Pretty When They Collide: A Novella in the Pretty When She Dies Universe (Volume 4) Read online

  The insolence in his eyes continued.

  “Fine. We’ll do it the hard way,” Cassandra said with a sigh. Shoving the dagger up through his chin, she speared his face, shattering teeth and his cheekbone. Bloody tears flooded his eyes. “If I had angled that blade just a little differently you would be missing a nice chunk of your brain.”

  In spite of his fear, Leonard’s expression was clear. He was not about to capitulate. Annoyed, Cassandra withdrew her blade from his pale flesh and cleaned it on his shirt before tucking it into her garter. She flicked off what was left of her shoes, and walked barefoot across the floor while fishing thin gloves out of her bra. She tugged them on and set her hands on her hips. The suite wasn’t that big and she quickly located his luggage. Pawing through it, she found nothing.

  Scott, her broker, had been quite clear that the relic was an ugly lump of wood that no one would prescribe any worth to at a glance. It was what was hidden inside the petrified wood that was the big prize. Studying the suite, Cass pulled at the red dress with one hand. She was going to be very happy to get out of it.

  Prowling around the suite, she opened drawers, checked behind curtains, and rummaged around in the cushions of the chairs and sofa. Her time was ticking away. If Scott was correct, the exchange was supposed to happen tonight.

  “If I was a creepy guy with delusions of grandeur where would I hide a rare relic?” she muttered under her breath. Running her hands through her hair and feeling the clips to her extensions, Cassandra watched the vampire thoughtfully. “Of course.”

  Cassandra walked over to the bed, lifted the corner of the mattress easily with one hand, and was rewarded with the sight of a hunk of rounded wood with strange carvings in the dark surface resting in the center of the bed. Leonard tumbled off the slanted mattress and onto the floor, making too much noise for comfort. Snatching up the relic, she watched the door, waiting to see if the guards burst in. She lowered the mattress and tiptoed to where Leonard lay face down on the floor. Gripping his shoulder, she rolled him over. The silver stiletto caught on the carpet and slid out of his chest.

  Instantly, Leonard’s hands closed on her throat, his long fangs sliding out to press against his bottom lip. They fell over, grappling with each other. Leonard growled wordlessly as he sought to throttle her into unconsciousness. She managed to get the heel of her hand under his wounded chin and shoved upward. The fingers pressing into her throat didn’t relent, but she was infused with enough vampire blood that the lack of oxygen was not yet affecting her. It was obvious that Leonard had no idea how to deal with her kind. The vampire struggled to straddle her body and get leverage to choke her, but she kept twisting, knocking him off balance. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the glint of the bloody stiletto heel and lashed out to grab it.

  Leonard saw the flash of movement and his eyes shot to the weapon clutched in her hand.

  “You should have called for help,” she said, punching the stiletto into his temple.

  The vampire toppled over, his face locked in an expression of disbelief. After the number of women he had tortured and murdered, Cassandra felt satisfied that she had been the end of him. Grabbing the razor sharp knife from her garter, she flicked it open while grabbing his thin hair in one hand. One brutal swipe and his head came free of his body. She carried it to the bathroom and flung it into the garden tub.

  Cassandra used the edge of her dress to turn on the water and wash off her face and gloved hands. Once clean, she reclaimed the relic from where she had dropped it. She had been incredibly overconfident, and it could have gone a lot worse than it had. Luckily, Leonard had been too arrogant to call for help. Otherwise she would have had to deal with the guards who were likely infused with vampire blood.

  Picking up her shoes, she reattached the heels and reluctantly put them back on. Next she yanked a small linen bag out of her bra and dropped the relic into it. She hung the bag over her neck and tucked it into her dress. A quick check on Leonard’s parts revealed that he was swiftly decomposing into muddy sludge.

  She had known from the moment she had taken the job that she would have to do something she hated doing. Sometimes being a dhamphir was a little too disturbing when it came to some of her more odd abilities. Yet she needed to be discreet and avoid the client that Leonard was meeting with shortly. Scott had been very clear that she was not to engage the client. She suspected it was someone that Scott occasionally worked for.

  The air vent wasn’t too high up the wall and she pulled out her small tool kit from her bra. Being nearly flat-chested had its advantages sometimes when it came to storage space. She removed the vent and held the cover in one hand. With inhuman dexterity, she swung her body upward and thrust her feet into the opening. Instantly her body began to contract to fit into the narrow space. Whereas some vampires could turn into a mist, her body was able to collapse to allow her passage through tight spots. The old legends called dhamphirs boneless, and that’s exactly what it felt like. Her hips and rib cage squished inward, the relic an uncomfortable pressure against her skin, as she wedged her body into the vent. She kept one hand on the cover and wiggled her body until she was firmly inside the narrow shaft. Carefully, she tugged the cover into place and secured it with bits of putty from her tool kit.

  Pushing with her hands, she slid herself through the air duct until she reached the vent that opened to the small storage area the maids used while cleaning the rooms. She had earlier removed the screws and easily popped it out. Gripping the edges of the opening, she unfurled her body from the vent in a snake-like motion. Immediately her bones and muscles shifted back into place and she dropped to the floor.

  Once she returned the cover to the vent, she found the small bag she had hidden behind the towels and linen earlier in the day when she had solidified her extraction plan. She was relieved to peel off the gloves, and yank off the red dress, bra, and high heels. Replacing them with slim black jeans, a white tank top, and a black cropped thin-leather jacket, she hurriedly tugged on her low heeled boots and tied the laces. The rooms had already been cleaned for the day, but she needed to move fast if she was to avoid trouble. There was the distinct possibility of the guards finding Leonard soon.

  The hair clips gave her a little trouble, but she finally got the extensions out and ran her fingers through her wavy hair. To destroy the glamour all she had to do was remove the enchanted earrings she was wearing. She rolled up her clothes and shoved everything into the bag. She then took apart the shoes to make sure they fit, before finally adding the baseball sized relic to the bag. Securing the straps, she tossed it over her shoulder and took a peek out of the storage room door. The hallway was empty.

  Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for the worst and hoped for the best before sauntering through the hallway. She had to pass Leonard’s room to reach the elevators, which meant walking past the guards. Even though she knew the glamour was gone, it was still a nerve-wracking moment when she strolled past them. Ramon glanced at her appreciatively while the other guard ignored her completely.

  She couldn’t help but smile at Ramon. At least he wasn’t into vapid slutty women.

  The area around the elevators was surprisingly devoid of people. She pressed the button and impatiently waited. Hotel elevators always took forever to make the journey to the selected floor. So many people were getting on and off it was amazing it ever reached its destination.

  Combing her fingers through her hair, she fidgeted. She had taken longer than she planned and she didn’t want to be around for the discovery of Leonard’s body and the missing relic. Taking her cellphone out the pocket of her bag, she checked the time. If Scott’s information was correct, she was definitely cutting it close. Hopefully, the client wouldn’t be early.

  The elevator doors slid open, revealing a very handsome man with gleaming black hair dressed in a tuxedo and red-tinted glasses. He flashed a charming smile in her direction and she instantly knew he was a vampire. Fearfully, she took a step to the si
de, hoping he wouldn’t sense her true nature. After his initial smile he barely acknowledged her as he stepped into the corridor. Desperate to get into the elevator and away from him, Cassandra darted into the car and crashed into the woman following in the vampire’s wake, knocking them both off balance. Instinctively, they both grabbed onto each other.

  The moment Cassandra’s hands closed on the woman’s forearms, she felt a jolt of power sizzle through her body. The other woman’s pink lips parted in surprise.

  “I’m sorry,” Cassandra muttered. “I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

  “It’s okay,” the beautiful blond answered, her blue eyes sparkling beneath the gold fringe of her eyelashes.

  Circling each other, the woman in the slinky evening gown ended up in the hallway and Cassandra found herself standing in the elevator. With surprise, Cassandra realized she was still holding onto the other woman. The woman’s fingertips traced along Cassandra’s fingers just seconds before two big men brushed past Cassandra from within the elevator, jostling them apart. Cassandra pressed her back to the wall of the elevator, her breath caught in her throat. Fear still coursed through her veins, but her attention was focused on the face of the young woman watching her as the elevator doors slid shut.

  Raising her hand, Cassandra stared at it. She could still feel the woman’s touch burning along her nerve endings. Whatever the other woman was, she was pure power. Resting her hand on her chest, Cassandra slowly exhaled.

  “What the hell was that?” she wondered.

  Remembering to hit the button to the lobby, she punched it with a trembling hand. As the car slid downward, Cassandra’s thoughts didn’t rest on her successful endeavor, but the face of the woman with the long bronze hair.

  Chapter 4:

  The Touch of the Unknown

  Aimee knew the second the stranger touched her that her world had changed forever. Within a few scant seconds, she memorized the woman’s narrow face with its strong nose, full lips, and hazel cat-eyes framed by thick chestnut waves that fell to a dimpled chin in a fashionable shag. The touch of the woman’s hands upon her bare arms elicited deep feelings of desire inside of Aimee that shocked, but also pleased her. A mystical power sparked between them, igniting bits of herself Aimee had long feared were dead.

  Reluctantly, she released the woman as the guards shoved them apart. When the door shut separating them, Aimee wanted to fling her body against it. She belonged on the other side of the elevator doors and knew it to the core of her being.

  Shaken, she stared at her dazed reflection in the burnished surface of the elevator. Frank’s touch on her arm startled her and she almost shrugged him off.

  “Come along, witchy girl,” Frank said, sounding annoyed.

  “Just fixing my hair,” she lied and made a fuss of tucking her hair back from her face.

  “Now you worry about your appearance. We’re just picking up something from a courier, not meeting with a client.” Frank dragged her along behind him, his fingers biting cruelly into her skin.

  Aimee hurried, trying to keep up with him. Frank was being his normal mercurial self, but she felt a pulse of paranoia. What if he had noticed her reaction to the other woman? She wasn’t even sure what she would tell him if he asked her what she had experienced. Aimee wished she could find a quiet place far away from Frank so she could process what had just occurred.

  The long hall was empty except for two men. They were casually chatting outside of a room, but Aimee knew instinctively that they were guards. The dark power of a vampire infused both of them.

  “Sir,” one of them said, noting Frank’s approach.

  “Good evening, Ramon. Is Leonard ready for us?”

  “He’s having dinner right now,” Ramon said swiftly.

  Frank made a point of checking his watch. “By my estimation, I am just on time.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ramon said nervously. He quickly rapped on the door. “Mr. Klein, your guest is here.”

  Frank’s thumb rubbed the back of Aimee’s hand gently, but she could feel the tension in his body. He was anxious to procure whatever the courier was delivering. It peaked her curiosity. Their home was filled with many rare artifacts due to Frank’s collecting addiction. He had a deep need to possess the rare and hard to find. If he believed something was one of a kind, it became even more of a compulsion to collect it. Aimee did not fool herself into believing that Frank loved her for her personality or looks. It was because she was a full-blood witch and, therefore, just one more piece in his collection.

  There was no answer from the other side of the door. Frank again checked his watch and scowled. “This isn’t acceptable.”

  Ramon again rapped his knuckles against the door and raised his voice as he called out, “Mr. Klein, your guest is here.”

  Aimee watched as Frank’s face began to flush with frustration. It was not a good sign.

  Again, there was no answer.

  Pointing at the face of his watch, Frank said to the flustered guards, “I don’t have the time for this. I’m on a schedule and I won’t tolerate delays. Open that door.”

  Ramon and the other guard exchanged looks, then Ramon nodded. “Do it, Tyson.”

  Tiny beads of sweat dotted the black man’s brow as he pulled out a keycard and slipped it into the lock. The light above the handle flashed green and Tyson cracked the door open. “Mr. Klein, your guest is here. Mr. Klein?”

  “This is ridiculous.” Frank reached past the guard and shoved the door open.

  Aimee recoiled from the sight of the moldering remains of a vampire on the floor on the far side of the suite.

  “And this is definitely unacceptable.” Frank appeared personally offended by the scene before him.

  Ramon and Tyson quickly drew weapons and cautiously stepped into the suite. Frank waved an irritated hand at his own guards. One of his men followed while the other two remained in the hall to watch over the vampire and the witch.

  Aimee reached into her small evening bag and pulled out a protection spell. The dry bundle felt warm and reassuring against her skin. Frank craned his head to look into the suite, impatient with the whole process of searching it.

  “It’s clear,” Frank’s guard said. “No one is in here.”

  Stomping into the suite, Frank scanned the room. “Where is my package?”

  “It doesn’t appear to be here,” Tyson confessed.

  Aimee was escorted inside by Frank’s guards. The door shut with a sharp click. She drifted over to a chair and sat on the edge of the seat. Frank was in a volatile mood and she knew things could deteriorate very quickly.

  “Really? My package that I paid for isn’t here? And you two yahoos were out in the hall doing what while my package disappeared and the courier ended up as much garden mulch?” Frank kicked the pile of decomposing vampire. “One of you has to explain this to me.”

  “There was a woman with him, but she’s not here now,” Ramon said immediately.

  “A woman?” Frank arched both eyebrows. “Ah, yes. You said he was having his dinner. So, what was she? Some sort of magical invisible woman?”

  “No, no. She was just a stupid bimbo,” Tyson said.

  “Not so stupid if the courier is dead and the relic is gone, huh?” Frank poked Tyson’s chest with one finger, knocking him back a few feet. “What did this bimbo look like?”

  “Blond, lots of makeup, lots of plastic surgery. Red dress. High heels.” Ramon shrugged. “She looked like a thousand other girls with dreams of being a movie star. I just don’t get how she got out of the room. The windows are sealed shut and there is only one door in.”

  Aimee felt Frank’s eyes settle on her and she looked up at him.

  “Well, my little witch? How did she get out? Because I think we’re all on the same page that she is behind the theft of my package and the murder of the courier, am I right?”

  Ramon and Tyson reluctantly nodded.

  Aimee scrutinized the suite from her chair. She felt like shrug
ging, but knew that would not go over very well with Frank. Standing, she strolled over to the closet, then the bathroom, holding her palm an inch over the surfaces. “I don’t feel a spell of any kind.” She turned to find Frank right behind her. His vampire stealth annoyed her.

  “So then what? Are they spelled?” Frank pointed at the two very nervous guards.

  Aimee strolled over to the two men and raised her hands. Closing her eyes, she flexed her power. It trickled over the men, tasting their aura, and dipping into their minds. Dropping her hands, she shook her head. “They’re not spelled and they’re not lying.”

  “I really hate mysteries, did you know that?” Frank glared at Aimee.

  “What do you want me to do?” Aimee asked, anger in her voice.

  “Figure it out!” Frank barked at her. “Is my relic really stolen, or is it here?”

  Closing her eyes, Aimee exhaled, her liquid gold power filling the space around her. It searched out other magicks, but found nothing. “It’s not here. There isn’t a spell either.”

  “So I have sealed windows, one entry, guards who aren’t lying, a missing relic I paid a shit-ton of money for, and an invisible woman!” Frank’s rage was a black fire on her skin and she shrank away from him. “How the hell did our bimbo get out of here? Did she turn into a mouse and crawl through a hole in the wall? Or maybe into a bug and went under the crack in the door?”

  “Or through the air vent,” Tyson suggested, partially jokingly.

  Frank glared up at the vent. “No one could fit through there. Unless they were a vampire and turned to mist and that would have to be a powerful, old vampire.”

  “She wasn’t a vampire,” Ramon said confidently.

  “She was just a human girl,” Tyson agreed.

  “That somehow fit through an air vent that a cat couldn’t–” Frank stopped in mid-sentence and became frighteningly still.

  Aimee took a timid step away from him. It was dangerous when he acted this way. Violence usually followed.