left of Amaliya’s vampire family. The Summoner, Bianca and Amaliya would have created a troika of power unlike any other if The Summoner had not been so set in his ways.

“Blood calls to blood,” Cian said at last.

“What does that mean?”

“Vampires that are created by the same vampire have a strong attachment to one another. Though Rachon and I have a very adversarial relationship, when I’m near her I feel the connection between us. That is what initially drew me to Amaliya. I still feel a pull to The Summoner after all this time, though it has diminished with time. I suspect that the link between Amaliya and Bianca is even more intense. They are the only two of their kind.” Cian finally relaxed his posture. He rested his elbows on the table and cupped his chin in his hands.

“So this is bad,” Jeff decided.

“Possibly. Depending on how I deal with it. And you must let me deal with telling her. Understood?”

“Yes, absolutely!” The young man was clearly uneasy with the entire situation. “Benchley calls Amaliya our big gun and she really is. If she goes off after The Summoner on her own, we’re fucked.”

“I almost think I preferred it when she ran away from danger, not toward it.” Cian gave Jeff a slim smile.

“A nice middle ground between the two would be good.”

The massive pulse of power almost knocked Cian off his chair. It thrummed through the room like a cello playing low notes.

“Cian?” Jeff rose to his feet in alarm.

Scrambling to his feet, Cian stared out the window. “Shit.”

“What is it?”

A thick wall of risen corpses stood in a tight cluster around the area where the women had been seated. Completely immobile, the zombies gave the impression of being sentinels. As Cian watched, the decayed and desiccated forms gradually flushed with life until they resembled living, breathing humans. What was most disturbing was that from the center of the beings a thick, roiling, ghostly mist tumbled upward into the sky. Sparks of light and vague flashes of wraithlike bodies and faces filled the miasma.

&nb

sp; “What the fuck is that?” Jeff gasped.

“I have no idea,” Cian answered.

The two men rushed to the back door.

Samantha kept her eyes firmly closed, anticipating the bite of the vampire. The first and last time Amaliya had drunk from Samantha, she had drawn blood from a stab wound inflicted by a sword-wielding zombie controlled by The Summoner. It had been the only way to save Samantha’s life. Therefore, Samantha had never experienced a vampire’s actual bite. In some movies and books the bite was sensual and pleasurable, but in others it was agonizing. As she waited in dreaded anticipation, Samantha wasn’t sure which would be worse.

Flinching when Amaliya’s cool lips closed over her wrist, Samantha balled her free hand into a fist. The razor sharp teeth punched through her skin, a flash of pain popping her eyes open. Instinctively, Samantha started to jerk her arm away, but Amaliya had a vice grip on her forearm and didn’t relent. Within a few short seconds, the agony of the vampire bite vanished to be replaced by sublime bliss.

“Oh, wow,” Samantha panted, swooning despite her resolve not to do any such thing. It was as if she was submerged in a cloud of pleasure that left her reeling with an intoxicating rush. Eyes fluttering closed, she let the waves of ecstasy close over her and sweep her way. She didn’t even realize she had slumped onto her side until Amaliya leaned over her and gave her a firm shake.

“Samantha, you need to drink from me,” Amaliya said, sounding as though she was speaking from far away.

Opening her eyelids just a slit, Samantha stared at the vampire. “Oh, wow. You’re so pretty...and scary.”

Amaliya’s power was coursing out of her like great majestic wings that trembled above her shoulders. Eyes glowing like white fire and her long black hair twisting about her head in inky tendrils, Amaliya looked like a death goddess.

“Drink, Samantha, while the magic is strong,” Aimee’s voice ordered from nearby.

When her gaze drifted to the witch, Samantha drew in a sharp breath of surprise. Aimee’s figure was outlined in the glowing colors of the rainbow with orbs of light drifting around her head like a halo.

“Drink,” Amaliya insisted, holding out her arm.

The liquid dripping from the vampire’s pale flesh was black and filled with stars. Samantha drunkenly tried to sit up and Amaliya rapidly slid her other arm around the blonde to support her.

Tags: Rhiannon Frater Pretty When She Dies Vampires
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