Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies #3)(102)

Eduardo’s jaw flexed, his throat moving as he swallowed angry words.

“Are you with us? Or not?”

Eduardo nodded curtly, stepping back.

“Right. This conversation is done.” Jeff strode past the coyote toward the front door just as Cassandra walked through the dining room with bags of weapons, Aimee hot on her heels.

Jeff motioned toward the door with his head. “We roll now.”

Eduardo stalked out of the house. If he had been in his were form, he would have had his tail between his legs.

“What’s that all about?” Cassandra asked.

“Nothing. It’s taken care of,” Jeff assured her, and hoped it was true. Looking toward the kitchen, Jeff shouted, “Sam!”




Samantha finished pouring extra food for Beatrice, then picked up the annoyed cat to press kisses to the top of her head. Even if she died tonight, she’d find a way to have her cat taken care of from beyond the grave.

“Love you, snookum,” she said.

The cat endured it all, one eye on the food.

Setting Beatrice on the kitchen floor, Samantha grabbed her big Betsey Johnson purse and ran through the house as Jeff called her name yet again. The rest of the cabal was already packed into Benchley’s passenger van. The engine was running and Benchley couldn’t keep his hand off the horn.

“Sam!”

“I’m here!”

She ran past her boyfriend onto the front porch, then down the walkway to the drive. The air was freezing and damp. She had wanted to wear something dramatic for the epic final battle, but ended up grabbing whatever was first in her drawers and closet, which was jeans, cowboy boots, a long sleeved t-shirt, and her leather coat. Jeff’s reassuring footfalls revealed he was close behind her.

As soon as she and Jeff clambered into the van, Benchley punched his foot down on the pedal and the vehicle roared downhill to the opening gates. Samantha flopped onto the middle bench between Jeff and Alexia. The tech girl was busy on her smart phone. Behind them were Cassandra, Baptiste, and a very sulky Eduardo. Samantha wondered what was up with the coyote, but didn’t bother to ask.

Aimee sat in the front seat with a map on her lap. The magical glow emanating from the paper was comforting as was the tiny red dot that was making its way toward San Antonio. It gave Samantha the impression things were looking up for their ragtag cabal. Nestling her hand in Jeff’s palm, she glanced at her fiancée. He looked more imposing and tough than she’d ever seen him before, yet the sweetness was still there. Heart swelling with love for him, she laid her head against his shoulder.

“We’ll be okay,” Jeff said quietly.

“Of course.” She tilted her head to give him an encouraging smile.

Benchley shoved a CD into the old battered player in the dashboard, blasting We Are the Champions by the epic rock band Queen.

“Really?” Aimee said, glancing at Benchley and arching an eyebrow.

Benchley’s response was to start singing.

Alexia enthusiastically chimed in though her eyes never left the glowing screen, then surprisingly Jeff joined in, too. Samantha glanced over her shoulder at Cassandra’s somber face. The dhamphir’s lips were moving along with Freddie Mercury. Baptiste’s deep baritone was added in the next verse. Aimee raised her hand in a fist, singing in a lovely soprano voice.

Benchley turned the music up, then pounded on the steering wheel as he sang. Samantha giggled at the lunacy of it all. At last, she joined in, singing at the top of her lungs and slightly off key.

The van sped down the road toward Interstate 35 and the final battle.





Part Seven

The End of The World





Chapter 27


The Summoner’s cavalcade of black Navigators sped along I-35 toward State Highway 1604. The evening traffic was brisk and heavy on both sides of the interstate. The lights of the neighborhoods and business streamed past Amaliya’s window as lightning slithered in the dark clouds above. The heavy atmosphere outside was reflected within the SUV. Above their heads the rings glowed in the shape of the sword that would rent the veil and usher in the abyss.

“So, Etzli,” Amaliya said into the eerie silence.

“What?” The Aztec’s voice was clipped.

“Where’s your brother?”

“Dead. His usefulness ended when we used his blood for the portal.”

“You’re a real f*ckin’ bitch.”

The sharp edges of Etzli’s profile were outlined by the flashing lights outside. Another emergency vehicle roared through the traffic on the way to yet another fire, accident, or crime.

“Don’t pretend you’re going to miss him.” Etzli’s dark eyes gleamed dangerously.

“I thought you two had a thing.”

“We did,” Etzli said. “Then The Summoner came to me.”

“So...you two?” Amaliya tilted her head to regard the silent form of Bianca beside her.

“Jealous?” The Summoner asked.

“No, no. The more the merrier I say.”

This comment drew an angry look from Etzli and a smirk from The Summoner.

“I noticed last night,” The Summoner said.

“Guess you weren’t invited,” Amaliya said to Etzli with a bright smile.