Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies #3)(32)

“Second one has red eyes. Vampire?”

“Or demon,” Benchley said, shaking his head. “I hate demons.”

“Are they eyes like fire, or just glowing red?” Alexia asked.

“Fire.”

“Demon,” Alexia and Benchley said at the same time.

“Shit.” Samantha licked her lips. “Can they get through the ward?”

“No one can get in that means you ill will. That’s how the ward works,” Alexia explained. She crawled over to the front window and set a small camera on the sill, before going back to her computer. “Benchley, put these on the back window and side windows.”

Benchley vanished into the house with the cameras.

Samantha watched as the purple energy crackled over the ward. It was shot through with arcs of energy that looked like lightning. The dark magic hungrily lapped over the surface, seeking a way in. “Does it hold against bullets?”

“I...think so.” Alexia was busy at her laptop. “I’m not sure.”

“Can I shoot them through it?”

Alexia shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Find out!”

“Cameras are up,” Benchley said, huffing back into the living room. He grabbed a small .22 from the bag and stuffed some spells into his pockets.

“I got the feed.” Alexia looked up at the television where the views around the house were projected. “Two in the back trying to get through there.”

Samantha crouched and stared at the screen. The cameras did not reveal the magic that was pummeling the ward or the ward itself. “Call Aimee and find out what the ward will and won’t do.”

Searching his pockets for his phone, Benchley gave her a curt nod.

Biting her lip, she tried to sort out what she could do. The sound of the black magic hitting the barrier was making her head hurt and it was difficult to concentrate through the pain. It amazed her that Benchley and Alexia couldn’t hear or see what she was witnessing. Crawling forward, she pushed Alexia away from the laptop and pulled up the presentation they’d been giving her. Scrolling through the pictures, Samantha searched for any clue as to how her magic could help them.

“How did the phasmagus call ghosts?” Samantha asked Alexia.

“He carried dirt from a graveyard and bits of bone,” Alexia replied.

“Doesn’t help. I’m not going to go dig up Mr. Kibbles. I’d probably only get kitty ghosts.” She saw the blank looks and quickly explained. “My other cat that passed away. I buried him in the yard.”

“He used corpses as a focus to reach the dead,” Benchley explained. “You just need something that will help you contact the spirits. Like a Ouija board or something.”

“Hello! Good Baptist here!” Samantha sat back on her heels, her gun still clutched in her hand.

Benchley’s thick fingers were trembling as he held his phone to his ear. “No answer. Trying Cass.”

Samantha returned to the window and peered out. The assault was growing in intensity. Now there were two more figures joining the first in hurling dark magic at the ward. Beyond them the neighborhood was peaceful and quiet.

At last, Samantha realized what she needed. “Amaliya.”





Chapter 8


Amaliya clutched Cian’s hand as they strode along the busy sidewalks of downtown Austin. The early evening breeze was heavy with moisture and the threat of late summer storms. The many swanky stores, upscale restaurants, and towering buildings holding luxury apartments were a far cry from the older buildings, dives, and bars that had once inhabited much of this area Austin. The city was continuing its transformation and Amaliya missed the old version. She had fit in better with the Austin she had originally fallen in love with.

Most of the people rushing past her were dressed in very expensive clothes, perfectly coiffed, and reeked of money. The two vampires garnered a few curious looks, but Amaliya ignored the people staring at them openly. Cian’s chestnut brown hair was long and layered around his face that sported a scruffy goatee. His lean form was in dark jeans, a black shirt with red edging on the collar, and black cowboy boots. Amaliya was in a short black dress with spaghetti straps and a sweetheart neckline. The red soled platform high heels on her feet were the most expensive pair she’d ever owned. Cian had purchased the Louboutins because the spikes that studded the black leather reminded him of her. She had to admit they looked awesome even if they made her taller than Cian. It was just another sign of how much he adored her.

“Be careful,” Cian said, warning her of a crack in the sidewalk.

Pressing closer to him, she felt the coolness of his body through his shirt. “Catch me if I fall?”

“Always.” He flashed a grin and kissed her cheek.

Amaliya’s long black hair flowed unfettered to her waist, garnering a few admiring looks. She’d considered chopping it off, but it had always been a sort of security blanket throughout her life. One tilt of her head, and it formed a shield between her and the world. It was also really good at hiding her face when she was severely pissed off and wanted to rip someone’s head off. It had saved her on more than one occasion when it came to her difficult family.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I thought we’d wander a bit before we meet Baptiste at the bookstore later,” Cian answered.