Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies #3)(37)

“They’re obeying you.” Amaliya released Samantha’s wrist and headed toward the back door. “Which means I’m about to go to work.”

Samantha scooted past the vampire, feeling a strange sense of responsibility for the ghosts. “What if the witches hurt them?”

She hurried into the living room and checked the cameras. Alexia sat on the floor staring at the television, chewing on her thumbnail. A stack of spells and her .22 sat next to her. On the screen, the people clustered together under the trees in Samantha’s front yard were black blobs. The assault on the ward continued. The sound had altered again, which made Samantha uncomfortable. What if the dome of magic collapsed? She was about to rush for her gun when the people on the screen fell to the ground and the world became eerily silent.

“They did it,” she gasped, surprised, yet strangely proud.

Alexia tilted her head to regard Samantha with awe. “You totally did it. You are a phasmagus.”

The air felt like it left her lungs and Samantha sat down hard on the coffee table. Overcome, she hugged herself, trying to calm her sudden bout of shivers. “Oh, f*ck me. The Summoner is going to want me dead in such a bad way.”





Chapter 10


Amaliya kicked off her fancy shoes and barreled out of the back door the second the attack on the ward ceased. The neighbor’s backyard was blissfully dark, but dogs throughout the neighborhood were barking crazily. Leaping over the hurricane fence that bordered the two properties, Amaliya punched through the ward and landed next to a man clad all in black.

A hiss and a lightning fast blow aimed at her head immediately identified him as a vampire. Amaliya ducked under his attack and rammed her open hand into his thick neck. Fingers tightening, she pivoted on one foot while she dug into skin and muscle with her sharp nails, then ripped out his throat. Blood splashed over her as she flung the hunk of flesh away. The momentum of her attack completely spun her about. The glint of a sharp silver knife caught her eye. She raised one limb in time to take the blow to her forearm. Seizing the remains of the vampire’s ruined neck with both hands, she tore his head off. Dropping it on the crumpled body, she raced toward the front of the house. The dead vampire’s blood soaked her dress, but her skin hungrily lapped it up as her body absorbed the energy of his death.

The next attack came from above. A vampire grabbed her by the hair and jerked Amaliya into a tree. Amaliya let out a startled cry that was drowned out by the wild barking of the neighborhood dogs. As she was dragged up through the limbs of the tree, Amaliya floundered, trying to grab onto branches. The vampire, a woman, smashed Amaliya into one of the thicker limbs, pinned her, and attempted to plunge a stake into her heart.

Again, Amaliya took the blow, raising her hand so the stake punched through her palm. The female let out a feral snarl, seized Amaliya by the back of the head, and propelled her face first into the trunk of the tree. Burning blood to immediately heal her broken nose, Amaliya braced her hands against the tree trunk and shoved her body backward into the vampire. Together they toppled out of the boughs.

Amaliya hit the ward first, her blood sizzling against the shimmering surface. To her surprise, it didn’t yield beneath her. She skidded down the invisible dome for a second, then the vampire landed beside her. Screaming in agony, the vampire thrashed around, engulfed by the magical arcs of light emanating from the barrier. Amaliya tried to stop her descent, digging her fingers into the magic. Her necromancy tore into the ward, then the spell gave way with a loud pop, and both vampires plunged onto the roof of Samantha’s house.

“Fuck!”

Somehow her blood had eaten through the ward and destroyed it.

The metal ridges of the roofing bit into Amaliya’s side as she rolled to her feet. Yanking the blade out of her forearm, Amaliya squeezed her hand around the stake still embedded in her flesh.

The vampire before her rose, dark hair framing a twisted, furious face. For a second Amaliya thought she was facing Etzli, then realized it was another of Santos’s female vampires. Indigenous Mexican in appearance, the tiny woman drew a silver blade and charged Amaliya. Swifter than her now dead male counterpart, the vampire danced around Amaliya, taking swipes that weren’t meant to kill, but draw blood. It was an attempt to weaken Amaliya, but the necromancer-vampire had fed so deeply on death, she was barely affected. The vampire obviously was fighting Amaliya like she would any normal vampire and not taking her necromancy into account.

Attempting to look as pathetic and outmatched as possible, Amaliya lured the vampire closer. Her clumsy attempts to deflect the blade brought a grin to her attacker’s face. The silver blade bit cold and hard into Amaliya’s skin while she half-heartedly dodged and slashed at the other vampire. A deep cut across her abdomen doubled her over, and her attacker immediately raised her dagger, ready to hack off her head.

With a grin of delight, Amaliya lunged forward and slapped her hand against the woman’s chest, the stake impaling her palm stabbing deep into the vampire’s chest. Amaliya then rode the woman’s body down onto the metal roof, her other hand shoving the stake all the way through her own flesh and into the vampire’s heart. The expression of shock and fear on the other woman’s face as she died took a bite of Amaliya’s conscious, but she dismissed it. She hadn’t asked for this war, but she was going to win it.

Leaving the moldering body behind, Amaliya charged across the roof and leaped down just as Cian’s car arrived. She landed in shadows of the tall trees bordering the front yard and near the fallen bodies of the witches. Another dark figure was hunched over them, attempting to awaken one of the witches. When it raised its head, Amaliya saw eyes of red fire and a face that wasn’t quite human.