Pretty When She Destroys Page 17

  “Ugh! It’s hard.” Samantha’s frown deepened.

  In spite of all their practice, in the end, they hadn’t branched out their abilities, but only enhanced what they already had. It was frustrating. Amaliya had religiously studied all the notes Benchley had given her, but she still couldn’t astral project. Samantha still struggled to call ghosts on her own without Amaliya’s help. Their powers were best when they were together, which could work against them if they were separated in battle.

  The back door creaked opened and a female silhouette appeared framed in the doorway. The witch’s long white skirt fluttered around her legs and her tank top covered in silver sequins sparkled in the moonlight as she hurried off the back porch. Amaliya admired the long bronze hair that rippled on the breeze like a cloak. The witch carried a large wicker basket in her arms as she strode down to where the two women were sitting.

  “Care if I join you?” she asked.

  Amaliya shrugged. “Samantha’s concentration is shot, so sure.”

  “Hey!”

  “It is!”

  Samantha pouted. “Fine.”

  Sitting cross-legged on the ground beside them, Aimee set the basket aside. “I know you two are struggling and I think I can help. If that’s okay?”

  “Anything to help Samantha concentrate is appreciated.”

  Samantha rolled her eyes. “Seriously, it’s like studying for math. Annoying.”

  Aimee withdrew a very old tome from the basket. It was bound with strips of leather and most of the pages were frayed. “This is my Book of Shadows. It came through my mother’s line. It has this special little quirk where it adds information when I need it. It’s been a little reluctant to help me sort you two out but—”

  “It can think?” Samantha asked, bending toward the book.

  “Leave it alone,” Amaliya said, pushing her upright. “She just said it’s been reluctant to help us. Don’t freak it out.”

  “So it’s alive?” Samantha persisted, eyes wide.

  Aimee gave a slight nod. “Well, in a way it is. It’s not flesh and blood like we are, but a different sort of energy. Anyway, it was not very happy about the whole dark magic aspect of what you two do. It took some cajoling on my part to finally get it to talk to me.”

  “It talks?” Samantha’s eyes grew wider.

  Amaliya smacked her lightly. “Sam! Listen.” The blonde was off her game and it was annoying Amaliya to no end. Samantha was obviously distracted.

  Scowling at Amaliya, Samantha made a point of clamping her lips together.

  Looking amused, Aimee continued, “Your magicks resemble the necromancers and phasmagi of the past, but the reality is that it’s something uniquely yours. I had my a-ha moment earlier today when listening to Samantha’s plan to recruit Roberto to be her ghost minion.”

  “What?” Amaliya gasped. She was climbing to her feet before she realized what she was doing. Aimee grabbed her hand and yanked her down to the ground, surprising Amaliya with her strength.

  “Samantha, you didn’t tell Amaliya, I see.”

  “Oops.” Samantha gave Amaliya a wide-eyed innocent look.

  “What the fuck are you talking about, little bitch?”

  “I need a minion! A ghost to give me the inside scoop on the ghost shit, bitch-face,” Samantha answered.

  “And you picked Roberto? Are you fuckin’ kidding me? He tried to kill me and Cian!”

  “And he also tried to warn us about The Summoner! Remember? The Summoner was going to obliterate him, too, to infuse himself into Bianca’s body. He’s going to want payback!” Samantha scowled at Amaliya defiantly.

  Leaning toward the blonde, Amaliya stared into her friend’s eyes trying to gauge if she believed the bullshit she was spewing. To her surprise, she saw that Samantha didn’t flinch.

  “Look, bitch-face, I’m right on this. Okay? Trust me.”

  “Fine,” Amaliya grunted. “But I’m so not happy with this. The first time he does anything that I think even hints at betrayal, I will find a way to banish him.”

  “Agreed!”

  The witch looked back and forth between them. “Are we done?”

  Amaliya curtly nodded her head while Samantha rolled her eyes.

  “As I was saying, you two are unique. The Summoner created a new type of necro-vamp when he made you, Amaliya. You created a new type of phasmagus when you gave Samantha your blood. The old rules aren’t going to apply. That’s why you have to shed blood to raise the dead and Samantha is struggling to reach the dead. There’s an imbalance going on.” Aimee flipped through the pages of her book. “I think we’ve been looking at this the wrong way.”

  “I’m listening,” Amaliya said, attempting to not sound bitchy.

  “It’s all about the blood. You’re still a vampire at the core of all your power. When vampires feed off each other, they are infused with the other vampire’s blood. Sometimes they can use the other vampire’s power to enhance their own.”

  “Cian doesn’t get my necromancy from drinking from me,” Amaliya observed.

  “That’s because you’re not a normal vampire. But you’re stronger when you feed from him, right?”

  Amaliya considered this, then nodded. “Yeah. I get the ability to fly after feeding from him a lot.”

  Aimee set her hands on the open pages, bright specks of magic stirring under her palms. “Therefore, I’m going to ask a simple question.” She looked first to Amaliya and then to Samantha. “Amaliya, have you drunk from Samantha since her transformation?”

  “Eww, no.” Samantha flinched at the idea.

  The question surprised Amaliya, but it also made an immense amount of sense all at once. “No, I haven’t.”

  “I think you need to drink her blood. And she probably needs more of yours. I have a feeling Samantha is in mid-transition. Not fully a phasmagus. Also, you two are connected. Once Samantha has all her abilities, she will be able to instantly attune to the dead.” Aimee’s gaze shifted back and forth between them. “I think once Samantha is at full power, it will allow you to be at full power, too.”

  That surprised Amaliya. “You don’t think I’m at full power?”

  Aimee shook her head. “Not yet. Maybe if The Summoner had kept giving you his blood you would be, but he abandoned you and your connection with him dimmed. When you accidently made Samantha into a phasmagus, I think your connection with her kinda took his place. Your powers feed each other. They’re complimentary. I’ve been doing a bit of experimentation with the blood both of you gave me. When used together, the results are always much stronger.”

  “So I have to drink her blood. And she has to drink mine?” Samantha gave Amaliya a revolted expression. “That’s all sorts of gross.”

  “Maybe,” Aimee said. “But once at full power Amaliya may be able to summon the dead without spilling her blood on cemetery graves. She may be able to pull them straight out of the earth like The Summoner.”

  Falling onto her back, Amaliya stared up at the night sky. “Fuck me. That would be brilliant.”

  “That would be...good.” Samantha’s voice was hesitant.

  Amaliya felt a little overwhelmed. Aimee’s words rang true. Her magic was always lashing out, trying to find stability. With Samantha, she felt more focused and powerful. Whenever she was around The Summoner, she felt her magic responding to his, which was quite dangerous.

  The witch sat in silence, waiting for one of them to say something more.

  Amaliya rolled over to face her, one hand cupping her head. “Will this help with the blood bond?”

  With a sad look, Aimee gave her head a little shake. “He’ll still be a huge magnet to you, but it may help lessen his hold a little. All my experiments failed. You’re infused with his power and blood. I can’t remove that without killing you.”

  “We should do it,” Samantha said abruptly. “We need to do it. There’s no room for discussion. I need my powers. You need yours.”

  Amaliya observed the blonde’s pe
nsive face and sympathized. They had started off as adversaries and were now friends. Their magic demanded even more of them now, and it was a little frightening. It was another form of commitment. Up until recently Amaliya had run away at the mere hint of committing to anything.

  “It might get all sexy,” Amaliya teased.

  Samantha’s face paled a little. “Eww.”

  “Aw, it’s fun getting all sexy with another girl,” Aimee said with a sly look.

  The phasmagus’s pallid pallor was abruptly altered to bright red.

  “She’s giving you a hard time,” Amaliya assured Samantha.

  “I just like my sexy times to be with only Jeff,” Samantha muttered.

  “It’ll be fine.” Amaliya sat up, crossed her legs, and took Samantha’s hand.

  Instantly, their magic intermingled, darkness and light. Both women promptly relaxed, their earlier prickliness dissipating.

  “See,” Aimee said triumphantly. “Complimentary.”

  “What’s in the basket?” Amaliya asked.

  “Things to make it less sexy,” Aimee said, her gaze amused, her tone mocking.

  “I’m all for that.” Samantha perked up significantly.

  When the witch withdrew a dagger and chalice, Samantha deflated. Amaliya didn’t care how they exchanged blood. She could quickly heal. It would be more painful for the human with the dagger than with Amaliya’s sharp teeth.

  “I’ll leave it up to you, Samantha.” Amaliya offered her an encouraging smile.

  Closing her eyes and thrusting out her arm, Samantha said, “Bite me, bitch.”

  The kitchen smelled of magic and some awful human food. Cian tried to block out the stench and concentrate on the human seated across from him at the kitchen table. Jeff’s nervousness was obvious. He kept running his hands through his hair and avoiding direct eye contact with Cian. To unnerve the mortal further, the vampire sat with his arms folded across his chest, head slightly tilted, and his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. Cian was feeling agitated and Jeff’s hem-hawing around the topic he wanted to discuss wasn’t helping his mood.

  “...so I’m trying to keep focused on keeping the group unified, you know?” Jeff was saying.

  Cian inclined his head.

  The house was empty. Cassandra, Baptiste, and Eduardo were patrolling the city, checking all the perimeter spells, while Benchley was visiting Alexia at the electronic command center at Cian’s home. Cian could clearly see Amaliya, Samantha, and Aimee through the windows. The three women were seated on the lawn and having an animated conversation. He’d rather be hunting than dealing with Jeff, but the man was anxious to talk to him.

  “...and so that’s why Samantha needs Roberto.”

  “What?” Cian’s attention snapped back to Jeff.

  “Samantha needs a ghostly minion,” Jeff said, obviously repeating himself. “Because she needs someone to help her with the ghosts.”

  “And she wants to recruit Roberto’s ghost?” Cian’s emotions were immediately mixed. Roberto had been a close companion for years and someone he had relied upon until Roberto had betrayed him to The Summoner. He did miss the old camaraderie he shared with Roberto for many years, but the anger he felt over his betrayal could not be so easily assuaged in the glow of fond memories.

  “Well, she knows him. And Roberto will most likely want revenge on The Summoner. The Summoner did almost obliterate his ghost to infuse himself into Bianca’s body.” Jeff finally looked Cian directly in the eyes. The earnestness in his gaze did little to soften Cian’s reluctance.

  “Did you consider, Jeff, that he may also want revenge on Amaliya for killing him?”

  Wincing, Jeff inclined his head. “Yeah...maybe. But if he agrees to help, Samantha will hold authority over him. He’ll be totally dependent on her.”

  Cian didn’t blink as he continued to stare at Jeff. “And you think this is a wise idea?”

  “Samantha is a phasmagus who has yet to totally manifest her powers. She needs this help. We need her at full power.” Jeff waved his hand at the whiteboard. “The Summoner has anywhere from nine to eleven of the rings. It’s almost October. We’re running out of time, Cian.”

  Returning his attention to the women outside, Cian saw Amaliya resting on the ground gazing up at the stars. A pang of sorrow surprised him. For a moment he wanted to rush outside and lay next to her. It had been so long since they’d had a quiet moment to just enjoy the night. For a short period of time after they had first gotten together, they’d spent hours sitting outside on the balcony of their penthouse apartment, smoking cigarettes and talking. It had been incredibly peaceful. He longed for those nights again. Perhaps it was inevitable that to return to a more halcyon existence he would have to make deals with devils.

  “You’re not asking my permission to do this, are you?” Cian shifted in his chair. He was amused when Jeff started.

  Jeff wagged his head. “No. Not really. It’s Samantha’s choice, you know. In the end. It’s her power. Her life. We won’t even see him unless she decides to let him manifest. His entire existence will be tied to her.” Once the words left Jeff’s mouth, his demeanor significantly altered. Cian recognized his look immediately. It was of a man who realized he didn’t have control over the situation either.

  “Point well made. I will support Samantha’s decision then.” Cian cleared his throat. “Is that all?”

  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 Rachoń 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.

  “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.