Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies #3)(18)

By the time the group located the two vampires (who were kissing in the stacks) and finally locked up the bookstore, Jeff had an ugly knot of worry forming in his stomach. The only thing around him that felt stable and certain was Samantha. Her arm around his waist was his lifeline to sanity. Aimee and Cassandra stood to one side sharing worried looks while Benchley appeared just as gloomy as his jilted sister. Amaliya and Sergio’s goodbye was terse despite the affection they obviously had for one another. Cian forced a check into Sergio’s hand, his look steely.

No wonder Rachoń had departed after tossing her pearl of wisdom at them. She could see that they were already splitting along the seams, breaking into small clusters.

Jeff pressed a kiss to the top of Samantha’s head and inhaled the sweetness of her scent. Maybe he wasn’t cut out to lead any of them for he had no idea how to rally the troops and find the unity they would need to defeat The Summoner.




Tangled up in the bed sheets, Amaliya listened to the absolute silence that filled the bedroom during the day. The soundproofing kept the neighborhood noises at bay, but also created an aura of sterility within the room that made Amaliya uneasy.

Cian was perfectly still beside her. The daylight plunged him into the deep vampire sleep that robbed him of all signs of life. During the day he was nothing more than a corpse and Amaliya hated that fact. She also hated that when she was asleep, she was just also a dead body waiting to reanimate. It was the only part of being a vampire that she truly disliked.

Though Cian was jealous of her ability to awaken in the early afternoon, Amaliya disliked slipping back into consciousness only to be trapped inside the darkened room with Cian’s unmoving form. She was not like other vampires, and she often resented that fact. The Summoner had made a new type of vampire when he had created her. Her early awareness was just another part of the curse he had inflicted upon her. She wondered if Bianca would have suffered the same way if she had survived the transformation and risen as a vampire. How much would she have been like Amaliya?

Bothered by her thoughts, Amaliya rolled onto her side in the large bed, putting her back to Cian and staring at the wall. She wished she could return to the deep vampire slumber, but she rarely ever did. Oftentimes she just lay in bed reading, or listening to music. Her Kindle and iPod sat on the bed stand fully charged and waiting. Yet she didn’t feel like doing anything another than staring into the dark.

Sergio’s awkward departure weighed on her. His hug had been tight, but it had also been angry. Though Amaliya was certain that Sergio shouldn’t be a part of their battle and needed to hide his family just in case they failed, it had hurt to send him away. Sergio and her grandmother were the only two people in her family she felt she could trust and rely on. Now they were both gone and she felt adrift and alone. Cian loved her for who she was now, but Sergio and Innocente loved her because of who she had once been: a lost child who just wanted to be loved. Though she was now a powerful vampire necromancer who was absolutely loved by Cian, the girl she had once been was still inside her. That girl wanted to run away, hide, and avoid what was coming.

“I wanted to run away,” Bianca’s voice said with a sigh.

Amaliya sat up, twisted around, and found herself in the coffee shop where she had spent her last few hours of her human life. “I fell back to sleep,” she said in awe to the slim blonde girl seated across from her.

“Only for a little bit,” Bianca said, shrugging. “The sun will go down soon.”

Bianca was just as Amaliya remembered her. Fair hair, big blue eyes, small pink cupid bow mouth, a fashion style that was perfect for the old Nineties grunge scene, and a desperate look on her face for love and approval that reminded Amaliya far too much of herself at eighteen.

“I can’t trust you,” Amaliya said, sadness filling her. “You might be him.”

Fingers playing with her coffee mug, Bianca nodded. “That’s true. He’ll try to fool you. It’s what he does.”

“I wanted to save you. I had hoped that I wasn’t the only one, you know?” It felt foolish to pour out her feelings to a dream phantom, yet Amaliya wanted to say what she’d been keeping hidden away since the night at the graveyard. “I really needed you. I have Cian. I love him. I had my human family, too. I didn’t realize how alone I felt until I realized The Summoner had stolen you from me.”

Bianca let out a long sigh. “We could’ve helped each other.”

“I’m remembering things now. From when I was a kid and I thought I was making things up. That I had an over-active imagination. But now I know what I saw were ghosts. I just learned to turn it off. Maybe that’s why I always felt so removed from everyone and everything. I had to make myself that way to survive, but it robbed me of something important.” Amaliya rolled her eyes and laughed. “Gawd, I sound like I’m on Oprah or something.”

Bianca gave her a wistful smile. “Yeah, you do.”

“I’m so sorry you’re dead. I’m so sorry that he took your body from you. I’m so sorry that I’m going to have to destroy your body to kill him.”

“Amaliya, I’m not dead.” Sliding her hands across the table, Bianca’s fingers stopped scant centimeters from Amaliya’s. With her chin on the table, Bianca stared up at Amaliya. “I need you to find me. I’m still alive.”