Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies #3)(49)

The Summoner found the female body intriguing. The smaller build and the way the body naturally moved were so much different from his old one. Sex was very, very different, though he was bored with it now. He missed the act of penetrating his lovers.

Maybe he could find a way to possess Cian’s body so he could claim Amaliya as a man. The thought appealed to him.

A tiny flutter within him indicated that Bianca was awake. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the tender wisp of her consciousness and subsumed it into the deeper reaches of his mind.

“We have the ring from the Vatican en route,” Etzli said.

Opening his eyes, he saw the vampire learning over him. “Very good. You please me.”

Preening under his praise, she returned to her phone call.

Within The Summoner, Bianca was still.





Part Three

Ghosts, Blood, and Death





Chapter 14


September 2012



Samantha could hear Jeff and Benchley speaking in the kitchen in strained voices. Pausing in the long hallway, she considered going back to bed. It was almost one in the afternoon, but she spent a good portion of her nights learning to use her powers and often slept in. Barefoot and wearing a pink sundress, she stood in silence trying to decide if she wanted to deal with the day just yet. The sunlight spilling into the darkened hallway from the kitchen was a welcomed sight, but she was still exhausted.

Beatrice purred past her on the way to her breakfast, tail flicking back and forth.

The rattle of glass jars emanating from the large pantry off the hallway was a good indicator that Aimee was collecting more items for her spells. Dr. Summerfield, Jeff’s deceased father and mentor, had collected a massive collection of magical ingredients. Samantha couldn’t step into the pantry without feeling a bit giddy. Aimee explained it was normal reaction for a magus until they learned to properly block out energies. Samantha was getting better, but she still felt like she was struggling to get a solid grip on her powers.

Taking a few more steps toward the kitchen, the words being spoken became more distinct.

“Nothing is going right,” Benchley’s voice complained.

“We’re still alive,” Jeff answered.

“Amaliya is still struggling with her powers and Samantha isn’t doing much better.”

Samantha frowned at this truthful assessment.

Aimee emerged from the pantry with her arms full of jars and a few cotton bags dangling over one arm. Her bronze hair and multi-colored, earth-toned maxi-dress rippled around her like silk in a breeze. Samantha liked Aimee, but the ethereal quality of the witch intimidated her. The witch cast a sweet smile over her shoulder at Samantha, then disappeared into the kitchen.

At last Samantha’s growling stomach compelled her into action. Following in the witch’s sweet-smelling wake (must be the herbs), Samantha entered the brightly lit kitchen.

A cauldron sat on the massive cast iron stove with steam and bits of sparkly magic floating above it. Next to it was a much more modern one where another pot was filled with something that smelled spicy and delicious. The kitchen was long and narrow with very high pressed-tin ceilings and big windows that opened to the side yard. It didn’t resemble the concept of a modern kitchen at all. There wasn’t one bit of stainless steel, granite, or modern cabinets anywhere. There was just one counter with a deep sink, and the rest of the surface space came from tables and china cabinets set along the walls. A huge refrigerator was shoved into an alcove and covered in what Samantha considered the ultimate nerd clippings which included superhero pictures, cartoons, and bumper stickers. It looked like multiple eras of the house collided in the kitchen making it a bit funky, yet inviting. The oddest part of the decor was the huge whiteboard fixed to one wall filled with information in various colors of markers.

“How many does he have now?” Benchley asked. He was seated at the kitchen table, arms folded on the table, and looking very grumpy. Sadly, grumpy seemed to be his default emotion of late.

“Eight,” Jeff answered in a grim voice from where he leaned against the wall near doorway into the family room.

“He has eight rings?” Samantha gasped.

“That’s our estimate.” Jeff leaned over to pet Beatrice as she made her way to her food bowl.

Surprisingly, the cat allowed it.

Samantha yanked open the refrigerator and pulled out the jug of sweet tea with lemon slices swimming at the top of it. She needed caffeine and sugar. “How do we know he got more rings?”

“The Swedes reported a break in at the palace. Apparently, the royal family had one of the rings.” Jeff opened one of the china cabinets and pulled out three glasses. After setting them on the kitchen island that was actually an antique table, he rubbed his bottom lip nervously.

“And?” Samantha prompted while pouring the tea.

“Part of The Assembly in Sweden is actually palace guards. The tried to stop The Summoner’s people, but failed. The rest of the group is still in hiding.” Jeff claimed the glass with Superman on it and handed the one with Batman to Benchley.

“The Assembly is falling apart.” Benchley stared into his tea, then poked the ice with one finger. “It’s all going to hell.”

Returning the jug of tea to the fridge, Samantha sighed. Austin felt like an enclave surrounded by chaos. They weren’t foolish enough to believe The Summoner would not come for them. He was taking his time for his own nefarious reasons. That truth made Samantha very scared.